Excuse me, Have You Seen My Cartwheel?

AAAAAAARGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

3 weeks from tomorrow I will be 48.


48.

2 years from 50.

Enough Said.
I am going shopping.
Now.
Retail Therapy.

I need some Moisturizer. Ya know that anti aging, wrinkle corrector, line filler, tightening, erases all those sun years magic potion.
Where's Merlin when you need him.

There was a time that I would have gone shopping for a new Thong or a mini skirt.

I am thinking New support Bra and alcohol.

The Olympics

I just want to make a few observations.
I have always loved the Summer Olympics.
I remember the games of Olga Korbit and Nadia and Mary Lou.
I remember the games of Bruce Jenner and Mark Spitz.

This is the first Olympics that my children have been old enough to be interested in the games, to watch and to ask questions.
It has opened up a whole new world to them.

First, we have watched all the programming extras about China, the country, it's history and its people.
We have seen some pretty interesting, OK GROSS, things they eat. It has made vegetables on her plate look pretty good now to my daughter.

She was also amazed that the athletes in China leave their parents at age 3 to begin training. It seem to bother her, she just cannot figure what Mom would let their daughter's that young leave home. We barely let her spend one night away from home and she is 7.

She has also been intrigued by all the sports that she has never even dreamed of.
Like synchronized diving.
All the cool gymnastics apparatus.
And all the different types of swimming events.
She also asked me why the boys swim suits were so small.

My son has also been captivated by the swimming and diving.
He also cheers loudly for Michael Phelps.
In every race.
Whether Phelps is swimming in the event or not.

This has opened up other conversations in our house about past Olympians.
My daughter has been reciting the facts about Wilma Rudolph. She is very impressed that as a little girl she wore a brace on her leg and went on to win Gold, Silver and Bronze medals in the Olympic Games.

I hope that she has learned that nothing in life is out of reach if you work hard.
We love watching the bios they give on the individual athletes. It seems that most all of them have had a hardship or difficulties to overcome in their lives.
We talk about how being in the Olympics is not just about winning the 3 medals.
But how important it is to just make the team and represent your country.
She asked me if she was for Russia or the USA.
I told her she could be for both.
I told her she can cheer for all the athletes.
I hope she is learning that you don't always have to choose a side, that you can be for everyone that showed up, that put it on the line, that gave it their best try.
That last place can just mean last in that event, but not last in anything else.
That the last place deserves a high five too.
I hope both of them know that in everything they do, we are cheering them on, even if they never are medal winners in the big world.
They've got the Gold in our house.

STOP,Whatever you are doing right now, STOP!

Right now , take a deep breath, exhaling slowly and feel the wonderful and blessed life you are living.
Give your kids an extra kiss and your husband an extra squeeze.
Tell yourself 10 things you are grateful for today.

Life can change on a dime.
Even faster.

Last week I had a huge wake up call to the life and blessing I take for granted.
In our hectic days of following schedules and kids and laundry, I tend to forget how lucky I am each day that these are the most pressing things on my mind.

My next door neighbors are a great family. They are so very much like us and we have Thanked God many times over to be so lucky to have them next door. They moved in shortly after we did, about 10 years ago.
They had a small son and in these years, they have added a daughter and we have added a son and a daughter.
Our daughters are close in age and best friends.
We watch each other's kids, watch each other's houses when one is gone, feed each other's dogs and water each other's plants.
I am 47, she is 36.
We both have great husbands, happy marriages and great kids.

Last week she found out she has breast cancer.
Then she found out it was in the other breast.
Then she found out, despite regular check ups, being healthy, no family history, that it had been there for a while.
Then she found out it is the type that will be harder to treat.

No words can describe the shock in her family or in her circle of Friends.
This week she is having a double mastectomy and then hoping to get into an experimental chemo program in our city.
Her daughter(8) is most upset that Mom will lose her hair, not really understanding all the implications of the disease.
Mom is optimistic and fighter. As she said, what else can ya be?
Dear Husband is still in shock, not really knowing how everything got turned so upside down in his life so suddenly.
But he is a great husband and father and he will righten their world soon.
But BAM!
This does just knock the wind out of you, doesn't it.
It makes all those little daily annoyances seem pretty silly and petty.
It has made me utter not "Why Her" but "Why Not Me?", which is really the lesson.
It could be me or you or my child or anyone.
At any time or any day and without any warning?
So while I cheer her on and help her as she would help me,
I will be taking the time to really be grateful and thankful and feel blessed for each day in my life that I am not dealing with those big things.
Those real life altering and life changing moments.
Just savoring the plain and the ordinary and the common days we have.
Those are the roses I will be stopping to smell.
The small things I won't Sweat anymore.
And many of those things I thought were Big, just got demoted to small.
You should do the this too.

IS it Hot in here??????

Our house has great central air conditioning.
We also have a ceiling fan in...well every room of our house, including the bathroom.
We also have several box fans,stand fan and countertop fans.
Yet, still I sweat.

I pondered out loud if I was having hot flashes. To which my husband replied
"Kim, it's August in the south. It's 101 degrees outside with 90% humidity. Everyone's having hot Flashes"

Still I wondered.
I will be 48 on my birthday in September.
This is not a subject I can broach with the Mom's of my kids school friends.
My kiddos are 7 and 9.
The other Moms are not 48 and if they skip a period it would be for a far different reason.
I look forward to that part actually, and yes my "friend" still visits on a regular basis.
I know, I know. Too much information.

Yet still I sweat. Maybe I have become obsessed with this. Maybe my preoccupation with checking my external thermometer has caused me to have heated delusions.

So I bought "The Everything Menopause Book". On the cover it promises to give reassuring advice and the lastest information to keep you healthy and sane. Great!
In the introduction it tells the reader(me) that I haven't had time to learn about menopause because I am busy and healthy and young- If I were young .I would not be reading this. Or maybe to them, young is a relative term.
Because in the very next sentence it tells me that menopause is not a condition for the retired, sick, old and unfit.
I guess if you were really all of those dire things, you wouldn't really notice menopause.
I am going to have to ponder these words and exactly what wisdom they are supposed to impart.
So I skip over to the chapter on Hot Flashes.
I am surprised to see it is not one of the first chapters. In fact, it is Chapter 16 all the way back on page 247.

So here is what I learn.
Hot flashes are severe vasomotor symptoms.
They will disrupt your waking and sleeping life.
They will last several years.
I am not sure I want to read on.

But I do.
I read about the severity, the after effects and the various treatments.
Does it sound like mine? It could go either way.
Upon reading further, I decide. Yeah, maybe it is just August in the south.
I just have too much on my plate right now for it to be the big M!

Here are the chapters.
Perimenopause.
The Stages of Menopause.
Menopausal Attitude
Health Risks of the Over 40
Menopause and Heart Disease
Menopause and Sexuality
Your Mood and your Mind
Hormones
Eating and Menopause
Exercise and Menopause
Your New Sexuality
Anxiety and Depressi0n
Keep your Menopausal Mind Sharp
Keep a Menopause Journal

Frankly Menopause looks like too much Work. I just do not have the time for it right now. Maybe I will pencil it in my schedule in a few years, say when my kids are in Jr. High or maybe even High School. I should have more time for it then.



So I saunter off, taking my over the counter Estroven with Energy and turn my thermostat down to 65.

Menopause will have to wait until I cool off and I am in the mood for it.
Maybe in December 2015.

Back in the Saddle Again

Well, the summer has flown by.
Ok, I know this is just the beginning of August.
But today was the first day of school.
So for Mom's, this day means the end of summer vacation.

It is crazy though, to be starting school in the midst of the hottest part of the year.

Yeah, Back in my day you started school after Labor Day.

The Good Ole Days.

Last week I was so not ready for school to start. Translation: I wasn't ready to have to get up at 6:30 each morning. My kids are great sleepers and it would not be unusual to find us all 3 still asleep at 9am during the summer.

This week, with it just too hot to be outside, they were bouncing off the walls.

I then was so ready for school to start.

This morning my daughter bounded out of bed and into her new school clothes in a flash.

Her fingernails polished pale green to match her outfit.

She was eager to show off her new short hairdo to her friends.

She rushed and hurried Dad so they could be at school as soon as the doors opened at 7:30.

My son.........................OHHHHHHHHHH my son.

He woke up fine and watched cartoons and ate breakfast.

He picked out his clothes and opted for his old tennis shoes instead of his new cool Sperry's.

But when he realized that all this primping and prepping meant school.

Katie-Bar the Door!

It is suffice to say he was just not into it.

He cried and stomped around and looked for things to throw outside for 30 minutes.

I tried to redirect by mentioning our upcoming trip to Disney. NOT INTERESTED!

I tried the upcoming hometown festival this weekend with bands and firworks. NOT INTERESTED!

So I turned a deaf NOT INTERESTED ear and read the paper while sitting outside waiting on the bus.

He stomped up the driveway and got on the bus. I am just glad I could not read his mind.

I returned inside sweaty and stressed and feeling successful and crappy at the same time.

It may be hot flashes and premenopausal hormones.

Or just typical first day of school stuff.

Especially when you have a special child who would just as soon never see the inside of a school again and be very happy and occasionally I agree with him.

And then, as I sat on bed and watched Matt Lauer reporting from China about the upcoming Olympics,

it hit me.

It was quiet, peaceful.

TOO QUIET and too peaceful.

Maybe I wasn't so ready after all.

Then my Mom and Dad called up and offered to take me to lunch.

A lunch that did not involve ketchup or play areas or a drive thru window.

I am not ashamed that perked me up. And picked me up too.

It reminded me of my blessings.

The blessing that I get to be at home everyday with my two.

My blessing in my great husband who thinks I do the hardest job in the world by being at home.

That in the summer we are together literally 24/7.

And that with a clear conscious I can enjoy those 7 hours they are at school.

And that I can also count the minutes until I can go sit in the car line .

And I can freely admit I cannot wait to hear about their day and

let them know that I missed them.

One day down.

179 to Go.

Many Mothers

So, this past Sunday was Mother's Day.

But it is really more complicated then that isn't it.

My first obligation is to my own Mother.

Luckily on Saturday evening we throwing a 70th birthday party for my Step father, so I got to spend the time with Mom. They are also moving into a new house near us and this made shopping for her easy for a change. My sis and brother and I went in together and bought them new patio furniture for the new house for Birthday/Mother's Day.

So that was one marked off the list.

Now I am also a Daughter-In-Law and my Mother in Law's birthday is also the same week.

We went on Friday night to honor her for these two occasions.

Number two off the list.

So for the first time in my 9 years of being a Mom,

Mother's Day was actually about me.

I did not have to go anywhere at all.

I was treated as the Queen I am (OK aspire to be)

and my Royal subjects fetched and feted me.

Sorta.

I had given my daughter the requested want list.

I had bought steaks, wine etc. for my Mother's Day meal.

But my dear Hubby did do the shopping from my want list.

And he did do all the cooking and cleaning up after for our lunch.

But the most amazing thing occurred after all of this.

My husband and my kids allowed me to go lay in my hammock, under my favorite tree for

2 HOURS

YES

2 UNINTERRUPTED HOURS

to read and nap!

That was the best gift ever and

it drove my kids crazy!

Then I decided that I wanted to veg out on the couch and watch a movie.

This is another rare thing during the daylight hours.

And they let me.

I casually mentioned to my 7 year old as she was passing through

that a movie is just not complete without some popcorn and a Coke.

She fervently went to the kitchen and a few minutes later she ever so proudly delivered

My popcorn, buttered and salted as I like in my favorite bowl and a nice icy glass of the Real Thing.

She did every step by herself.

Her face and smile was bursting with pride that she could do this for me.

I learned a big Mothering lesson in an instant.

We all know that part of the definition of being a Mother is loving and looking after our children.

Pretty much waiting on them hand and food and providing all the comforts they may need.

And I take much pride and pleasure out of doing this.

Most of the time

I now see that my kids need and crave that same pride and pleasure in taking care of me too.

Not just cleaning up their rooms or putting their clothes in the laundry.

Not just taking their plates to the sink or putting their bikes in the garage.

But actually doing something

FOR ME

For me PERSONALLY

I could tell in the way she soaked up my Thanks for what she did

I could tell in the way she asked me later if she did a good job

I could tell by the way she was proud to have done a task that I would usually have done

Now I know that there will be two ways I will teach my daughter how to be a good Mom.

First, by being the best Mom to her I can be.

and I believe just as importantly

Letting her mother me on occasion.

Happy Mother's Day to all the Mothers

and future mothers we are raising.

Better late than Never

Ok, So I've missed a few months(4 to be exact) since my last post. Sorry and I am back.

So let's see what you've missed-

DECEMBER-

Great Christmas-we did really well in bringing down the Santa Booty a notch and bringing up the quota of fun and making traditions.
But Santa ( i gnoring Mrs. Claus' veto) brought the kiddos a new puppy.
He was a 3 month old Bichon Frise and I can admit the look on their faces were worth the over ride of my better senses.
I keep telling myself that every time he chews my shoes, sleeps on top of the dining room table, eats the cat food and is generally a white fluffy nuisance.
We named him Nick after
St. Nike -obvious
Nike Saban-obvious to anyone in the state of Alabama
St. Nikolaus-The patron saint of Russia-understood by those that know us.
Our 13 year old poodle is trying to stay dignified in the way he is handling this loud, wild child that we have brought in to ruin his retirement years.

JANUARY

- Husband turned 52 and daughter turned 7.
Completed the addition of two rooms upstairs in what was formerly the attic/storage space.
We put a den and a playroom up there and I reclaimed the sunroom as my scrapbooking/Mom space.
Note to self-If you build a house, do this from the beginning.
My Step dad retired and they made plans to move from North Alabama to here in Springville.
YEAH!

FEBRUARY

- Son turned 9 and he is getting close to being as tall as me. OK that isn't really that tall for a grown women but for a 9 year old its impressive.
Parents found a house that was about half completed, loved it and bought it.
I am so excited about them being close by. 6 minutes exactly.

MARCH

My bestest friends from New Jersey came down for spring break. We met them while in Russia in 1999 and immediately connected. We manage to see each other about every year.
They have 2 sons adopted from Russia and a daughter from China. We had a great week with the 4 adults and 5 kids. Took them on a road trip to Chattanooga. We had not taken our kids there so it was new to everyone. My hubby and I remember going as kids, which I think is mandatory for every kid growing up in Alabama.
We did the cave at Ruby Falls-loved it.
We walked the paths at Rock City-loved it.
Spent the night at the Chattanooga Choo Choo Hotel- DO it once
Went to the Tennessee Aquarium-This was fantastic and everyone needs to go there. I am sure we will go back.
The most fun was the road trip in the 12 passenger van we rented to drive that week. We felt like the Partridge family. In am always so sad when they leave and she and I are always conspiring for them to move closer. The newest possibility is Abilene Texas. OK its only 2 hours closer but I think a lower cost of living and more open space for them.
Having her live so far away is one of those little jokes God plays on us every now and then.
Thank goodness for snail mail, email and free long distance calling.
APRIL-

Well my parents closed on their house and we are now traveling up there and helping them back.
OH MY GOODNESS- My step dad saves everything. Now you may think you can relate, but I mean everything. I found his wisdom teeth that were pulled when he was 15 (He is now 70)
Every box, tin or container anything ever arrived, shipped or was given to him holding an object. I kid you not.
Medicine that was 14 years out of date.
Canned veggies 10 years out of date.
More coffee mugs than a waffle house could hold
Every rubber band, paper clip, pen, pencil and unidentified object that every passed his threshold.
7 pairs of Golf shoes.........
8 sets of dishes and crystal stemware and silver service that could host a reception for the Queen
More books on every imaginable subject from Civil War History-Southern Etiquette-Murders of the Century-OJ Simpson-Troy Simms Pecan cookbook-Medical Self help and on and on and on

And to think I never even made it to any closets. And their house is always neat as a pin and spacious. Who all this lingered just out of sight.
I told him that Dr. Phil had an episode about people like him.I don't think he got the joke.


So as May approaches and only 16 days of school left , I am contemplating this past year. Like many Moms, I consider a year from Aug. ,when school starts to May when it ends. The summer months are a nice hiatus from it all.
My daughter has grown so much, lost her top front teeth and has asked when can she buy a bra.
My son has made great improvements in speech and really in all areas. And grown from a size 7 jean to a 10S.

Well, I hope this gets me back in the swing, if there are any readers left out there.
I have much to rant and rave and wax poetic about. And don't get me started on politics.
Well, at least not until my next post.
To myself-Welcome Back
I missed Me

Survivor-Episode 1

I have just survived my first spend the night party.

Not mine exactly, but my daughter's.

Not really her first one, but the first one that she wasn't with her cousins or the next door neighbor or Grandma's.

The first one that she spent with a friend from class.

The first one with a family and a house that I was not too familiar with. Ok, barely familiar with.

I know that it is too much to expect that I can be up close and personal with the children and parents that she will befriend. Right????????????

It's just up until last night, I was. Her social circle was mostly cousins, families we have known for years and neighbors. While she has made many friends at school and attended her fair share of their birthday parties, it was all under my watchful eye or the eyes of my friends and family.

Until last night.

It finally happened. She was invited to a spend the night party that I could not find a reason or excuse to say No.

This was a girl in her class that I she has been good friends with and I knew her Mom was active at the school like me. Her Mom called me and was very nice, had a great number of planned activities for the girls, asked about allergies.............all the appropriate questions.

So I gave my consent, which Dad was none too happy, yet knew it was inevitable.

I confess I drove by their house to check it out a few days before hand. It was very nice, looked much like my own house.

So off she went, so excited she seemed to be walking on air. Not in the least bit concerned about being away from home all night.

My house was too quiet. I could not go to sleep.

Finally around 2am I nodded off. Did I mention I was sleeping in her bed.

How sad is that??????

My phone rings at 3:11am. In the span of those two rings I thought, yippee, she misses me and can't sleep and wants me to come get her. This made me oddly Happy.

Me: Hello

Her:Hi Mommy

Me: Hey Macy, what are you doing?

Her: What are you doing?

Me: We are sleeping , its the middle of the night.What are you doing still awake?

Her: I just wanted to tell you that I am going to stay for a few more hours.

Me: Macy, you need to go to sleep.

Her: Ok, Bye.

She hangs up.

Now I am wide awake. What are 3 first graders doing up and calling me on a cell phone at 3am?

What else are they doing? Does the Mom know they are awake?

What if they......or.........or.....................maybe.................would they...........could they..........?????

You can imagine all the places my mind went for the next 30 minutes.

Then I fell back asleep and had a lovely dream that involved Matthew McConaughy (I had been watching the Wedding Planner earlier in the evening).

I woke up at 9am.

Held off calling to check on her until 10:30 when I was told I didn't need to come get her until 4pm. WHATTTTTTTTTT, I said I would be there around 2.

We run some errands, the 3 of us. Me, Dad and my son. I realize that I would not have felt complete without her, I feel incomplete all day. We were meant to be a family of four.

She calls at 1:30, PLEASEEE don't come get me yet. I am starting to get a little complex here, she doesn't miss me at all.

Is this normal, does she even like me, am I no fun??????????

So we go by the grocery store and pick her up at 3:30. She had been gone for 24 hours and she STILL WAS NOT READY TO LEAVE.

But she does, she is a little crabby and falls to sleep at 7 for the night.

I survived. A little sadder that she has reached another childhood milestone.

I know I should be thankful that she is confident and independent and social. That is our goal in raising our daughters(and sons) isn't it. I should be happy that I did not have to make that midnight trek to retrieve a homesick child that so many parents make.

That I wanted her to call me in the middle of the night told me something about myself.

I am not quite ready or as prepared as I thought to loosen those apron strings.

Talking about it is one thing, but doing it quite another.

Were 6 year olds always so grown up and so sure of themselves?

Did I teach and encourage this in her or is it her inborn nature to be so eager to step out into the world and out from under me?

Is it something about the world these days that brings this on?

I want to stop the clock.

OK- I want to turn it back.

I want that 2 year old that clung to me like a vine for about 4 months to the extent that I referred to her as my barnacle and not always in a good way.

And the not so flattering way I commented that she had become my hood ornament.

I want that Back. I do. I want to control her world, her friends, her everything.

OK, I even scared myself there. I don't really want all that back. And I am so proud of this child with such high self esteem, fearless nature and conquer the world attitude.

This child that talks nonstop, is fiercely competitive and drives me too distraction is the light of my life ( as is her brother) and all of this will serve her well as she grows up and eventually leaves my nest for good. I know this in my mind and in my heart, but my soul still needs her close by, needs to tuck her in at night and needs to be needed.

Just as she needs to build life long friendships and just learns to be.

I just pray to God that I can survive all this growing up.

The" HONOR" able Riley Freeman

As the mother of a special needs son, our bragging rights often take a different form and a different timetable than other parents are prone too.

When he finally started walking at 18 months, I kept it pretty close to the cuff and pretending he had been walking for as long as other toddlers his age.

When he finally attempted to write his name when he was 5, again this was a milestone quietly Hoorayed at home.

We are as equally proud of his accomplishments as other parents and have never felt short changed in that area ever in his life.

In fact, I think a blessing in my life that comes with parenting an exceptional child is that I really stop and savor all of those moments and never take anything for granted.

So, this past Thursday was one of those days. It was also one of those rare times that a moment like that shared with others who mean so much to my son and to me and they also understood the celebration of that moment.

My son, for the first time made the A/B Honor Roll. So what if it is an adapted curriculum, to him it is just as challenging as everyone else's and just as rewarding to succeed in it. Our school does a really great awards ceremony each 9 weeks for the Honor Roll students. Each grade gathers in the auditorium and they call each student by name one by one, announce their accomplishment and present them with a certificate, a gold ribbon and ticket for a free meal at Chic-Fil-et.

There was no prouder child in that auditorium than my son.

There was no prouder parent than I watching.

There were also many proud teachers cheering him on.

And I can venture to say, several teary eyes.

How much of this does my son really understand I do not know. I do know that he was very proud of himself and so were his classmates. I also know that it was boost to his pride and self esteem.

It was also important in our family in another way too.

My daughter,who is a very bright and aware 6 year old, has begun asking a question here and there about her brother, what is autism and why he behaves in some ways like he does. Some of her classmates have asked her these questions,which is quite natural. I am always diligent in making sure she knows that her brother is smart and able he just sees the world, hears the world and communicates with the world in his own way. Different is OK. That he learns at his own pace and this is just fine. It was really good for her to see him make the Honor Roll and get this award. She was a little jealous because they do not start this until 2nd grade. She sees him in just a little different light now. He has set a standard for her to live up to at school for the first time.

And I have overheard her tell a few people quite proudly that her brother made the Honor Roll.

It is so important for kids with special needs to be honored and singled out for accomplishments in front of their peers at school. Maybe more important than the regular kids. Even if you have to make something up, Give them an award for something at least once during the year. You cannot imagine what it does for that child, for his parents and for his world.

I hope that no parent takes any honor their child earns for granted. I noticed there were many more kids getting honored than parents there watching. I know because of the single parents and two working parents that it is hard to make every program during the day.But I hope that their child knows that it is no small feat to make the honor roll. That their parents are as pround and offer up as many kudos as we did.So many kids go through school and never get singled out for anything good. So many never have a proud moment in front of their normal peers.

We cheer our son on daily in our home.

......Our daughter too.

It was priceless to hear him cheered on in front of his schoolmates and teachers.

A more genuine grin full of pride has never been seen before.

So Thank you to my son and Thank You to all of his teachers.

Thank You for a really giving me a really Great Proud Mom moment that will go down in our family history books.

Look Out Pumpkins, Here we COME!

Since my son was a year old, every Halloween season we venture about an hour north and visit the Pumpkin Patch. A necessary ritual for my scrapbook and a nice day in great fall weather. The day usually involves-

1) My having to pick out symbiotic clothing for all of us to wear

2) The uncountable times my daughter will ask, When will we be there?

3) Riding the hay wagon being pulled by the exhaust spewing tractor out to the pumpkin field

4) The staging of my "spontaneous" pics of my kiddos looking for and find the perfect future Jack-O-Lantern

5) Us waiting for dear old Dad to carry our prizes to the car

6) Eating some good old Beans, Greens and Cornbread while the kids chow on that ever elusive

Chicken fingers and Fries

7) 30 minutes playing in the Inflatable Playground, the Petting Zoo and the Horse Ride

8) The ride back home with again the question "When will we be home?" reverberating in the air.

This year we had the added excitement of

9) Stopping for cokes on the way home and realizing my daughter was missing a shoe.

You ask, how does one lose a shoe between getting in a car and closing the door and driving off?We have yet to figure that out.

But, since it was her nice and not cheap Gold Mary Jane Croc with the personally meaningful collection of Jibbitz, we returned to the Pumpkin Patch to find it.

10) Looking under parked cars for the missing shoe was fun. (I found It)

11) The now quite drive home with daughter sniffling and Dad fuming and Mom sighing.

Which now has lead to the asking of our daughter each time we get in the car-

DO YOU HAVE BOTH SHOES????????????????????

Late September Road Trip

Ok I have been a little lax lately and have been properly reprimanded by a few loyal readers. So I am going to catch up on the last few weeks in our lives,exciting as that may be.



We ( us and extended family) took a long weekend trip to Jacksonville Florida to the FSU/AL football game. Since my family is equally fans of both teams it was a win/win game for us.

And a WIN WIN for FSU.

This was also a nostalgic trip for me in other ways.

We spent a day exploring St. Augustine. This is where my parents went on their honeymoon.

This is also a place where my parents took us several times when we were children. I so love taking my kids to places that I remember going as a child. We had a a great time exploring the old fort(is it smaller than I remembered), learning how to shoot a cannon and eating some great Spanish/Cuban food. And yes I did have 2 1/2 Mojitos-so yummy. They came with peeled sugar cane in them and I was able to introduce another treat from my childhood to my children.

I spent several years of my younger days in Miami and our neighbors were from Cuba. I remember them peeling sugar cane sticks for us and we would chew them into a mangled mess.

I really have learned how to sit back and savor every moment with my kids and with my Mom and this trip was one that was a real family outing. My Mom and step Dad rode down with us, so 20 hours in a car with them was actually very nice and the kids and I loved hanging out at the pool and swimming,while the others went to the game.

All in all - time well spent.

Rejuvenate and Regenerate

Is it just me or do most women over 35 snap to attention at the mere mention of these words.

When did so many of the products in my bathroom start including these words?

OK, All the products in my bathroom have a reference to turning back the clock or an age demographic of some sort.

It began as a slow invasion of 1 or 2 products and then another and then another.The ones that just smelled good or felt good just faded away.

For me it did not start when I was 30 or 35, it started at about age 13. The age when I officially became a women. I blame it not on my entrance into the world of female maintainance but rather my grandfather.

As far as my memory goes back, I remember my grandfather slathering Pond's Cold cream on his face morning and night. He wasn't using it to clean his face, he was using it as a moisturizer. He always smelled of Ponds and Listerine. I think he was one of the world's first Metrosexual's.

He was a pastor and Evangelist and his appearance was very important to him. His calling and life's work took place in front of an audience mostly.After one trip to Jerusalem, he took to wearing a big silver cross in an ancient form on a long black leather strap. He also took to wearing a white mock turtle neck under a black polo shirt and coupled with that cross, many mistook him for a Catholic Priest. He was a bit of a prankster and loved to introduce his grandchildren to these people and see the look of confusion on their faces, a priest with grandchildren. Of course this was about 35-40 years ago when priests and hanky panky wasn't as common as it is today.

But I think his dedication to the daily application of the Pond's really sunk into my psyche. Around age 13, I began slathering creams, lotions and potions on my own face and neck. Not only was I crazy about Grandpa, but the proof of his wisdom was in his face. He always had the softest and unwrinkled skin. And until the day he died as a very old man, he still had the softest wrinkle free skin I have ever seen on a man, or women of that age either.

For the first 25 years my criteria for buying these things was 1)how it smelled and 2) how it smelled and 3) how the package looked.Maybe a little of how it felt.

I noticed the other day that I buy nothing now because of the way it smells, unless its only purpose is to smell nice. In my shower I have Skin Re hydration Shower Gel, Sugar scrub to slough off the dead skin on my body and Apricot Scrub for my face. I would venture that an aging or dead cell has about a 24hour lifespan on my being.

It's out with the Dead and in with the New!

Once out of the shower then its on to Detoxifying with Vitamin B, Green Tea and Vitamin E.

Followed by antioxidants and anti free radicals and collegen boosters.

I will attempt to restore my face to the vital and luminous skin of my youth.T

he Anti Fatigue Eye cream, followed by the Daily Regenerating Serum and then a final layer of Anti Wrinkle Firming Moisture Lotion.

Special attention is given to the neck, that measuring stick of age on women.

And since I gag at the mere thought of a turtleneck or scarf, they both make me feel like I am strangling, my neck will always be out there for the world to see.

Now the territory below the collarbone is slathered and sheathed in Pro Age Cream oil at night and Pro Age Body lotion during the day. The feet get sanded down and anointed with Burt's Bee's Coconut Foot Cream. The one thing that I use that does smell good. Sadly, its on my feet.

Even my eyes have had their own youthful recharge. After two years of needing both my contacts and reading glasses and being too chicken for LASIX, technology has finally given me a non surgical helping hand. One eye has a multi focal lens and the other a torque lens and TA DA! I have the vision of my youth sans glasses.Because no matter how wrinkle free and rejuvenated you look, whipping out those little specs to read the menu is a dead on age beacon.

But you know I have never been one who was bothered at all about whatever number my age was currently on.

Never lied about it.

Never wanted to go back to being 20 or 30 or even 40.

I love being 47.

I love everyday that has gotten me here. I love being probably the oldest Mom of a 1st grader at our school.

It makes me feel younger to have young kiddos. It forces me to be younger and it gives me the excuse to act younger also.

So I guess I buy these products and engage in my daily ritual, not to look younger but just not to look any older. At least for a while anyway.

I guess they must be working.

I've never been mistaken for my son or daughter's grandmother.

Not yet anyway.

But just to be on the safe side, I think a shopping expedition for something that just smells good and does nothing else is in order.

Mom-Not Otherwise Specified

I haven't written for awhile about my son and autism, Mainly, well everything is going great and I am just living the same life that most SAHM's of two elementary kids live.

Homework, school pictures, packing lunches and snacks, reading at night, trying not to develop a rash when you hear Hannah Montana or Drake and Josh or Oswald ot the Upside Down Show for the *#!! , OH whose counting, time, sending money for this and that, catching the bus.Not being too worried when you let bed time slide an hour or so back on the weekends and let them have a Diet Caffiene Free soda twice in one day. Ya know, normal Mom stuff.

My son is doing great, yes he is still a child with autism ,but he is doing great. He talks so much and saying so many new things that I am considering asking his speech teacher, Miss Bicky, to try and tone it down a little if she can. In fact, I am hoping she give me a two for one deal with decreasing the verbal accuity and volume that my two lovely children generate. She keeps telling me she doesn't work in that direction. I tell her she needs to branch out.

He LOVES his teacher this year and LOVES his classmates and other than those two times at the beginning of the year, he has happily pranced onto the bus each morning. Trust me, any day I don't have to pry his teeth off my arm, his fist out of my hair and peel his 60+ lb. body off of me and into that bus is a banner day. But to see him skip happily into the Cheese Wagon each morning is not something I will ever take for granted.

It seems each day gets a little better for him and a little easier for me.

I may be misguided and many parents of children with autism may disagree but I think that I have reached an AHA! moment where I am not on a quest to cure my son's autism .I am just trying each day to help him reach his fullest potential and to find ways for him to learn to live with this very peculiar set of issues and , most importantly, to live happily and fully.

I recently read some really good advice in a book by Jonathan Levy " What You Can Do Right Now to Help Your Child with Autism".

Some of the most common sense I have ever read or most usable tips.

1) Don’t react

This is something that I already have mastered. Every utterance, every act, every behavior does not require a response and quite frankly , he usually isn't asking for help or a translation of his behavior or anything at all. He is happily involved with himself, Thank You very much. My husband has a much harder time tuning all of this out. Which is funny because he is very good at tuning me out sometimes.

2) Make eye contact a priority

Also something that we have always done and have created somewhat of a monster with because if my son wants my attention or he thinks he doesn't have my full attention, he has no hesitation in turning ,quite forcefully, my head toward him and saying "Eyes" to me. Which was the keyword we used in getting his attention. A little taste of my own medicine.

3) Join the stims

I have been know to flap my hands, join in "Tickle Bugs Faster Scared" which is a game of his own making or his own personally invented stim that translates into tickle me and then holler and try to scare him, which he thinks is uproariously funny for some reason. So that is now a Freeman Family Game. I can also jump around crazily and all sorts of other things I participate in doing in the privacy of my own home. OK ,occasionally out in public but unless it shows up in YouTube, I'll deny it.

4) Coping with crying

His or Mine? He doesn't really cry anymore than any other kid and I don't cry any more than any other mom so we break even on this one.He is a actually pretty laid back and it a happy mood most all of the time.

5) Give the child as much control as possible

I think that this is good advice for any child. Say No as little as possible, give them as many choices as you can and choose your battles wisely. I use this the same with my neurotypical daughter as I do with my son. For what it's worth, good advice to use in regard to your husband also. I don't try to make my son "act" normal, for the most part he acts as normal as any other child under the age of 10, if there is such as thing as normal in regard to kids.

6) Focus on attitude

Mine, his and the world's. I find all three usually follow my lead or mirror my own attitude. If he gets upset, I keep a calm, cool, happy and non stressed exterior. If I show how happy, proud and non plussed I am about my son's autism,then it seems that others catch on and act the same.I don't care if he can write words but not sentences, as long as he is happy and proud when he writes a word both he and I can read. I want him to be proud when he accomplishes something, no matter what that something is. And when he struggles or can't quite get it, I want myself and him to be positive about the effort if not the outcome. This is whether he is reading, letting the dog in or out, bringing his dishes to the sink or saying Please and Thank You. And if he goes to school without letting me brush his hair, Big deal.

7) Work one-on-one in a non distracting environment

This is something that we have learned by trial and error. When is comes to homework. Off goes any and all TV's, radios, dishwasher and sister. She is banished from sight and usually me too. It seems that my son, who is such a Mommy's boy, thinks homework or school work is A man's work and Dad does a great job.

8) Be dynamic with the child

This goes back to attitude for me. My son thinks that he is the most fabulous, funny, smart, helpful, loved and adored kid that ever was. He thinks he is my favorite child. (Luckily my daughter thinks that she is the favorite).I hope if I give him nothing else in life, that he never for one second thinks or feels that I am tired, despondent, stressed,disappointed, frustrated or at the end of my rope with him.I hope at the end of my life his eulogy for me will be that I was the most fun, positive, energetic, non stressed, laid back, supportive,proud and loving mother that God could have given him

9) Go directly to language

It's funny if you have a child with no language issues, communication is not something you every really put much though or effort into. But have a child that is language challenged and your whole life suddenly becomes about that and just a small success in that area can mean huge things for your child. Just answering Yes or No , can change a life. Just expressing I want apple juice instead of orange, or a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich instead of chicken or that it's the seams in my socks that are making me freak out not my shoes or going to the store.And as speech improves, so does everything else. Get them talking, keep them talking and make that a priority. And talking can be verbal speech, or sign language or pointing to a picture. Communication is vital and should be numeral UNO on the to do list.

10) Make sure food isn’t part of the problem

This can be defined in different ways.

Some professionals, layman and parents believe that along with autism comes some food sensitivities or inability to process certain ingredients. Gluten, casein, dairy, additives and food coloring are among the most common or most popular.

These negative interactions can or may cause an increase or magnification of certain behaviors. I haven't seen any evidence that any of these cause autism or that the removal of them can "Cure"(sorry Jenny McCarthy) autism. But may be worth looking into for some. I don't think that any of them have any negative influence on my son.

But we have had other issues with food due to his Sensory Issues. He is fairly picky but really no more so than some kids I have met. He will on occasion surprise us and add something to his list of foods. And not because of any directed effort on our part, it has to be his own idea and initiative. So in this way we don't make food an issue.He likes what he likes and as long as he is healthy, getting a good balance ,then that is good enough. So he may never like ice cream and will only eat blue Popsicles or Red/White/Blue bomb pops, so what if he prefers crunchy foods, hates cold foods, not too keen on mushy and an orange or lemon is the only fresh fruit he will sorta eat and corn the only undisguised vegetable to pass his lips.

Since age 2 he has never had a sick child visit at the Doctor, never had an antibiotic and we can always find something to eat no matter what restaurant we are visiting, so all is good.

So I have pretty much given you a slice of our life and I am happy to see that at least one expert in the field agrees with our approach.

It ain't Rocket Science but in this house

I am a researcher and my son is my ongoing project.

A better use of my time I cannot imagine.

A Change is in the Air

Finally after a long hot, dry, hot, did I mention DRY summer, I feel like fall is finally arriving.

I am one of those people that prefer to live in shorts and flipflops and here in the South I get my wish about 7 or 8 month out of the year.But that doesn't mean that I am not ready for the change of seasons. Maybe because it means the start of the holiday season, which I love and most certainly not because of the inevitable: Do I still fit in my jeans from last winter mystery?

I always loved the fall and winter holidays. Even before children, I decorated our house for Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas to the hilt.But now that I am Mom, the excitement has multiplied by a thousand. Last week, upon the urging of my daughter, we got out the Halloween decorations............and the Thanksgiving. OK, so I keep them in the same box and since the color scheme is similar and my daughter insisted on it-Our ghosts and Jack-O-Lanterns are happily coexisting with our Pilgrims and Turkeys. And our Indians don't seem to be bothered by their close proximity to the lighted spiders.

This years Halloween theme is "Pirates" brought forth by

1) My daughter wore a very cute Pirate costume in her dance recital

2) thus saving me the expense and time consuming decision of a costume by same daughter

3) My son loves Pirates

4) We went on the Pirate Ship cruise while on vacation so it is still fresh in their minds.

5) I am sorta tired of all the Princess stuff.

6) I need some different Halloween pictures for my scrapbooking. After 3 years of Princess and Prince Charming, I have reached my scrapbook limits of a fresh way to present it. And when they are older I don't want to have to answer why I "Made" them wear the same costume for 3 years. They will of course forget that it was them who insisted upon the repetition.

We always go and trick or treat with their cousins and those cousins cousins, so we are a marauding pack of 9 costumed kids being herded around by 6 adults and 2 infants in strollers.

We are never home to give out treats, so the candy I do buy is strictly for our own consumption. I mean ,who can resist those big bags so cleverly containing a mix of all your favorites.

Halloween also involves two of my favorite rituals-Visiting the Pumpkin Patch and picking the favorite pumpkins(more Kodak scrapbook moments) and then deciding on the face of the pumpkin- carved by Pumpkinmaster-Daddy B Free.

Then the science project of seeing exactly how long the pumpkin can sit on the front porch, dutifully light each night before it collapses into itself in a rotting heap.

And still can I stop and enjoy Halloween , which is still 6 weeks away.

NO!

I am already scanning magazines and websites for the perfect Thanksgiving dishes.

And Yes, my Type A momness has already starting buying some Santa Booty and decided what the Big Red Guy will be dropping down the chimney.

A man's work ends with the sun. A mother's work is never done!!!!!!!!

Now excuse me while I start thinking about this year's Christmas Wrapping Paper Theme.

What???????????Doesn't everybody do this????????????

P.S.

The Squirrel is back.

Climbing the Mountain

First-

Today is the 6 year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.

It is also the 6 year anniversary of the day we received the call from Russia about our daughter.

It is a toss up which was more shocking or life changing.

Both events defining moments in our life.

As I watched the second plane implode into the building, my phone rang. It was our agency rep. calling to tell me to pack up we had a referral of an infant girl to go and meet. She was calling from New Jersey and had no idea what was transpiring just across the water from her office.

As the horror, fear and trepidation set in around us, we were preparing to do what so many thought unthinkable. Climb aboard a plane and fly across the ocean to a foreign country that had an uneasy past relationship with the United States. Many neighbors would not even venture across town to the mall much less excitedly and joyfully pack a suitcase for 17 hours of flying.

But I think our adoption travel coinciding with 9/11 was a gift.

It strengthened our decision to adopt a second time.

God knows we had plenty of reasons not to. We weren't that young, 41 and 46 when we adopted our daughter. Our son was not quite 3 and did have some issues in language and sensory and we were well aware of the extra time and attention he would need from us. We weren't wealthy by any means and paying for two adoptions within a two years span took lots of financial creativity.Not to mention I had quit my job to be home full time.

The attacks of 9 /11 could have been the final straw to us remaining a family of three.

The gift of 9/11 was that we finally understood why it was so right and needed for us to add a daughter to our family, to complete what we felt was our path and to fully feel that even though we had not even met our future daughter, we would already risk life and limb for her. That our love for her was stronger than our fear. That while in the future she would give us love and laughter and joy, the first thing she gave us was courage.

The terrorists took many things away from our country that day-lives, futures, security.

But they gave us back the renewed connections to our families, they put our priorities back in the right order and we learned to not take a second of our lives for granted.

Life lessons worth learning.

OK , on to more recent happenings.

Last Thursday I turned 47.

10+10+10+10+7

5+5+5+5+5+5+5+5+5+2

20+20+7

25+25-3

Anyway you slice it-creeping up on a half a century.

Ok I just scared myself with that one.

My bestest friend, Chris, sent me a Birthday card and reminded me I was almost over the hill.

WAIT A MINUTE!

How can I be almost over the hill,when I haven't even peaked yet- or

reached the figurative

Top of the Hill!!

I'm still climbing the mountain.

I am not winded or short on oxygen.

No leg cramps either.

I figure by 50 I will just be reaching the summit. Then I should have a good 10 or 15 years of enjoying the view from the top before I start back down at a leisurely pace.

I have never been one to lie or fudge or be evasive about my age.

I didn't want to stay 21 or 25 or 35.

The most monumental or milestone or life changing birthday I think I had was when I turned 16 and got my driver's license and the keys to my Orange and White Pinto with the Orange and Black checkered seats.

COOOOOOOOOL!-

Look it was 1976 OK.

30 was no biggie and even 40 hardly made me blink and even 45 went by with a whisper.

I have to admit that 47 left me somewhat melancholy or rather reflective.

I think I am now feel like a grown up. Most days.Well, is some areas.

I think the next year will witness some changes.

I'm not going to the require so much of myself when it comes to being the extended family negotiator, planner and compromiser.

I am not going to have expectations of others, only to be disappointed.

I am not going to Do unto others, I am going to wait until they Do unto me , then respond in kind or not so kind, what ever the case may be.

If I don't really want to go out of my way to do something , then I won't.

What I spend my time and energy and attention on I will for the intrinsic value and feeling it gives me and not for any altruistic reasons or feedback or return from anyone else.

I am going to put my husband, my kids and myself first all the time, I mean really first. And not worry about what others may say, think or feel about that.

I know on the surface all of this sounds really selfish or self centered and in some ways it is.

I think at 47 I have earned a little of that.

One of the most important things I have learned in my many years is that you have to think of yourself as a savings account. If you don't regularly deposit time and attention to yourself , then you have less of yourself to give to others.

You can't operate at a deficit and whatever you put into yourself only grows with interest that compounds daily.

Because there are a lot of people and events and emotions standing in line for a daily withdrawal.

I plan on having a lot more birthdays and I don't plan on spending them bankrupt.

Not in Body.

Not in Mind.

Not in Soul.

Not in Spirit.

Now excuse me while I go wash this dye out of my hair because

Not in Gray either.

Talk Soup

TALK

Give voice to , speak ,vocalize , utterances , proclaim , articulate, epiphany, enunciate, pronounce, emit, murmur, croon, parlance, oration, recitation ,say ,yell , address, lecture, harangue, sermon, tirade, salutatory, soliloquy, mouthpiece, gift of gab,state your position, on the tip of your tongue, from the lips...............................

My house is a daily smorgasbord of all of this.

We are not a silent, contemplative, keep it to yourself, silence is golden family.

I grew up in a house where my parents encouraged lively discussion and no topic or thought was off limits.

My husband came of age under similar tutelage.

Even though we have been together for 28 years, we have yet run out of things to discuss.

Road trips rarely lapse into silence

Years of Speech therapy have transformed my once silent son into a virtual motor mouth.

My daughter is the gold medal winner by far of the Talk Olympics around here.

We consider the desire, willingness and practice of communication and verbalization to be a virtue and coveted assets in our family.

Apparently the school doesn't quite share our enthusiasm for this.

My smart, precious , social and vocabulary gifted daughter is having a few talking issues at school.

Did you know that in First grade you get points deducted for saying Hi to a friend or answering a questions asked of you by a classmate?

Neither did I, but apparently the Golden Rule is now Silence and not Reading, Writing and Arithmetic.

Believe it or not, my former Elementary teachers mentioned on occasion in that tiny space allotted for comments on old school report cards that

"Kim is an excellent student, always gets her work done and a joy to teach, she just needs to talk a little less in class."

No points taken off, no conduct cards pulled. Lots of positive reinforcement of the good stuff with the negative coming by the way of a little footnote.

My parents chalked it up to my nature, my intelligence and good breeding. I cannot recall it every being an issue because that was what my parents encouraged us to do. We got points added at home for being outspoken, opinionated and verbal sharing.

Enter 2007, where 1st grade looks like 3rd grade used to.

Tow the line, walk the walk but don't talk the talk.

The problem is that these are still 6 years old.

I don't expect the quite ones that can go all day with out uttering a word to become class orators , nor can I expect the ones that have mastered the art of communication to easily become mute.

So I struggle daily on what approach to take with my daughter.

Oh, how she tries each day to stuff down her automatic responses of the verbal nature.

We practise ignoring classmates that want her attention and words.

We emphasize that behavior i.e. talking is as important as how great she reads or writes or does math.

But my heart aches when I see her leave each morning for school not as excited about what she will learn as she is anxious about whether she will earn that coveted "Green Smiley"Face for the day that means she kept her lips locked through out the day.

And this bothers me.
It bothers me a lot.
It bothers me to the point that I am now more focused on that

Damn green smiley

than what she learned that day. And I hate that.

We visited my parents this weekend. As per family tradition, my Mom and I never run out of things to talk about. Mind you, we talk everyday on the phone. Saturday night we stayed up until 3:30am talking. Eventually I brought my parental quandary about my daughter's talking at school.

My mother laughed.

I asked her what she did about my talking in school when I was young.

Nothing, she said.

Nothing, I repeated.

She said it was just my nature and if that was the worst I was doing at school then no biggie.

I was always ahead academically and they had encouraged and nurtured us to be very expressive children.

So they did nothing.

Now, they did teach us to be respectful, not to talk when others had the floor and that our teachers were in charge. They also taught us that we were responsible for our own actions and the consequences those said actions may incur.

My step Dad is a school superintendent. He has had almost 40 years of dealing with discipline and teachers and students and parents and every issue imaginable from conduct to curriculum to custody to clothing. He is also on the fence about daily conduct grades, pulling cards or sticks or red light/green light and the emphasis and singling out of young students for such small infractions or age appropriate behavior. His advice was pretty much the same as my Moms.

Help my daughter understand why such a minor thing can become major.

Why one child talking is different from 20 kids chatting it up.

But not to go overboard, not to water down her academic achievements or the thrill of each day at school with the occasional talking offense.

To accept and embrace my daughters passion for communication and expression.

She not only loves to talk, but to read and to write. All of which are related.

After all ,it is a family tradition.

Passed down from generation to generation.

Our family crest is a Book, a pen and a mouth.

My grandfather was an evangelist.

I could tell you family history for days from stories that were passed down by great grandparents ,grandparents, parents and aunts and uncles.

By nature and by nurture.

When you have a child through adoption, you thrill and celebrate those habits and characteristics that your child shares with you.

My sweet girl and I are identical in our outgoing personalities that include much verbalizing of pretty much every thought we have or at the very least writing it down (blog in point).

If we are not talking or writing, or listening to someone else's stories and words on TV then we are reading.

Communiction on every level feeds our souls and minds.

The hunger is constant.

But the verbal entrees or desserts are what we crave.

It is something that is the extra cement in our bond as mother and daughter.

Tht invisible thread between us that is made of breathe and steel and forever connects us.

How can I punish her for that very thing that I adore about her.

The very thing that my Mom and family and friends so often comment that makes us so much alike.

And she and I both love to hear that comparison.

SO thus is my quandary.

To follow my instincts and my heart and do as my mother did and her mother and her mother, let her flourish as she is.

Or do I tow the parental line and teach her to do the same.

I'm partial to her constant chatter,

Music to my ears.

I Think my Squirrel is dead!

I think it was my squirrel. And not my squirrel in the pet kind of way.

But my squirrel in the sharing of time and space kinda way.

Tuesday, when I arrived home after some errands, I sadly noticed a squirrel had been run over in front of my house.

Oh No, not my squirrel I hoped.

You see, each afternoon I have this little ritual. Around 2:30 I take my chair, the mail, some magazines or a book and sit about halfway down my drive, under some big trees and wait for my son's bus to arrive. I get about 30 minutes of nice relaxing indulgent me time before the afternoon rush hour. School has been in session for about 3 weeks now and I haven't missed a day of this ritual. I started noticing this squirrel in the tree above me one day when I was sitting catching up with Oprah and little bits of things starting falling all around me. Upon investigating, I discovered this squirrel was sitting up there gathering and chewing the shells off of hickory nuts. So each day, I sit and read and he(or she) busily gathered nuts for the impending winter. And by winter I do not mean cold and snowy weather. Around here winter is a state of mind or page on the calender not necessarily a weather related event. But I digress. I began to look forward to our little time together each day and I found myself reading less and watching the squirrel, which lead to the birds which lead to the ants, all busily at work. Never stopping to ponder life around them or just stop and do nothing.

Then I saw the squirrel mishap.

So far Tuesday and Wed. I have not seen "my" squirrel. Maybe he is off harvesting from other trees.Maybe after 3 weeks he has rid our trees of its bounty and moved on. I think this is the same squirrel that visited our bird feeder on occasion that I shooed away. Today I am going to refill the feeders to try and lure him back. This time there will be no shooing. If not, I will miss him.

Damn car!

What ,you were going too fast to brake or swerve for a little squirrel.

Or maybe he was making a made dash for the woods across the street, having heard rumor of a tree full of harvest.

The same day I noted this tragedy I read an article entitled"Life's too Short to........"

The author was telling of her AH HA moment when she realized that life was too short to do things you don't want to or skip the things that make life worth savoring. Her only lament was that she wished she had learned this years before. If got me to thinking about my own list:

Life's too Short To

Not make friends with a squirrel

Not to say No to things you really do not want to do

To say No to something you really want to do but don't think you should

Not have a least a few bites of dessert

Not lay down for a few minutes with your child, even if it is a school night

Tell your child No, when Yes won't really matter in the long run

Not live like it speeds by but also to make each day last forever

Not speak out even if you are the only one that will agree with yourself

Speak out when you know it will open a can of worms you don't really want to deal with

Worry about any of these things.

Make your own list.

A week from today I will be 47.

47 47 47 47

Who me?

I keep having these thoughts that begin with "When I grow Up I will ______(fill in the blank).

When will I actually be grown up, not on the outside, but the inside?

I have been married for 25 years and have 2 children.

Does that make me grown up?

I am a chef, travel coordinator, laundress, nurse, Housekeeper, vet, personal shopper, teacher, cheerleader, therapist, mother, lover, sister, daughter, friend, driver, accountant and secretary.

Do all of these jobs make me a grown up?

I have decided that my mantra will be

"Life's too Short to grow up"

And that's the real secret.

Spend time watching the ants, never completing your to do list, and doing what you want.

Those child like qualities that we seem to think we need to leave behind or out grow.

Why?

It seems when I get one thing marked off my list, several more get added on.

I am not talking about laundry or grocery shopping or homework or anything attached to my above jobs list.

I mean this to do List:

Write a novel and not a Pulitzer Oprah Book Club book. But a racy, trashy, scary read at the beach Nora Roberts, Jonathan Kellerman, Patricia Cornwell, John Grisham kind.

Have a hammock and actually use it.

Sleep out on our trampoline with the kids in the backyard and stare at the stars.

Live to see the book "Geek Love" made into a movie.

Learn to scuba dive.

Go to Paris and Rome and Greece and Pompeii and Scotland.

Learn to Golf

Live on the beach

Go back to college and get a degree in Special Education

Learn to make the perfect cut out and decorated Christmas cookies.

Master the perfect Fried Chicken

Have Grandchildren

See my son graduate from high school.

Live closer to my bestest friend from New Jersey.

Live to 100 and see that the world still has water, wild life and hope and happiness.

Good thing I still have a lot of growing up to do.

I've got a lot of things I am looking forward to marking off my list.

And a lot of things to add to it.

Make your own list.

Life's a lot more fun with stuff to look forward to doing.

And that's the secret,

Life's too short not to.......

P.S.

After thinking about my last post I did want to come back and clarify one thing.
I hope no one takes my thoughts on the current war in Iraq as to mean that I do not support our troops to the fullest extent and respect each and every one of them in the decision to join the military and their bravery.
My father was in the Air Force and my father- in-law was in the Navy during WWII.In fact he was one of the first soldiers to step in Hiroshima after we dropped the Atomic Bomb. I also have close friends that have son's that have enlisted within the last year. These are some of the most courageous and determined young men I know who have volunteered to risk their young lives for our country. Who have enlisted knowing full well that they will eventually be deployed to Iraq. Young, bright men who just a few months age were cheering at high school football games, picking out dates and tuxedos for Prom night and proudly accepting their diplomas in caps and gowns. Young men who had college and a future close to home at the top of their lists. They chose instead a very different path. A path that makes their parents proud and afraid, supportive and fearful. I want each and every Congressman and Senator and President to know what precious and irreplaceable souls and spirits and futures and lives that are being put into their care. It seems many have forgotten that a life, a Mom and Dad, a son or daughter, a wife, best friend, the future of America is who each one of those numbers represent , who they are and what can be taken away in an instant.What a one minute blurb on TV or a line in a newspaper truly represents. I hope every decision made to send one of them into harms way is the right decision, the only choice and they never forget the dreams and aspirations that they are in charge of.

OK, so now I am back into the blog world and I have up dated you on my summer of hell. Now that was just what was happening within my own house. But what is going on in the world this summer , let's see.................

Nicole, Lindsay,Paris really I am sure to your immediate family and friends and a few misguided fans they want a daily or hourly update, but for the rest of us I say.
PLEASE GO AWAY!
I can sorta see the interest in Lindsay Lohan-She was a wholesome and successful child actress and my daughter watches "The Parent Trap" weekly. So her quick descent into drugs, drinking and the wrong side of the law is surprising but not shocking. So much potential wasted.
But Nicole, really the only thing you have done was to have a famous and wealthy indulgent father and propel anorexia once again on the top of teenage girls "to Do List"
Shame on You!
And do not get me started on Paris Hilton. What in the world has she done that is so worthy of so much expensive air and print time.
I'm gonna say it. SHE IS UGLY, I have never seem a picture where she even comes close to cute. She doesn't act(no her stupidity is not a act and her porn video doesn't count), she doesn't sing.The only contribution to society I see her make is in the form of Shopping and then she is spending dear old Grand Dad's money. Not her Dad's or hers, but a generation back.
Let me not leave out Brittany.I missed the weather forecast the day Hell was reported to have froze over, because the fact that KFed, her ex, is the responsible, normal and most qualified parent of the two was not something anyone would have predicted.
Oh for the days when she was just a gyrating teen in a catholic school uniform.
Thank you God and Disney for Hannah Montana. And High School Musical1,2,,,,,3 and 4???
I am so glad my daughter has a normal looking, acting and talking group of celebrities to try and emulate. And that ole Achy Brakey Billy Ray Cyrus is still pretty easy on the eyes.

Iraq- Woe is us and Woe is the U.S.
It bothers me that in our newspaper the reports of deaths of our military soldiers is relegated to pages 5,6 and 7.(yes, those girls above mentioned usually get a notation on page 2.)
When did Paris and Brittany's crotch shots become more newsworthy than the deaths of our soldiers in a War most of us didn't want, in a place we should have never been in and can't seem to either win or get out of. I think most Americans have sadly gone on to other things in their thoughts and actions. We have either given up, grown weary, grown complacent or are still confused. We can't trust or believe in our president, those in the military are giving very different opinions and observations. Meanwhile we are loosing lives each day and we have to dig into the paper deeply or rewind the sound bite on the TV to hear mention of the quagmire we are in. This morning on the "Today Show" they report that since 9/11 and our quest for Bin Laden(remember he was the guy responsible, not Saddam, NOT Iraq) we have "maybe""possibly""might have" "almost" been near where he "could have" been once in 2003 but not before or since. This 6'5" Afghan who is the one responsible for the 9/11 attacks and most probably planning another we have NO CLUE where he is. Why are we not after him? Why are we warring with Iraq? I read an article this past week where military recruitment is down(DUH) and that some in Congress are bouncing around reinstating the draft.Maybe that will finally get this country off it's A*** and demand a government by and for the people, a government we trust and believe in and institute change.
In the deep dark recesses of my soul, I give a prayer of Thanks that my autistic son will never have to face a draft decision and I don't have to pack our bags for Canada. But I have nephews and sons of friends that I am very afraid for them. I had so hoped that the end of the summer would find us with answers and a clear plan and weeks or even days passing with no deaths reported. Maybe by Christmas.
So now I have unloaded the two issues that have continually pushed my buttons this summer.
Two issues that have made me thankful that my kiddos are still in the Elementary set and oblivious to this crazy world that is swirling around them.
They still think Mom and Dad are the only swirling masses they have to be concerned about.

Camping and at the Beach!

Back in the Saddle

Yes, it seems like my blogging follows the school schedule. After a summer off with the kids, I am back to pondering the meaning of life or what it doesn't mean in some cases.
I hope everyone had a great summer. Better than mine anyway.
This was not the best summer I have ever had.
Let me make a long story short,well kinda short in a War and Peace kinda way and recap what roads I have traversed since my last post.
May 17-School year ends.YEAH, kids and I both were so ready. The last 3 weeks I had to literally ( not figuratively) drag, cajole and force my son on the bus each morning to school.
Memorial weekend we depart on our long awaited camping trip to Gatlinburg Tennessee.
We love to camp, tent camping the way I did growing up. This year we added a few family members to the trip. By a few I mean 10 other people, my extended family, for 5 days. They all rented 3 cabins, we tent camped and were the designated kitchen and gathering spot.
5 days later we came home.
3 of us not speaking to 2 others.
Many lessons learned that trip.
Mainly, in the future it will be best for the 4 of us to camp with,well the 4 of us.
Nough said.

JUNE
We ease into lazy days of sleeping in, going swimming and usual slothfulness.My husband and I celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary on the 12th.
The next week I get what seems like a 48 hour Flu that morphs into a cough. When my husband finally forces me to the doctor after a few days of a high fever, I am told I have Pneumonia, DOUBLE Pneumonia. I take the prescribed Z pack, Mucinex, drink lots of water and rest.
Yes, that's a pipe dream.
Relax when you are in charge of 2 kids, a dog , a cat, 8 fish, 2 hermit crabs and a house 24/7.
Did you know you can actually cough to the point that you have the bladder control of an elderly woman that has birth 20 kids ?
NONE!
Adds a little something extra to the whole experience. I perfected the quick cross legged Kegal exercise cough stance. June passes and still the cough lingers.
JULY
Still coughing, feel fine-sound like a 10 pack a day smoker. Really attractive.
My daughter looses 2 teeth, my son 2 teeth. One of which propels him into our bedroom at 10:30 at night, blood everywhere, screaming that he's scared and trying to stuff his upper front tooth back into his gum. Now mind you this is the 4th tooth he has lost with barely a recognition to those. Takes us an hour to calm him down.
Mid to late July, I am still coughing and my husband casually mentions a time or two that his vision seems a little blurry.Must be time for an eye exam and glasses update.
Last week of July my husband finally go to the eye doctor. Who sends him to a Retina Specialist.
Who sends him to a doctor at Eye Foundation Hospital. Who thinks he may have had a stroke. Who sends him for an MRI. Then to a neurologist.All of this in 2 days. Never has the medical world done so much so fast ever. All of this with me having to drive and with our two precious angels in tow. Me still having the occasional cough a thon.After tossing and turning all night wondering how I was going to deal with an Autistic son and a blind husband,we find out no stroke, he has what is called Optic Neuritis.An inflammation of the Optic nerve and causes (temporary or permanent) vision loss , blurring and peripheral vision loss. Can also be an early sign of Multiple Sclerosis. I am almost wishing it had been a micro stroke.
They give him masses doses of steroids-24 doses in 3 days and tell us to wait and see.
A lovely wait since the side effect causes severe headache, lethargy and increase appetite.
Also wonderful timing since we left a few days later for a week at the beach.
Me driving. I hate to drive. My husband hates to ride with me driving.
All in all we have a great time at the beach. Perfect weather and an incredible condo.
Kids have a blast, Dad relaxes, Mom catches it all on film....cough lingering on.
Mom drives home, Dad getting used to having a chauffeur.
August.
Buy school supplies, meet the teachers, School starts Aug.9.
LOVE my son's teacher,which is always a new school year issue for him. But this year I am so happy, so that's a great start. My daughter's teacher is the 1st grade half teacher of her Flex class last year so we already knew her. She's kinda rigid and not too free with the "Thata Girls" but we will tough it out. Still a cough every now and then. Husbands Eyes Improve.
Second week of school.Kids doing good, I am feeling like my old self finally, husband getting used to small visual impairment. I get some new contacts and can ditch the reading glasses.
Husband mentions he must have pulled a muscle in his shoulder unloading the car after our vacation.OK OK so I pack a heavy suitcase.
A few days later, after the his shoulder pain gets markedly worse and I am secretly thinking, is this what happens when you turn 50 and finally stop smoking, all bodily hell breaks loose.
He develops a rash, goes to the Doctor. Shingles. Yes, shingles, a mainly old peoples malady.
Also, interestingly brought on by large doses of steroids.
He moans and groans and takes Valtrex.
Yes, the Valtrex of those commercials with the hunky guy and gorgeous girl who look like they have never even had a zit ,talking about genitial herpes. I apply Calamine lotion and pray no one we know saw him getting THAT prescription filled at Walmart.
So here we are, 3 weeks in to August and 2 weeks into the new school year.
Shingles gone, vision improving, Cough down to once a day.
Life is good. No wait, Dear husband now has a nasty cold.
Woe is me.
SO that is a few reasons why blogging was last on my proverbial To Do List.
I realize how much I missed it. I hope at least one of you missed it too.
Is anyone still out there????
I hope the rest of you had a nice relaxing trauma and sickness free summer.
See ya tomorrow

FINDING PEACE

One of my son's favorite things is to go to the Publix grocery store, go to the Seafood department and belly up to the counter and ask for 1 pound of shrimp, Please. He then proceeds to carry the small. white papered and tightly bound treasure for the rest of the shopping trip. And that night I will dream up a way to fit the shrimp into our meal. And yes, he will eat it if my recipe is boiling, grilling or frying the shrimp. A small price to pay for the happiness and pride he has in bringing shrimp to our table.
Last week when we were checking out after our shrimping expedition,the elderly man who always seems to bag our grocery's was trying to have a conversation with my son after watching him so carefully place all of our groceries on the conveyer belt and then just as carefully placed each filled plastic bag of groceries back in the cart.My son was so proud of his helping me out. This very kind man soon realized that my very tall and older than his years looking boy was a little "off". He asked me was he autistic and I, for the first time, very easily and unselfconsciously and proudly answered that yes, he was autistic. That was an AH HA! moment. I realized that I had made my peace in my heart and soul and mind about my son and his autism. I am member of a group on Cafemom.com of mothers of Autistic/PDD/Asperger's children. We have over 2000 members. Every week there are several that post for the first time after learning that their child is or may have a Autism Spectrum Disorder. They are grieving and scared and not sure what emotions they are feeling. I know because I have felt them all. I can look back at what is the stages of my life as the mother to an ASD child.My son was adopted at the age of 9 months from a foreign orphanage. He was very underweight and developmentally behind and we fell in love at first sight. He very quickly caught up and reached his milestones and was a happy NT child. Around age 2 1/2 I began to suspect a few things. He was behind in speech and was sensitive to certain noises, hated being in a crowded or closed space. But he was otherwise a pretty normal kid. He slept well and ate well, was great at play and entertaining himself, great imagination and had a laid back personality and was very easy to parent. He was affectionate.He started ST and OT at age 3 for expressive language delay and sensory issues. Still no mention or thoughts of ASD. He went to a regular preschool at age 3 and 4 and had no problems other than those already mentioned. He started K5 at the school he had been receiving EI , so he was comfortable with that. MIdway through K5, his IEP manager(who had become a personal friend) told me she was somewhat stymied by my son's group of issues. She had had many autistic students and he did not really exhibit the same symptons as they did but sometimes she would have a flash that autism was somehow involved. He met his IEP and curriculm requirements and went on to 1st grade. She told me that if my son did have an ASD diagnosis,they could adapt his curriculm and he would be provided a one on one aide in class.I knew that those services would benefit my son, but it was still hard to say the "autism" word. I called the Sparks Diagnostic Clinic in Sept. and got an appointment in Jan. During those 4 months I read everything I could get my hands on about autism, PDD, Asperger's and every other learning issue. The More I read the more I realized that Yes he sound like an ASD child and NO in many ways he did not. Like most Moms, I concentrated on the ways he was not ASD. 3 months and 3 days of testing later, he was diagnosed PDD.Autistic.PDD-NOSHIgh Functioning for surebut simply put, he was on the autims spectrum.That was last year.A year has passed since then. I cried for him, I cried for me, I cried for the future-his and ours.I cried about the unknowns and I cried about the possibilities. When someone asked about his diagnosis I would tell them Pervasive Developmental Disorder- a long name but it did not have the word autism in it. Many were none the wiser.Then I started seeing all the wonderful thnigs about my son.All the normal 8 year old boy things.Then I began to see the wonderful things about him that were because of his ASD.Yes, there are many wonderful and magical things about him, his view of the world and his personality that are a gift of his autism.After that when it would come up in coversation or out in the world , I began to just share that yes,he was autistic.You cannot tell by looking at him, or watching him play or doing most of the everyday things in life.But when it comes up and people wonder or ask or look interested in him, I want his gorgeous face and happy blue eyes to be the face of autism for them.It has taken a while and yes if I could wave my magic wand I would erase his ASD. But since that isn't possible, I am embracing his autism as I embrace him. He and I have a special bond that we have with no one else.We have a bond that I do not see between other family and friends and their children. I am peace with his autism.That doesn't mean that we do not work hard everyday on the issues it brings or have days that we curse it.But I also see everyday that I have an amazing one of a kind son and I thank God each night for the blessing and priviledge and honor to be his mother.He may be a special child,but he also makes me feel like a special Mom.

Life Going On

WOW, I cannot believe that 6 weeks have flown by since my last posting.
So much as happened in my world.

I guess it's best to start at the beginning.
During Spring Break my bestest friend brought her three children ALLLLL the way from the far North to see us. I have to say that no one has gone to that much trouble to see me, ever, in my entire life. She, with out husband along, boarded a plane with a 8 year old, a 6 year old and a 19 month old for the 3 hour flight to our house. ALONE! I was so very touched that she did that and I also Thank her husband John for letting me steal away his family for that long.
It was their first foray into that foreign land called THE SOUTH. Her kids were nervous about what they would have to eat and what language we spoke and probably did we have indoor plumbing. The 6 year old asked did we have "MacDonald's". Her youngest , a daughter from China, just smiled and jabbered and stole all of our hearts. The week was a total success.
The boys learned they love Strawberry Rhubarb Jam
they all learned to say "fixin" and "Gonna" and "Tumped"
I learned that zoos up north do not have alligators or crocodiles
and I learned that those Green lizards in my back yard are called Anoles
the brown ones Skinks
those big moths are Owl Moths
and we pretty much have more of every kind of bug and insect than they do in New Jersey.
I now feel like I am living in the middle of Wild Kingdom.
Funny how a new child's perspective on your everyday life can jazz things up.
Thanks Patrick.
Their visit also reaffirmed my diligence in keeping our families in touch, not just by emotion or phone or letter but physically in touch. All of our 5 children are through the miracle of adoption-4 from Russia and one from China. They are the only family I am close to that is the same as ours in that respect. I know in my heart and soul that not only is my connection with Christine vital to my sanity and existence but that our children's connection with each other as they grow up will also be just as vital to them on many levels. WE are already planning our next rendezvous.

Since my last post 3 more teeth have been lost. My daughter has lost 2 on the bottom-one she coerced me to pull with some hemostats because she could not stand it being loose. The second tooth, her kindergarten teacher had the honor so that Macy could go to the school nurse and get the plastic Tooth necklace to keep it in. This is apparently a most coveted piece of jewelry. Riley went to school one morning with a very loose front tooth and came home without it.
Being a man a few words , when asked where his tooth was he replied "Gone"
later that night he elaborated "tooth on the bus".OK.

Since my last post I lost my grandmother. She passed away at the age of 94.5 years old. She was my last remaining grandparent. We were planning a big 95 birthday party for her in Nov.
I still have the note written on the memo board in my kitchen reminding me to call her the week she passed away. I never did make that call. Always thought I would have time that Sat. to make it. She passed early Sat. Morning.I was very close to all of my grandparents.They were all such different personalities and taught me different things. The one thing they all had in common was making sure that the family stayed connected in thought and in action. My childhood is made up of many thousands of miles of road trips to visit my grandparents and cousins. Weeks at a time at spring break and holidays and in the summer. Long weekends for Easter, reunions or FSU football games. I can see many traits in myself that I got from each grandparent. I think these are things I picked up through nurture rather than nature. I believe because I spent so much time during all ages of my life with them that I learned or assimilated personality or opinions from them through osmosis via close contact. I am so thankful and grateful that my parents knew the worth in family and put forth the energy and time it took to keep family ties alive and well. I hope that I am doing that for my children and in my own family tree and in my husbands. I feel that we are. We just went to my Aunt's wedding in mid state Florida. Not so much to see my 70 year old aunt marry, but to get together with all of my cousins and family and make sure that my children got to know them and vice verse. Paying forward what my parents and their parents started. We laughed , told old stories, embarrassed our kids and vow to do it again soon.
So when I got the call early Saturday morning, a week ago, I was surprised, but not shocked. She had gone down in the past few weeks and was ready for the Lord to take her home.
I was sad because I hadn't made that phone call, but smiled remembering all the memories and time we had spent together through out my life. She knew she was well loved, as did I.
She taught me how to make Cornflake candy, Apple Cake and Roast with Noodle.
She taught me about my ancestors and to love our family history.
She told me funny stories about my Dad, the preacher's son, and all the antics he pulled as a boy.
She loved to write(As I do) and wrote out lots of family history and stories, recipes and antidotes for me to keep. A wonderful gift.
I can close my eyes and see her playing the organ in the big church as my Grandpa preached and tapping on her watch for him to see when he was being a little long winded and needed to wrap it up. After all , she and the other ladies of the church had Sunday dinner cooking in the oven. It always cracked us up when she did that. When all of the grand kids (8 of us) were in town on a Sunday. We would wait until the service was about to begin then we would all march in a single file line down the center aisle and sit on the front pew in front of the organ that Grandma would play. We sang the hymns loudly and badly and when we would fidget my Grandpa would leave the pulpit,walk to our pew, hand out lifesavers to us and never miss a beat or a word as he return to the podium. I have hundreds of memories like that.
Her funeral in the Hot Florida sun was sad, but mostly joyous. My cousins played their guitars and harmonica and we all sang. All of us together again. Another Family Memory. Afterward, all 50 of us went to the Golden Corral to eat before we each headed off to different states and different cities. Another family reunion of sorts.
I am sure that Grandma and Grandpa and my Dad were right there among us. Laughing at our stories and reminiscing with us.
Taking Pride that we are carrying on the family tradition and joyous in seeing us all together.
When we said our good byes we promised to get together again soon.
I hope we keep that promise.
To My Grandmother, Mabel Marie Minton, I will miss you and now I will be calling you often.
Just though a different calling service.
I love you Grandma.

If you have a parent or grandparent or sibling cousin or friend that you haven't touched base with in a while.
Do It Now.
I wish I had.

Special Child, Special Love

Recently I have joined a web group composed of Moms of Special Needs kids.I have been so inspired by them and we have become a great resource and support for each other at cafemom.com. Most members are Mom's like me who have been parenting a differently abled child for a while, some are Mom's just beginning the journey and others are waiting for a child to be born that they are already aware it will have some issues. You may surprised to learn that their main emotion is not disappointment or Why me? or Why My Child?
The fear of the unknown is most prevalent.
They have no doubt that they will love and cherish this child.
They worry are
they strong enough,
resourceful enough and
have enough courage to help this child navigate life and sometimes just live?
How will are lives change?
Since my two are adopted from Russia, that forum also deals with special children with special needs from mental and emotional to physical. Recently a Mom asked for words of encouragement while awaiting the birth of a special needs child.
This is what I told her
As the mother of a special needs child, I can offer these few thoughts.
The unknown was far scarier and harder than the reality.
The blessings of my son was more than we could have ever imagined.
He has taught us more about love, compassion, happiness and success than we could have ever learned in any other way.
We are far better and happier people than we were before him.
You will be stronger, more courageous,more resourceful and flexible than you ever imagined you could be.
Those that are never tested, never know their full potential.
We could not imagine and would never want to imagine our lives without our son.
We have met the most amazing children and incredible parents through our son.And they have fully enriched our lives.
No matter how difficult a moment may be, we have encountered other parents and children facing far worse hurdles with much worse prognosis than we faced and they wished to GOD that they were dealing with the issues that we were facing, someone or something always appeared to put our lives and struggle into perspective and give us a new outlook on our life and our son.
I look at my son's issues as a Badge.
Not one he asked for but one he must wear.
A Badge of Courage
A Badge of Honor
I hope I can show the world it is a Badge of Promise
I hope I can teach him it is a Badge of Pride
I believe that there was something in my spirit and soul that guided God to place this amazing and precious child in my arms and my heart.
He makes me feel special and honored and blessed.
I want to tell all parents who are parenting a special child or may in the future.
There will come a day and a time that you will look at your unique and amazing child and say
"THANK YOU" to the universe for all that he is to you and all that he has given you.
This I know for sure.

Officially out of the Baby Zone

I have reached another Mommy milestone this past week.
First off, both of my babies have lost their first baby teeth.
Second, After redecorating our son's room last week, there are no longer a single remnant of either child's nursery in view. In fact, my son's Red and Gray Bama and FSU Seminole theme room could be the room of an 8 year old or an 18 year old, complete with Queen size bed.
Third, I gave the last of my baby paraphernalia away. The crib, changing table and Jogging Stroller that have been hibernating in my attic, I gave to my niece who is about to give birth to number 4.
Which brings me to
Fourth, I have absolutely not a single solitary residual feeling of Baby Envy. I loved the baby and toddler stages of my two. But only my two. Loved it, lived it and do not wish to return.
I have no desire for and it takes some effort for the OOOing or AHHHing about anything baby related. You could say I've lost that loving feeling toward babies. That is in regard to baby of my own. Someone Else's OK, I can tolerate it but even then, I've just lost interest.
I find myself really enjoying a child who can have an opinion, a conversation and a trip to the bathroom unescorted.
I like that mine can help with the laundry instead of just make laundry.
I like that they can go outside and play without my supervision needed to prevent them from eating dirt or bugs or playing in the street.
If they eat a bug now, well it just means they knew what they were doing and just wanted to and they now tell me when I get to close to the street.
I like that when we get in the car, other than the booster seats I insist they still sit in, I am not lugging along any other kid stuff. No stroller, or diaper bag or sippy cup or kid friendly food. If I don't need it than neither do they.
It actually feels rather freeing to be able to admit all of this.
I know some Mom's mourn this part of their life, when a new baby in the house is no longer an option for any number of reasons. They pine for the days of bottles, nightly awakenings and Mommy and me classes. Mom's who eagerly reach out for any and every baby to hold, breathe in deeply the smell of Johnson's Baby lotion and curdling formula stains almost as if it is an aphrodisiac.
Like a baby holds some Magic Youth Potion.
I think it works the opposite.
The older mine get ,the more sleep I get, the more help I get, the more energetic and youthful I feel.
Like the more birthdays they have, the less birthdays I feel.
My 6 year old daughter smells like my Estee Lauder Beyond Paradise Perfume.
My son smells like Cool Ranch Doritos and a Dr.Pepper.
To me, that's the smell of Youth.
The smell of energy and vitality.
The way my babies are smelling these days.
And I'm loving every whiff of it.

Is it Summer Yet,?

It must be spring fever. I find myself lately counting up how many school days left before summer vacation. And I think I am the only Mom around here that thinks this way. When I made the statement around some other Moms that I could not wait until school was out, they looked at me sorta like I just sprouted a new head. I can tell my kids are also getting a bit weary of the school year. Ok, they are only in kindergarten and 2nd grade and have a lot of school years ahead of them (and me) but we LOVE our time off. Am I an aberration of the species of mothers that I actually enjoy having mine around all day? I can get that part of homeschoolers. Make our own schedule, our own school hours, more field trips and vacation whenever we wanted. OK, maybe I would not be a good homeschool Mom.I doubt our school year would last 9 months. I'd be good for about 6 months/4 hours a day. But I am beginning to see the reasons why some choose this route. School now starts in early August. What's up with that? No fall break, shorter holidays. Is there more to learn now than when I was in school. I learned to read the same words and books, did the same math, the same history, the same science. Ok, we didn't have computer class, but we did have art and music and library and P.E. And every week it seems I am sending money for this program or that T Shirt or a reading fund-raiser or a field trip or PTO Friday Tattoos or Ice cream day in the lunchroom. And don't think you can just say No. All the kids are getting tattoos or ice cream, so you can't in good conscience single your child out to make a fiscal stand. Or when the teacher sends a note saying that ALL the children will be wearing the TShirt on such and such day and again you will not choose to make a stand at your child's expense. It's school supported and peer mandated extortion. Free education, what a concept. And it's not a matter of the amount of money for us but I think about the families that a dollar here and ten dollars there does make a difference. How do they feel when they can't cough up the money. What does it do to their self esteem, peer standings and how is this part of No Child Left Behind mindset?Are they the only kid without the matching T Shirt?
Maybe I am just being too critical or too focused on this lately.
I Love our school and the teachers and students and I know that compared to other schools in our area, we are getting hit less for incidental money than the others.
There is no other school I would put my kids in and they have been phenomenal with services, attention and individual help for my special son.
I think that all this is just my readiness for the end of school.
Spring Break is in a few week and a fantastic thing is happening that week.
My bestest girlfriend from New Jersey is coming to visit. She is bringing her two sons and her newly adopted daughter from China who I have not yet met. To say we are excited is an understatement. We met in Russia while we were each adopting our first sons. The bond was instant, deep and took us both by surprise. I am sure we seem the odd couple, the Rebel and the Yank. North meets South. But inside we share the same mind, soul and outlook on life. She gets me and my life like no one else. We are like twins separated somewhere in Heaven (Or Hell somedays) before being sent to earth.
This will be their first trip south. I think her kids think their visit "South" is akin to visiting a foreign country. Her son asked did we by chance have McDonald's here. I think they are worried about what kind of food they are going to have to eat down here.
She once asked me what was it with southerners and beans.
She thinks Fried Okra is some kinda fish.
And she has never met a grit.
I am thinking of ways I can freak them out while they are here. But I can understand. We visited them a few years ago in New Jersey. And it did have aspects of treading on foreign soil. So I guess my school weariness could be a combo of spring fever and anticipation of their trip. I feel very honored she is taking on an airplane flight without her dear husband along and with an 8, 6 and 1 year old in tow. That is true friendship and I do not think anyone in my life has ever gone to such lengths to spend time with me. And on top of all that it is not even their spring break, so she is taking the two oldest out of school for the occasion.
Another caveat to having a long distance friend come visit.
The Honey Do list gets done and I really have a spark in me to CLEAN HOUSE.
I mean really clean. God Forbid she sees how we really live. HA!
So only 25 days until she gets here .
And then after her visit only 60 and 1/2 days until summer vacation.
I hope I can make it.
When I break it down like that it seems like a light at the end of the tunnel.
A light that is sleeping late, trips to the park or the pool or the beach or the backyard or camping.
No plans or lots of plans.
Spur of the moment or carefully plotted.
And over all too soon.
I remember when August meant you still had 1/3rd of your summer left.
AHHH, the good ole days.
So when my kids are looking weary of school and I am all dollared out, I can honestly tell them
"I feel your Pain",
Boy, do I feel your pain.
Not that it does any good , but I feel it.
Or maybe that's just my bursitis and tendinitis acting up.

Happy Valentine's Day

So after signing, folding, taping on candy for 18 x 2 classes at school for my two little cupids, I signed on this morning to read some wonderful news. My web friend in adoption and her husband are in Russia on their second trip to adopt their beautiful new daughter. She surprised us all by announcing that this morning they had been to court and their adoption was finalized. How wonderful to have Valentine's Day as the Birthday of your family. I am so happy for her and her husband but especially for this darling little girl whose life is about to change so exponentially into love, warm hugs, constant attention and a future that she can't even imagine.
And the wonderful world of magic of being a Mommy and a Daddy that her new parents have just jumped into will be a joy to read about in the coming months.

My husband and I used to really "do" Valentine's Day.
Before Kids.
Flowers, Candle lite expensive restaurants, one too many glasses of the bubbly, then home to jacuzzi bubble baths and ...........well you get the picture.
AHHHHHH the memories.

Now its, how many valentines do I need to buy for school, what school snack have I been assigned to send and what can I cook for dinner so that it's not just another day at the ranch.
Yesterday my daughter brought me flowers.
She had taken her special vase outside, picked my just bloomed daffodils and some pansies. She had the yellow and orange flowers arranged on the outside and the purple pansies in the center. She had carefully and artfully made the arrangement and added just the right amount of water. I could see in her eyes, when she brought them to me with trembling hands, pride, worry about having picked my flowers and love.
OK, it made me cry.
All I saw was the love- my beautiful daughter, out of the blue, taking such time and effort to show me how much she loved me in such a simple way. I, of course, hugged and kissed and thanked her as if I had just won an Oscar and we set them in a place of honor.
I believe that was the best Valentine's Day present ever.
It's all about LOVE and in my house we feel it 365 days a year.
Feb.14 is nothing special.
Well, unless your 6 year old brings you flowers.

So tonight, we have a reservation for a family of four at a very exclusive , one table restaurant.
We won't have to get dressed up or drive.
And pets are welcome
We will have white table cloth and candles.
We will share some bubbly.
The menu will be steak and french fires and Chicken nuggets.
I think I will make some cupcakes for my children.
Something sinfully chocolate for Mommy and Daddy.
I'll even let them drink some Sprite out of my good wine glasses.

We should be finished just in time for "Deal or No Deal"

The Perfect Valentine's Celebration
Honoring Love
Love for each other
Love for our family

And loving that it did not involve shaving my legs, panty hose ,high heels or a babysitter.
It just involved LOVE.

The More Things Change....................

On the Russian adoption web board that I participate in, a recent thread was about all the things as Mom's we could not live with out in our daily lives.
Here are some of the must haves-
Baby Wipes
Tide to Go Pen
Email
Internet
Mr.Clean Eraser
Netflix
DVR
DVD Player in the Car
Zip Lock Bags
Sippy Cups
Washable Marker's
Mother's Day Out
Pay at the Pump Gas
Matchbox Cars
Disposible Diapers
Juice Boxes
Minivans
Digital Camera's
Eggo Waffles
Diet Drinks
Tide
Microwave Popcorn
Debit cards
ATM's
and my favorite two that were posted a lot were
Husband
and a Cold one at the end of the day!

This got me to thinking about my Mom and How did she do it. How did any of our mother's do it?
Cloth diapers alone would have ended it for me. I threw quite a few pairs of toddler panties away rather than scrape the poop out. Occasionally I will pop popcorn on the top of the stove like we did in the old days. This totally excites my kids. They think I am some magical chef to be able to do it without a microwave. Still the microwave reigns supreme.
How did my Mom, heat baby food and bottles and leftovers?
How were we not on the bottle until age 6 without Spill Proof sippy cups and juice boxes?
And I know my two would never make it on just 3 TV channels and no remote.
My daughter cannot even wrap her brain around no DVD's or Video tapes when I was growing up. And quite frankly I would not want her (Or me ) to experience that. At age 5 she can work the DVR recorder on the satellite receiver and knows that to get a new movie from NetFlix by the weekend , you gotta mail the old one in on Monday or Tuesday.
Kids these days stare in horror when we tell them that when we rode in the car it was the radio and the window for entertainment. No DVD player, no Ipod, No Nintendo or Game Boy. There must have been a lot of crazed families emerging from those station wagons after long car trips.
We went camping every summer and fall growing up.
Propane stoves and kerosene lanterns.
Canvas Cots or just a sleeping bag on the ground.
Campfire provided heat at night.
We have carried on the tradition of camping with our kids. They still get the same things out of it that we did. It's the same, Yet different.
I call it City Camping. Oh, we go to the same campgrounds in Tennessee or Georgia. We sleep in a tent, build a campfire,makes smores,tell scary stories,use communal bathrooms. That is where the similarity ends.
We are plugged in. Literally.
Electric stove top, Toaster Oven, Coffee Maker, heater and fan, small TV w/built in DVD player and game connections, waffle iron.
We sleep on Queen Size Pillow Top Air Mattresses blown up with an electric AIr Pump and made up with pillows and sheets and blankets.
Childhood-The Same but Different.
I can't wait to see my kids as parents and telling their children about how rough they had it as a child. I can also just imagine my grandchildren's faces when I tell them about the really old days when I was a child.
Maybe I can add the walked a mile to school in the snow.
That one always works.

There's New Royal Couple in the Castle!

I'm BBBAAAAACKKKKKKKKKKK

Well, I am back. We just returned from a week at Walt Disney World and had a fabulous time. I think we finally got everything right all at the same time on a vacation.
Weather was perfect,crowds low.
Stayed at the Yacht Club Resort on site and it was gorgeous and the perfect location and they upgraded our room for free.
We decided to fly instead of drive and to not rent a car and that was a great decision. My husband was so happy and relaxed to be able to leave all the driving to someone else. Disney really has their on site transportation down to a science.
My husband also actually did not do any long distance work, check in at the office or keep his phone with him this trip, another sign of his commitment to truly relax and enjoy the week.
We had a tentative daily schedule and had one dining reservation made for each day and I have to say,as the Activities Chairman and Tour Guide, I did a great job.
We were all sad to have to come home, a true sign of a good trip.
I did learn a few things this trip about my children and my husband......and myself.
First ,my kids.
This was the first trip to Disney without using a stroller. My two little troopers never once complained of getting tired even though I am sure we walked miles and miles every day. They stayed close to us and never once wandered off or tried to get lost. They earned their stroller free status for good. I also know that we all enjoyed the parks so much more because of the stroller less freedom. Because of this new found status , I noticed something at the parks. The huge number of strollers and how rude and ignorant of the "walkers" most stroller pushers were acting. They would travel in packs three and four strollers wide totally blocking an entire street width from anyone passing them.And then the entire wheeled entourage would stop to gab or peruse a map or just look around confused while about several hundred pedestrians behind them would come to a grinding halt and they remained oblivious to what they were doing.I was also shocked at how many6,7,8 and 9 year old's were being pushed around the parks. I mean, aren't we a nation that is lamenting our overweight and under exercised kids? Why were so many healthy and able bodied kids being pushed around the parks? I am still perplexed by what I saw. I am feeling pretty smug that my two lean fit kiddos walked and cavorted through the parks and endless walking with energy and excitement and never once looking out of breath or out of shape.
Second thing I learned was that my husband and I take a different approach to discipline on vacation. I saw that I tend to relax a bit and let things slide and generally take a gentler view of some behavior. I understand that they are excited when faced with new experiences and surroundings and cut them some slack.
Dad on the other hand , seemed to go the other way. Expecting a little more since we are in public constantly on vacation and seemed to forget a little that they were just 5 and 7. I think about midweek he even began to get on his own nerves and saw "the Light" and came over to my side and chilled out.
We were very proud of our son, who did great the entire week with nary a meltdown or PDD or SI incident.My husband and I have always had a different approach to our son and his challenges. Dad tries to figure out before hand what he will and won't like and direct activities accordingly. I, on the other hand, will let him try anything and then go to plan B or chalk it up to experience it things don't go as planned. Our different views came into play on Day One. Magic Kingdom offers so many new and different rides that can thrill or horrify a child with an autism spectrum disorder and my husband is little more protective than me of the little prince . Add to that our daughter,the princess, who has yet to meet a ride that is fast enough, scary enough or high enough to satisfy her 5 year old self. The term fearless was created with her in mind. In line for our first ride, Goofy's Barnstormer, which is a kiddie roller coaster that is pretty fast and very curvy and more of a mini adult version rather than a tame child one, my dear husband kept giving me the " your going to see I'm right"eye as we stood in line. My son watched the coaster whiz by and laughed and jumped around in anticipation as the screams of the riders echoed. Husband just kept shaking his head. I wasn't really sure which way it would go, but hoping for the best. Our turn,-we ride, we scream, we get off. And my wonderful and brave son screeches with delight "WOW, That was FUN"! 1 point for Mom, Dad proud of son and waiting for Mom to say I told you so. I didn't.Wanted to, but refrained.
I vowed long ago to always give my son the chance to experience life and all it has to offer, I will never count him out before giving him a chance. I will not water down or censor life or fun or heartache to make things easier. He deserves more and I am going to make sure he has the chances to get it all. The entire week he rode and did everything, just like any other adventurous 8 year old boy would have. Another milestone in our life. I bet most Developmental experts don't have Disney listed as a milestone, but they should.
My daughter, was so thrilled that at 46", she was tall enough for every ride, except for one a Animal Kingdom. She took her first ride on Space Mountain and after proclaiming that she just had a heart attack, wanted to ride it again. I think I for see bungee jumping or parachuting in her future.
So overall, it was a perfect vacation and we are trying to figure out how soon we can go back.
Before we became parents, my husband and I tallied up a lot of vacati0ns in those 20 years. Every beach within a 10 hour drive, Mexico several times, New Orleans, Dallas, 3 weeks sailing around the British Virgin Islands, the mountains, lakes...you name it we've been there. My hubby used to kid me that I only worked so I could go on vacation, that I lived from trip to trip and that we always had one coming up or one in the planning stages.
Having kids did not change that at all, in fact we are more determined than ever to share vacation experiences with them.They give us an excuse to be kids again and ride the Flying Dumbo Ride. And who can ever get tired of "It's a Small World" or having dinner with Winnie the Pooh or breakfast with Mickey and Minnie and and Donald and Goofy.Never thought at 46 and 51 we would be having such a grand time on vacations that included no Happy Hours. Although watching my two giving big hugs and wide grins to Piglet and Cinderella seemed like a pretty grand Happy Hours to us.
Now back to the real world, at least until our next trip, which yes, is already planned and reservati0ns made.
It's my job as Freeman Family of Four Tour Guide and Fun Director!

First Tooth Fairy Visit

Well, Today was traumatic day, more for me than my son,when it was all said and done. Other than shots for vaccinations and my son's circumcism when he was 9 months old, I have not had to witness my children undergoing any type of painful procedure. They will be 6 and 8 in a few weeks and we have had no broken bones, no stitches and no visits to the emergency room.And yes, I am knocking on wood as I say this.
My son, almost 8, has lost no teeth. Nothing loose. His dentist reassured us that boys quite commonly loose teeth later and not to be concerned. He has great teeth, never a cavity or even the slightest plaque buildup despite his sensory aversion to brushing regularly. His dentist told me his teeth look like he brushes and flosses about 3 times a day. 6 months ago, right before his checkup, I noticed that his two front and center permanent teeth had begun erupting through the gum behind his baby teeth. At his visit, we took xrays , everything was fine and we all though that in the next few months his baby teeth would come out.
This past Tuesday, 6 months later, we all realized that his baby teeth are not going anywhere unassisted.
"We will need to pull those two baby teeth, it will be easy and take about 10 minutes" is what she said,
"We will need to velcro your son down and violently and bloodily pull those teeth out with pliers" is what I heard.
Two permanent teeth were now about 50% in and I knew she was right.Knowing school starts back next week and the week after we are heading to Walt Disney World, I scheduled the extractions for today. My husband turned green at just the thought of it so I knew I was on my own.
This morning we left the house, dropped little sister off at my niece's house and took off to do "errands", my son innocently and joyfully along for the ride. My omission in telling him where we were going was not sneaky of cruel, he just would not have understood. The minute I got off at the exit, he knew where we were heading, not why but that 6 months had not passed since his visit on Tuesday. When I pulled in the parking lot, his radar went into full alert and it took me 5 minutes to coax him out of the car. Once inside he was, let's say, unhappy and not user friendly. We began to play and he relaxed and even went along to the ROOM and climbed up on the chair and laid down. Then IT BEGAN.
In about 30 seconds we had him velcroed into place as he shouted"Leave Riley Alone"
They slapped the happy gas on him and QTipped some topical analgesic on his gum.
60 seconds later she gave him an injection that was so fast neither Riley or myself realized she had even done it.
2 minutes later, her assistant(Who is also my best friend since 6th grade) handed her the pliers and in 5 seconds both teeth were out. A little gel foam , a rinse and a wipe and he was sitting up, no tears and telling them , Thank You
I tossed and turned all night about a 6 minute procedure. Literally 6 minutes is all it took.
He skipped out of there with tattoos, stickers and a promise of many escalators rides at the mall nearby.
30 minutes later we were riding those same escalators and he was looking as if he was having the best day of his life.
An hour later he was eating lunch and feeling pretty special.
I am just now relaxing about the whole thing and realizing that my oldest has just reached another milestone in his life, his first lost teeth and the first visit of the Tooth Fairy to our house.
He already looks a little older, a little wiser since this morning. Those two permanent teeth already making a grand appearance.
I am glad that I turned a deaf ear to my Overprotective Mommy Self and quickly got this over with. I see that it bothered me much more than it bothered him. I also see that by my not mentioning it and acting rather nonchalant on the outside probably helped. Inside I was a sniveling crying mess.
I will save these teeth forever. It is a sign of his courage. And Mine in some small way.
I was so proud of him today.
Once again he surpassed my expectations by a mile.This precious special son of mine has once again shown me that I should never underestimate him or what he is capable of handling with grace and an amazing spirit. I will never underestimate the healing power of a ride up and down an escalator. Not once or twice but about 15 times.
Now, I must make a call to the Tooth Fairy and place an order for a visit.

Jan. 1,2007

Happy New Year to All!

We said goodbye to 2006 in grand fashion here at home. With family, friends and lots of food and fireworks.
The kids stayed up until well past midnight and then got up at 7am to have breakfast with my cousin and her family on their way back home to Miami. In fact, my sister and her family made the early morning breakfast also and I cannot think of a more fitting way to start the new year.
I have not seen my cousin in about 4 years and it was so great to be able to spend the evening with her. Although it was a short visit, we are able to reconnect and cover a lot of ground in a few hours. It reminded me that is what is so great about family. The way you are always connected no matter how much time as gone by since you have seen each other or talked. Our blood and all of the times we spent together growing up at our Grandparent's house is a bond never to be broken. Last night caused me to add another resolution to my list. To make a bigger effort to plan times for my two to spend with their cousins. Even though growing up, we always lived a state or two away from our relatives, my parents made sure that our visits were frequent and long enough to forge a connection between us. No road trip too far to undertake in the name of family. I still can't pass by a green Ford Station Wagon without tearing up. My two are fortunate that all of their first cousins live within 15 minutes of us, so I have no excuse not to make sure their time together is frequent. No matter the friends I still have from childhood, team mates, classmates and high school clique, it is my family and cousins that have remained the most constant, most dependable and with whom I feel the closest bond.I want that for my children also. It is one of the most important and meaningful things my parents taught us.
I feel a good old fashioned Family Reunion in the making.......
Today was a great day. After returning from breakfast and cleaning up all the fireworks trash, we had a nice lazy family day. Football and a nice fire in the fireplace. Kids played outside and inside with minimal fuss. I read up on our upcoming trip to Disney and my husband contemplated who would be the next University of Alabama football coach. Which here in our state is more important than who will be the next president.
After a good old southern meal of Black Eyed Peas, Mustard Greens and Cornbread, everyone is sacked out but me. A satisfying way to start the new year.
A year I hope brings more peace to the world.
A year I hope my children don't grow up quite as much as they did last year.
A year I hope goes by slowly and gently and wonderfully simple.
For you.
And for us.

Dosvidaniya! 2006 Privyet! 2007

Well, between the Holidays, no school and planning a trip to Disney in two weeks, my blogging as been on the back burner. The last few days, as I have been trying to find a home for all the Santa booty, I have thought about this past year. 2006 held many firsts and many AH HA moments for me.
2006 was the year my youngest began school full time in kindergarten. It was exciting for her and a bit sad for me. Mind you, I have no baby envy or yearning for the younger years of my children or for more children. It is just that the time has gone by so fast, just as I have always heard that it would. I feel as if I can remember every day and minute since she and my son entered our lives. Since I would be hard pressed to tell you what I had for lunch yesterday, it amazes me that all the days of the months of the years of their lives still sits front and center in my mind.
2006 was the year I marched closer to 50 than 40. While so many seem to fight that progression or float down the river of Denial, I am actually loving this time in my life. I like who I am and where I am. I can accept what about me is average and normal while at the same time dance to my own beat, be different, be confident about myself , my opinions and how I am doing as a Mother and a wife. I can still sing all the lyrics from the songs of the 70's and 80's while at the same time sing along with James Blunt and 5 For Fighting. I can like CMT better than MTV and still prefer a good book over a great DVD. And I am very open about my love affair with my minivan or as I like to call it, my FUV (Family Utility Vehicle).
I accepted that no matter how much I diet or don't, exercise or not-I stay a solid size 10 and have not wavered from that in the last well, 10 years. I like to cook and I like to eat. My blood pressure medicine is a daily reminder that I need to put forth some effort in the name of health. Funny, once I decided that I would regularly go to the Y and exercise, not for a smaller waist or firmer thighs but for a stronger heart and less obstructed arterial system and to avoid a hip fracture in 20 years, I am much more diligent about going. And because I am not judging my progress by my advancement toward Skinny jeans but by the numbers on my blood pressure machine and my labs every 6 months,I feel very good about how I am doing and that is a much more motivating than string cheese, a rice cake and a bowl of lettuce. Besides, when necessary, squirming into a pair of Spanx is an instant 10 lbs. weight loss. Besides , my body has gotten me a lot of great places in life, keeps up with two very active children, stayed married for 25 years, done everything I have ever asked of it,kept breakdowns and tune ups to a minimum and is good for many more miles. What's not to be Proud of.
2006 was a good year. My daughter learned to read and she is writing in her journal and diary everyday. Still not sure what a 5 year old could possibly have so much to write about but she goes nowhere without her notebook and a pencil .Sometimes annoying and can perch on that last nerve . Which leads to one of my resolutions for 2007, more patience with her endless ENDLESS questions and HOW DO YOU SPELL...She has become a sponge for knowledge and I know my duty is to keep it soaked. My son has progressed very nicely and I am so proud of him. Everyday he does something to amaze and amuse me. He is such a joy and makes waking up each day an adventure. Today he said several 10 and 12 word sentences, which is grand way to end and begin a new year.He is also becoming a one man band after having received a trumpet, saxophone and clarinet for Christmas to go along with his many drums and keyboard. I am hoping for a Phil Collins and not a Tommy Lee.
We also started taking them camping this year. Tent camping. Just as I did as a child growing up.
I never imagined how wonderful this new activity would be for our family and for our children.
It's a lot of work, a lot of planning and has given us so much more in return. Time away from phones and TV and distractions. I hope that they remember these camping trips the same as I remember the ones from my childhood. The carrying on of traditions is one of the infinite rewards of parenting that I hope every parent does. Creating new traditions and passing down old ones. The definition of family to me.
This year has been a rough one in the Russian adoption arena.I so pray that this next year brings some calm in the process and many children finding homes. I hope that the families thinking about Russian adoption and those that may have been scared away come back and hear the words of encouragement from those of us that keep chanting for you to stay the course, it will all be so worth it.You might think it odd that I am still so involved in following the journey's of others to their children in Russia because my own adoptions are so far in the past. I believe having been through adoption twice, two very different adoptions of two very different children,that I can relate to so many who are on their own journey's now or contemplating it. I feel compelled to share our story, commiserate and encourage others and hope that I can share in their delight and magic of bringing a child home forever. This year I have had the privilege to share in the emotional, heartbreaking and rewarding journey of a couple who live hundreds of miles north of me, whom I have never seen or spoke to other than through the Internet, yet I have felt every tear, frustration, moments of despair they have been through as well as the elation, joy and magic of them meeting their new daughter. I have thought about them daily for months and shed my own tears when they so graciously sent pics to my email address from Moscow of their precious little "Cupcake". What they do not know is how their sharing of this most private and personal time in their life as opened up a line of communication with my own daughter about our adoption of her. By relating to her what they have gone through in their quest for their princess, my daughter now has a unique understanding about our journey to her and she is so excited about another little Russian angel finding her own Mommy and Daddy. No story book or esoteric conversation we might have had would equal or have the impact that sharing in the journey of another little girl waiting in Russia in real time has done for her.
So to them, I thank you. While it may have seemed that I was Paying it Forward in sharing my experiences, you are doing the same for my daughter.
Godspeed for your return to bring her home.
I feel the same about sharing my son's differently abled life with others. Parent's I will never know who share their lives of raising a child with PDD have helped me immensely. I have learned and embraced this year ,the concept of sharing and being open about your life, your struggles and times when you are at an emotional cliff, if you reach out and just talk there is always someone out there who can lift your spirits, recharge your determination and remind you of all the wonderfulness in your life and in your child. And when you hear that you have helped or inspired others it spurs you on to be better and go that extra mile each day. My son continues to be a huge inspiration. His imagination, his laughter and happy spirit, his love of the outdoors and any sport that involves a ball. He never ceases to amaze me in that he has always reached every goal we have set before him. As much as I am his teacher in life, he teaches me more everyday about the spirit and the potential in all of us and other lessons too numerous to count.And when the sun sets each day he is really just a regular 7 year old boy with dirty hands and scruffy knees who wants French Fries and ketchup and to play in the tub until the water gets cold.He tells me I love you Mommy and Good Night,Don't Let the Bed bugs bite.
And my daughter writes in her journal everyday "Today was the best day of my entire life" because every day is the best and that she loves me the Mostest and more than M & M's.
What are my New Year's Resolutions for 2007.
Not that many actually.
To be more patient at times,to say Yes, more and No, less.
To live in the moment, be fully present in the Now and not think so much about Tomorrow
To Exercise more, not necessarily eat less....
To Laugh loud and long and often
To schedule one on one outings with each of my children more often.
To Thank God each and Every day for everything in my life, the great and the good,the bad and the ugly.
Most all is great and good, a bad every now and then and ugly rarely rears it's head.
To look into my children's faces and marvel at the magic and miracle that brought these two children from thousands of miles away to be my son and my daughter and how perfectly we all fit together.
The Freeman Family of Four
Look out 2007
Here We Come

Christmas Miracles

So many Christmas happenings this last week.

First off I FINISHED my shopping,always a monumental moment. Santa was done months ago and I did a lot of it via the internet, then the extended family gifts and the always most important teacher's gifts and class presents(19 of the same thing for my son's class) and helping my Mom do her shopping. Mind you nothing is wrapped yet, but that's the easy part. Also the yearly Christmas Photo is signed ,sealed and mailed.It only took two days and about 75 shots but this time we actually got a lot of good ones and it was hard to choose. That in and of itself is a Christmas Miracle.

Also, this is the first time my differently abled son, has actually spontaneously ,unprompted and uncoerced said he wanted Santa to bring him something, as in " I want Santa to bring me a Trumpet" and you bet he will. For most parents they are inundated with their children wanting things and not being shy about voicing that and my daughter is no different. But my son has never really asked for anything holiday or birthday specific. Yes, he may ask for an Icee, or to go ride with the people(Escalator at the Mall) or go the the basketball gym(the YMCA).But this is the first time he seems to really get Santa and Christmas before the big day. He has always "gotten" the presents on Christmas morning. So another Christmas miracle for us.

Another recent joyous occasion was the acceptance of a referral of a daughter by an internet friend. I have never met her in person or even ever heard the sound of her voice. Yet through her blog and emails , we have connected on the adoption and awaiting parenthood level. I have followed, cheered, ached,cried and now rejoiced in her journey. Offering advice, which I am sure was hard to swallow at times, and Been there sentiments that I am sure she had trouble relating .When you are in the middle 0f your own journey, waiting for the call to travel, waiting to meet a referral and the heartbreak of having to refuse, you are sure that no one has ever gone through this before. No one could possibly understand.That your journey is harder, longer , more stressful and wrought with emotion than anyone's has ever been. One minute you are sure you will be the one in a million that will not work out, that you will return home empty hearted and destined never to be a Mom. And then in the literal blink of eye, all that changes. You see her, hold her ,feel her. Knowing in an instant that this is your daughter, the one you have waited an eternity for. The one you never lost faith in finding.Your tears are turned into laughter, your cracked heart is now beating full and strong and rapidly in love with this small person you have known for only minutes and loved for a lifetime.

Another Christmas miracle.

I am feeling very much in the Holiday Spirit this year in a non stressed and enjoying each moment kind of way.We have had a good year personally and professionally. My youngest started kindergarten and is thriving. My son is doing great , making good progress and is happy. My extended family is all still intact with no illness, deaths or other dire happenings. My sister got married and my niece started college and it is all she dreamed it would be.

It is easy to take all of this for granted and not stop and be Thankful for your blessings. I have found myself doing alot of that this past year. Maybe that added more to my restful spirit than I realize. It is such a simple thing, to take a second or two and send up a silent prayer of thanks for the small seemingly inconsequential things.There is a difference between being grateful and giving thanks and this year I have learned to differentiate between them. Giving Thanks is incredibly more satisfying to the soul.

I know my web friend is so grateful that her adoption journey has had a joyous finale.

I am Thankful that a beautfiul daughter has found her Mommy and Daddy.

I am endlessly Thankful for my two children and my husband.

Adoption and parenthood is filled with the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. It is hard to see the top of the mountain when you are down in the valley. Learning to be thankful for the ride up and down is the key.

As I bake Christmas cookies, enjoy our annual viewing of "Christmas Vacation" , wonder where I will put all the stuff they got after Christmas and start to think 3 weeks out of school for the holidays is a little much, I hope I remember to send up a little Thanks for each of those moments.

And if I can manage to still fit in those jeans in the New Year, that will be another Christmas miracle .

There's a Jingle in the Air.

I hope every one had a their fill of Turkey and family, tight pants and indigestion, big laughs and clenched teeth, leftovers, dirty dishes and drives home.
And most importantly a day with family,yours, his, others or just a small gathering of friends.
I hope each of us stopped for just a moment and said Thanks for the things we have or are hoping for and even thanks that we made it through some rough spots.
Now , on to the important stuff.
THE SHOPPING
Once home from my sister's and the dishes are done, pets feed and children and husband asleep, my favorite Thanksgiving tradition begins.
I make some hot tea, good black Russian tea.
I write out my list of those I need to buy gifts.
I begin my journey through the Black Friday Ads. Cutting coupons, noting Early Bird Specials and Doorbusters prices.
I gather coupons I received in the mail.
I then go to my computer and print out a legible and highly organized list.
Color coded and highlighted.
I go to bed a midnight, get up at 3am, leave my house at 3:30am, stop by the BP for a large cup of extra caffeine, extra sugar, extra creamer to go. I arrive at my niece(and great friend)'s house at 4am, she is ready and waiting and similarly armed.
The mall opens at 5am. We are parked and walking in at 4:40.
My adrenaline is pumping, palms sweaty , eyes sharpened for the hunt and body poised for the kill.
Our prey-Sony Handycam, NintendoDS, Disney Store before 10am HotDeals etc.etc.
My husband thinks I am crazy.Every year when I do this he thinks I am crazy
But to me it is more than the good deals. It is female bonding, no kids or husbands allowed.
This First Official Shopping Event is the Christmas Flare shooting off in the sky, giving me the go ahead to start Decking the Halls, singing the carols , decorating the tree and putting up outside lights.
It is the reading of the Christmas Story to my children and setting up the Nativity scene.
Polar Express at the IMAX and writing letters to Santa. The counting down of the Advent calendar and hanging our stockings we bought in Russia.
Oh and do not leave out.
The annual Christmas Photo for our cards.
The huffing and puffing, the knashing of the teeth, the kids crying and pouting and Dad remarking one too many times, "I am sure that one was good" or 'Is this worth it?" or "Why do we go through this every year" to "That's it just use one even if its bad"?
To which Mom(me) repeats, "Stand There, Not There, Hold This, Smile, Don't Smile too much,Be Still, Sit/No Stand ,Just Look at Me, That Didn't work, Not too Bad, Just One More,Just One More, Just One More..Now lets go Outside and get some.....
Thank God for Digital Camera's and the delete Button. I know you are saying why not just take them to a studio and get a Professional one made.
Family Tradition.
It started with my parents and their parents.
Then growing up my Dad did this each year with us or rather, to us. The pictures are sweet, funny and embarrassing now to look at and hold great memories.
So that is why I am now torturing my innocent family with this tradition.
Next Saturday is the day, I'll let you know how it goes.
I love this time of year and now that I am a parent,my children make it ever so much more magical.Seeing it through their eyes each year makes me feel like a starry eyed child again.
Believing in Santa and the miracle of Jesus birth. Melding the two together into a blessed and family event filled with love and laughter. Anticipation and Joy.
Wishes and lists, surprises and presents.
Silent Nights and Sleigh Bells.
Sugar Plums and Sugar Cookies.

I got home at 3pm, tired and sated, gas tank empty and shopping bags filled.

Mission accomplished. List checked off.

Christmas 2006 has officially begun for the Freeman Family of Four

This year Daddy Claus will be happy to hear that Santa is not bringing anything that needs to be assembled or battery operated.

Now if I can just untangle the lights for the tree.

Macy, 5 years old

Daughter, Sister, Grand-daughter, Cousin, Student, Friend

Princess

Artist, Writer, Ballerina,Swimmer,Debator,Master Block Builder

Diva

Funny, Mysterious, Sensitive, Thoughtful, Independant

Miracle

Tribute to my Daughter

Sunday was the 5 year Anniversary of the adoption of our daughter Macy. I remember every moment of the journey to her and every moment since. For me, she was a dream come true that I did not even know I had wished for. For years (20) my husband and I felt perfectly content not being parents. Then when we adopted our son we felt wonderfully sated as far as our parenting appetite went. We had not once pondered having more than one child and our son was the moon and stars for us and we honestly could not imagine another child competing for our love and attention. We felt blissfully this way for the 14 months after we brought him home.
Then one mid January morning in 2001, I woke up with the smallest flutter of a feeling in my heart. As the morning progressed, I realized that the flutter had pink wings, girly wings , the wings of a daughter. By noon I was eating a sandwich and crunching numbers on how this could work. I had become a stay at home Mom a mere 4 months before so we were still learning how to negotiate on one salary. The more I figured we just could not swing another $25,000 for an adoption, the more I knew I would have to find a way. Some might find it a little odd that because as far as we knew we could have biological children, I never entertained that option. Just like when we became parents the first time around. Russia was our womb.
Around 2pm, Riley and I meandered down to the mailbox. Along with a bill or two and the ever present magazine was an envelope from my former employer. The hospital where I had worked for 17 years. It was a letter informing me that I needed to decide what I wanted to do with my $35,000 403B account I still had with them. Did I want to roll it over into something else or transfer it to another financial institution. I would say that it is about 150 steps from the mailbox to my house. That is how long it took me to decide just where I would roll over that money. Right into a daughter. It still gives me chills to think about how the night before ,I went to bed feeling totally fulfilled and within 24 hours I was committed to bringing home a daughter and had the cash in hand to do it. Talk about a life changing moment. No way it was mere coincidence that all of this came together in one day. I walked into my house and called the financial office at the hospital. They told me that yes, I could take the money out in cash with a penalty.
Penalty, Smenalty. My $35,000-$5000 in taxes and penalty left me $30,000 cash. Cash this time for an adoption. Cash. Cash that my employer had invested 100% in. Sorta like Found money. Now mind you this was not the IRA I had invesested personally. I had others.
I can still hear that choir singing, those angels trumpeting.
Have I mentioned that my husband was at work totally unaware at all of the earth moving that was going on at home. I had virtually made him a father again and he had no clue. We had never, not once ever talked about adopting again.
By the time he got home I had mentally turned our guest room into our little girl's room, figured out the logistics of who would care for our 2 year old so while we were gone and had started trying out girl names.
Let me say now that my Husband is one amazing guy. Incredible Father.
He walked in kissed us both Hello.
I said I wanted to go back to Russia and adopt a baby girl and I wanted to use the money from my employer IRA to fund it.
He paused. Asked was I serious. I was.
He turned around, picked up the phone and called our agency.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Our daughter was born that same week, thousands of miles across the ocean in Shahkty Russia.
On 9/11/2001 we got the call to go meet her.
On Nov. 19, 2001 She became Macy Leanna Freeman
5 years and 2 days ago.
To a mother, a daughter is unique gift. Like all mothers, I love my children passionately and equally.
But she and I have a bond that goes much farther than any genetics could build, it is hormonal.
She is a mini-Me.
We both love fashion, love to read, LOVE to talk and Really LOVE to have an opinion on everything and don't mind tellin ya whether you want to hear it or not.
Friday night is girl night in her bed that involves chick flicks or DR.90210 telethons, buttery popcorn, Real Cokes and lots of giggles and heart to heart talks. We can spend forever deciding on just the right toenail polish or hair ornament or the best flip flop for the outfit. You can find us side by side on the swing, me writing in my journal , her in her diary.
She shares my passion for swimming, for the jaccuzi tub and Sour Gummy Worms.
She will compliment me on my jewelry, my shoes and my house cleaning skills.
She will also tell me when I need to spiff up my wardrobe, my hair or my bedroom.
We can have the deepest converstions about life and death,
souls and heaven ,
tummy babies and heart babies
and McDonald's versus Chick-Fil-E
My Son Lights up my life
My Daughter adds the Technicolor.
I can literally bring myself to tears when I imagine how close we came to not being the parents of two children. How easy it would have been that January morning to have attributed my yearning for a daughter to hormones, or winter blues or baby envy. If my husband, in his right mind, would have discouraged me , I probably would have let the flutterings die away.
Maybe it was the look in my eye or the yearnng in my voice.
Maybe he also heard that day , calling from afar, Daddy's Little Girl. A sister for his son.
A daughter for his wife. A mother for a daughter.
He had 2 sisters. He knew how close their relationship was with his mother.
He knew how close I was to mine.
He had seen how I had shared my sister's bond with my niece.
Talk about high expectations.
My daughter has surpassed all of them.
All day yesterday I watched her and thanked any and everything I could for the blessing of being her mother.
5 years has gone by in the blink of an eye.
When she spontaneously tells me how much she loves me, that I am the Greatest and Bestest Mom or that she is having the best day of her Life (she seems to have a lot of these) or gives me the biggest Hug and a hundred kisses,I think how could I have missed out on this.
I think of her birth mother and wonder how she did.
She couldn't have know how amazing and wonderful this daughter would become.
Or maybe she did know. And that is the greatest gift of all.
My daughter.
It still sends a chill down my spine and I feel those butterflies all over again.
Not just a fluttering. But a strong loud beating of my heart for this blond haired blue eyed child that was sent straight from heaven into my life.
I can not fathom what the next 5 years will bring.
A son and a daughter.
The Moon and the Stars and Heaven and Earth.
Happy Anniversary Macy, we've come along way Baby.

OK I'll Say It....MERRY CHRISTMAS

Yes, life has recently gotten in the way of my blog. 2 school field trips and my Mom was here visiting for 2 weeks while my step Dad was in Hawaii on an all guys golf extravaganza. It was so great to have my Mom here and so touched my heart watching her with my children. I think sometimes in our quest to become parents we tend to forget that in the process we are also making grandparents and how that is also a wondrous thing to behold. I feel so lucky that my children have 4 grandparents and that they are close to all of them. My parents and my husband's parents were so supportive, encouraging and excited about each of our adoptions and that certainly has overflowed into their relationship with them. From the first day we brought our children home, I never underestimated the value, meaning and importance of their bonding with our families. Part of my "It takes a village" philosophy.
In the past 7 years that I have been a mother, I could not have made it through without these people in my life lending a helping hand, an extra set of arms and advice, both taken and ignored. My niece, Maegan, who is now 19 and away at college was one person who has always been at the top of the heap in love, attention and encouragement for my children and myself. She was only 11 when we started our first adoption. I could not have imagined back then that such a young girl would become key in our parenting journey. She is probably (aside from ourselves) the best role model and positive influence my children have had, and I hope that I have often and profusely told her this.
All this brings me to my feelings about this time of year.
FAMILY
THE HOLIDAY SEASON
Before my children arrived at my hearth, I always loved the holidays. Maybe that is because my parents also loved the holidays and made a big production of them. We celebrated the same when I was 23 as when I was 3. Since we never lived near any of our relatives, we would faithfully make the 6 or 8 hour journey south to our grandparents house and celebrate the holiday with a houseful of cousins, Aunts and Uncles and a roomful of sleeping pallets on the living room floor at night. Bedtime was always preceeded by a contentious discussion about who would have to sleep on the end, the middle being the coveted spot. The two days of cooking for Thanksgiving and the traditions of Christmas Eve and waking to Santa Claus' bounty. For the 17 years I was married but not yet a parent, I thought I was still getting the most out of the season. I decorated for Halloween, Turkey Day and to the 9th degree for Christmas. Coordinating and handmade wrapping paper and delicate ornaments on our freshly cut tree. Orchestral and acoustical Christmas carols playing the background,mistletoe and Poinsetta's hanging and arranged on every surface. Nightly drives to look at Christmas lights after a festive and romantic dinner out.
We celebrate the same now.
Well sorta.
Halloween decor still abounds the month of October.
We still cook for two days for Thanksgiving.
I still have a wrapping paper theme, but it tends to be Snowmen, or Santa or Disney.
No tree ornaments will break no matter how many times it gets dropped or thrown, or bitten.
Our Christmas music is now "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" and 300 playings of Wayne Newton's "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" by our dancing Snowman.
I won't mention the carol singing Bass or the clock that plays a Christmas tune on the hour.
My mistletoe is silk and my poinsetta's are out of reach and(gasp) pink, since now my two little elves get a say so in the decorating choices.
We still have our annual night of driving around looking at Christmas nights. But now the meal is at Mickey D's or if I'm lucky TGIFridays. And usually about 30 minutes into the drive, an announcement is proclaimed from the back seat that "This is SOOOO Boringgggg!"
My closet under the stairs is already bursting with Santa's booty and I am itching to get my beautiful Martha Stewart artificial tree out of the attic. It will be glowing , not with the all white or all red lighting theme of back in the day. It is now merrily a celebration of every color and type of light that Target sells, because well, the old way was deemed boring.
As we move into this holiday season, I am once again feeling the blessings of my children. Once again Thanking God that I dreamed and held fast not once, but twice through the long and crooked road of Russian adoption. My children just make everything sweeter and give me reason to indulge my inner child. To relive my wonderful childhood memories. To carry on traditions and make new ones of our own.
I heard this morning on the news that "Christmas" was back.
The word, not the Holiday.
Funny, I missed the memo that it had ever left.

The Art of the Bribe

This morning my usually easy going and school loving son was having nothing to do with going to school. He'd had good night's sleep, was not sick and had woken up easily and in a good mood. But the moment I mentioned getting dressed for school, the proverbial All Hell Broke Loose. He may on occasion fuss for a few minutes but the lure of riding the school bus is usually enough to get him in the mood. But today even that proved fruitless. He went to the bathroom (while crying), got dressed (while crying), got his backpack (while crying) and preceded to the garage (while crying).He repeated to me "I am not going any where" , "I am going back to sleep", " I am staying home" about 200 times. When I would occasionally interject a calming word, he responded with a "Be quiet" or "Shut UP" which I am ever so proud of. He has gone from one word caveman talk to some good sentences, expressing himself clearly and yes now, verbal disobedience. In many ways I am happy to hear this from him, but at 7:30 am,47 degrees and raining in my driveway wearing my pj's and a raincoat while my neighbor's next door are loading up their kids and hearing this exchange, not so proud.
He refused to leave the sanctity of the chair beside my minivan. While I patiently did my impression of Fred Astaire's Singing in the Rain Song and Dance, complete with umbrella. In the driveway, in my pajamas,47degrees-did I mention that. Ummm, this was not working. I calming put on my thinking cap. What could entice him onto the bus willingly.
Oh yeah, a bribe..... An airplane bribe.
My son LOVES airplanes.All kinds-airplanes to ride on, airplanes to watch fly overhead, airplane video games ,airplane toys and most of all paper,balsa or foam airplanes to fly indoors and out, to the roof of the house and to tie to the fan with some string. And didn't I just receive Wed. a big box of stuff from Oriental Trading that is still sitting in my foyer. Didn't that same box contain 5 different kind of airplanes-Styrofoam ones, balsa ones, cardboard ones and foam ones. Jets, biplanes, bird planes of every shape and color.
192 to be exact. For the low low price of about $30.
So the seduction begins. Enter stage right the voice of the Temptress.
"Riley, If you get on Ms.Baker's bus you can fly an airplane when you get home" His eyes lock on me.
"Riley, After school Mommy will have you some new airplanes to fly, OK? " OK, he answers warily.
"Riley, You want to play with some airplanes and tie them to the fan after you get home?" He stands up.
This incentive proves impossible to resist.
I walk over to him and he gives me a high five on the planes. I suggest he get his umbrella and join me on the driveway to wait for the bus and talk about the planes. He does.
We talk about what color he may want, how many and what we will do with them.
He has clearly taken the bait.
Hook, Line and Sinker. I have reeled him in.
He has no idea what just happened.
Bus arrives, he puts on his backpack and happily climbs about. Blotchy face and all.
The end justifies the means.
Victory.
Yeah,Yeah I have read all the parenting no no's about using bribes to get your children to cooperate.The intrinsic negatives of the dangling of the carrot to get them to do what you want. That they should learn to do what we ask purely for the face value of being an obedient child.
Horse Feathers and Bull Hockey.
Don't we as adults work on a system of self induced the forbidden fruit, the golden apple , the lobbying of ourselves to do this in return for that.
You work for the paycheck, you do 100 situps for that one chocolate chip cookie, you do housework today so you can go out to lunch and shop tomorrow. You encourage your hubby to go play golf, knowing next weekend your scrapbooking crop is scheduled.
Tit for Tat.
The old bait and switch has prompted many successful undertakings in my house.
Riding the Big Yellow Cheese Wagon excited my son about school.
Princess Panties lured my daughter out of diapers.
Hello Kitty sippy cup off of her bottle.
She traded her pacifier for a Cinderella DVD.
Two weeks worth of items from Dollar Tree hidden under her pillow in the dead of night from the
Sand Man for staying in her own bed, was well worth the sleep we are all getting now.
She will do just about anything for a Hershey Kiss or a Tootsie Roll
A swim in the jacuzzi or trip to the zoo or Children's science center has gotten my son to practice spelling
words all week, work in his handwriting or just be generally cooperative.
And I would never want to add the times that I have dangled a trip to the park, the YMCA, Chic Filet or MickeyD's has factored into the equation.
Without a doubt parenting requires love, guidance, patience, strength, continuity and courage of conviction
It also takes a dash ingenuity and imagination and quick thinking
some charm, coaxing ,luring, enticement,temptation and seduction
and a stash of goods, bribes, bait, awards, surprises,lures, decoys. And Airplanes.
You must perfect the art of tantalizing them into changing their mind, their mood, their emotions at times.
Never underestimate the power of being able to grease the palm , bait the hook or put the carrot on the stick.
Use it sparingly, wisely and without them being the wiser.
I have those 5 airplanes assembled and waiting on the kitchen bar for him.
He's happy , I'm happy.
Mission Accomplished.
Tomorrow will provide an opportunity for those other parenting skills of a higher calling
But today, I needed to have a trick up my sleeve.
Mothering, Tricky Business.

My Momness

This weekend my daughter and I were watching the movie "Cheaper by the Dozen-Part 2". She is my movie partner. Each Friday or Saturday night we pile up in her bed with some popcorn and watch a movie.We call it our Girls Only slumber party. She loves movies as much as I do. Even if it is not a "kids" movie, she will watch it with me. While we are very strict about anything even remotely related to violence or obvious sexual content, other subject matter I let her watch. It has given us the opportunity to talk about a lot of subjects that do not normally come up in conversation. When we watched "The Notebook", we discussed being married for a long time, growing old together and love staying strong even if one person changes. Also we touched on Alzhiemer's. Deep subjects for a 5 year old but she is an old soul. I am so thrilled that she shares my love of the silver screen, as opposed to my husband. The joke is he never saw a movie he couldn't sleep through. Anyway, at the end of the movie, the oldest daughter gives birth to the first grandchild and thanks her parents for teaching her that there is
"No way to be a Perfect Parent, but hundreds of ways to be a really Good one.
That one line really stuck with me.
What ways am I a really Good One?
Before we adopted our son, I read everything I could about attachment, health, milestones, developmental delays, post institutional effects, feeding, sleeping and bowel habits. You have your game plan in place. Then your child arrives and you throw about half of what you have learned out the window. And lo and behold, your child thrives anyway. Throughout the last 7 years that I have been a Mom, I find that as parents, you are constantly bombarded with do's and don'ts from real and so called experts ,TV, print and other parents. This will cause even the most self confident Mom, second guess herself at times. But I think I have finally become comfortable in my momness. My kids are happy, healthy, compassionate and kind. They work hard and play hard. What more could I ask for. I must be getting some of it right.
I have also realized the importance of creating or embracing our own family quirks and traditions. It is what makes us The Freeman Family of Four (FFOF),which is how we refer to ourselves. I have come to the conclusion that I do not want to be totally like any other Mom. That;s fun of being Mom. You are allowed to make some of it up as go.
I bought myself a silver Hermit Crab charm.
I am not a jewelry person in the least. If it doesn't have some kind of meaning , than I rather not bother.The 7 rings I wear daily might seem to tell another story but not really. I wear my wedding and engagement ring, both of my grandmothers wedding bands and a sapphire(my birthstone) ring from my husband on my left hand. On my right, I wear two rings that are my children's birthstones (ruby and amethyst) and my father's high school graduation ring. He passed away 14 years ago and it is my most prized piece of jewelry.He was truly a role model of the type of parent I want to be. My mom too. They gave me great memories unique to us, traditions passed down, and hilarious happenings that only my brother , sister and I could ever understand. I grew up surrounded by love, devotion and family loyalty.We might not have been raised,by the book, we wrote our own. We are all successful, happily married and raising children of our own. What more could you wish for your children.They must have done something right.
So why a hermit crab as my own personal symbol of being a Mom.
Let me explain.
We went to the beach for an end of the summer last hooray. My kids have inherited our love of the beach and ocean, or anything that involves water. My daughter loves to collect beach treasures. This trip she pulled out of the ocean a shell that was the home of a hermit crab. Which of course she insisted on keeping in the bucket of shells and some water. Three days later when we arrived home, that little crab was still alive. So that led to a trip to the local Petsmart and collecting all the items for a Hermit Crab home. We dug out an old glass aquarium we have and filled it with sand, a coconut house, water dish, food dish, driftwood to climb on and extra shells in case he wanted to move into new one. Oh yeah, and another Hermit crab because according to the Hermit Crab Care Book, they don't like to live alone. And a thermometer and humidity gauge. You see they also like the temp to be between 72 and 85 and the humidity between 70-90%.They ate special hermit food and also apples, peanut butter, crackers and a host of fresh foods. Yes, I am the resident crab specialist. And of course, about a week later,Crab #1 dies. Followed by a trip back to the pet store to purchase another hermit crab. These two have lived happily for the past 2 months. Of course the interest in them for my daughter as waned. While I am still diligently checking the temp and humid levels several times a day, replacing water and food daily and cleaning out the cage. And putting them in the kitchen sink for a little exercise and a chat. This is the essence of being a Mom, proof that as a mother there is no end to what I will do for them. No task too great or too small. I will be as devoted to a pet they love as I am to them. My love and care of these two crabs is an extension of my love and care for them.Even if the big one loves to pinch me with his big claw. Even if it really hurts. And even if my daughter thinks it is so funny we he does this and I scream.
So everytime I wear this charm , it is my Medal of Honor, my Purple Heart, my Heart on my Sleeve (or neck).My little Mom Award to myself. Or maybe it just reminds me it's all the little things that add up the most.
It will make no sense to anyone but the FFOF.
These are the things that until you become a parent , you just don't get. A part of parenting that you would miss out on. Not just taking care of your family, but taking care everything that defines your family. Daily, I feed 16 mouths. Me, my husband and my two children. Two hermit crabs, a cat and a dog. Six rather huge goldfish and two plecos. I love it. How boring when I only had to feed four, Husband and I and dog and cat.
And since some eat more than once a day, I actually am in charge of 31 meals a day. 31 chances to be a good Mom. 31 chances to love.
A few of the hundreds of ways I am a good parent. Not perfect, not always right. I make mistakes.
But each minute of each day, I have the chance to be a good Mom. A chance to redeem myself sometimes.
I hope my two think, the Best Mom.
I want to be a One of a kind Mom.
They are One of a Kind Children.
We share a One of A Kind Love.
I have the Hermit Crabs to Prove It.

A Moment on the Soap Box

I do not usually comment here on current events, but I feel the need to vent. Madonna, this week, adopted a young boy from Africa, Malawi, I believe. Not a place I have ever heard of, but one of the poorest countries on the planet. Over a million orphan children, most die in childhood from Malaria, most orphaned due to early death of a parent and extreme poverty. A country, that up until now, has been very hesitant to allow any foreign adoptions, has a law in place that you must live there for a year prior to an adoption. This requirement makes adoption pretty much unheard of.
Enter Madonna, she has decided to not only provide millions of dollars to help the orphan situation there, but she has also adopted a one year old boy. A child, whose mother died while giving birth to him and whose two older siblings died young from malaria. His father is destitute and placed the child in the orphanage shortly after birth because he could not care for him or foresee ever being able to. Madonna, after perusing several children, like a lot of adoptive parents do in one way or another, chose to adopt him, with the consent of his father. A chance for survival, a future and a life with the endless possibilities of success.
Good for the father, Good for the child, Good for Madonna and Guy.
What is the problem.
Another orphan child who had no future now has a loving family, food, care , support and a chance.
To read the adoption boards this week , you would think that Madonna is a deviant with an extensive criminal background. That she snuck into Africa in the dead of night, greased a few palms and stole this child from the cradle in his family home,never to be seen or heard from again.
I mean really. Get a Grip!
This child will be followed, photographed and become an African adoption poster child right up there next to Angelina's African daughter. Probably for at least the next, say 30 years.
On the one hand we have poverty, little food, probable death from preventable medical condition or
we have family, love, care, plenty of food , education,financial security and life.
What a choice, hmmmm, let's see, what would be in the best interest for this little boy.........
This Human Rights group that wants him returned to his former plight...Well, I wouldn't want them advocating for me or my children, would you?
Many seem caught up on the presence of the father. Most children adopted now in the US have bio parents alive and well and who consented to the adoption. Open adoption even keeps them in the picture.
As far as I know the bio parents of both of my children adopted from Russia are living and consented to my adoption of them. Or at least placed them willingly at birth in the orphanage system.
Our adoptions aren't so different than Madonna's.
Except that she has done and will do much more for the children left behind than any one of us can or will do for the children left behind in Russia.
She has the money, clout and celebrity to actually make a difference in the lives of children other than the one she adopted.
Would it make me mad if she was able to adopt faster than I had. No, because a year from now that little boy may have been dead. That is his reality. Maybe it will prompt other nations to make exceptions to the time frame rule in their own countries. How great would that be.
Reading between the lines of posts that are screaming out against her adoption just sound like sour grapes to me. I agree that waiting to adopt a child from a foreign country takes more time than it should, tests the patience and endurance of families, stretches finances and emotions and even deters many from the pursuit.
But while we are waiting and whining here in our heated and air conditioned homes, with plenty to eat, plenty to do and knowing it will eventually culminate in success and a child,
our child, a child, many children
are starving, sick, suffering unimaginable conditions and irrevocable damage while waiting also.
Children from all over the World,
some places that make the orphanages of Russia look like luxurious palaces.
Places where adoption is unheard of, never heard of and will never happen.
Places the world has never heard of.
Places like Malawi.
A poor African country where a famous face went, helped and made one of them her own.
She made the world aware of this place, it's plight and it's children.
A father now knows his child has the one in a million chance at life.
Literally one in a million.
Actually one in ten million in Africa
So before we selfishly make insulting remarks about this woman, this adoption and this process.
Let's remember why we become parents and why we adopt.

Not for the process,
but for the children.
And in the end we realize that we, ourselves get the most out of it.
A chance to love,
to watch a child grow and blossom
to see the future in their eyes and in their laughter.
Now David Richey, will get the chance to grow and laugh.
And he will be watched.

CONGRATULATIONS MADONNA AND GUY, IT'S A BOY

L'Oreal, Love handles, and laughter

So when did my tan start looking like an advertisement for Oreo’s? This morning while I was standing in the mirror unclothed while I was color enhancing my hair, I realized that my summer tan made me want an Oreo. That was because while from the chest and arms up and from my hips down I was a nice healthy tan, but my middle section looked scarily like the white middle of a double stuff. When did this happen? I still own two piece bathing suits, I see them in my drawer. I tried one on, it still fits, so it could not have been than long ago. Mmmmmm, I sigh.I could spray tan or fake and bake, but honestly , just not interested.
I then take a look around my closet the shoe area, A few with heels, some clogs but I realize that my last three shoe purchases fall comfortably in the ,well, comfort zone. Hey, but flats are in this season so I am covered there, the third pair are ….Crocs.
I Know, I Know, so ugly. How did they get on my feet, right now as I am typing even.
When crocs starting becoming popular last year, I thought, those are just the rubber clogs we have been in operating room for years. No one would dare venture out in public in them. But here they were ,everywhere. At sporting good stores and even Hallmark. That was some sales pitch whammy they put on Hallmark. My nieces arrived at ballet class with my daughter one day sorting Neon Pink and Neon Yellow. Rather Nauseating. I was so happy to hear my daughter announce after seeing them, they are so ugly and look like boy shoes. Whew, dodged that one.
Then my husband, who prides himself in not following tends and fads, casually tried some on at the big Sporting Goods store this summer, kinda like a joke, Well, the joke was on me. Next thing I know he is at the cashier buying a Khaki pair, XL. And proceeds to put them on and wear them the rest of the day. Ok, he just turned 50 , maybe this is his little midlife crisis statement-CROCS.
Now the trouble starts. He tells me that he wants me to find a pair for our son, for the summer and beach trip. My daughter hear this and now she must have some too. What is this, a conspiracy. So , being the good wife and mother that I am , I find the Croc website on line. Or Croc Heaven I should say. Every style in 18 colors. Yes, go to crocs.com and see for yourself. Croc Sandals, various clogs, slip ones, thongs and Mary Jane’s.
I add to my shopping cart a nice baby blue pair for my princess and a tan pair for the little prince. Ready to Checkout. Not so fast. Well, were are going camping in a few weeks…..and I refuse to stand barefoot on the floor of the public showers we will have to use……and they are rubbery and easy to clean…….and, what the hell, so I order myself I nice little sandal type pair. You know for the beach, camping, pool.
That’s how it starts , First you wear them as athletic equipment and soon you decided they do match my khaki shorts, Hey, I am just running to Wal-Mart and before I knew it I was a crocaholic. Finally comfort meets trendy, not sure if fashion is in play here or not. I just found out that in November they are coming out with Disney Crocs, with cute little Mickey head cutouts. Yes, I have preordered some for my princess, pink this time.
The final chapter of the Croc Attack is my Step Father, a 68 year old School Superintendent who never even owned a pair of jeans or tennis shoes until he met my Mom 9 years ago. I saw him eyeing my husband’s crocs and saying that they must be comfortable if Billy is wearing them, to which my husband agreed that was the only reason he would. So for his birthday, I ordered him a pair. Now, that is all he is wearing now. He is the hippest Grandpa on the block. And just the other day I noticed my Mother in Law sporting a pair on her 78 year old feet. Comfort beats out ugly every time. There is a certain exhaling of the soul when you embrace and accept that stage in life.
Every magazine I read has volumes dedicated to looking younger, being younger, what’s in, what’s out, they want to do the thinking for you. I even saw a print add recently in a parenting magazine with the caption
” She doesn’t Look like a Mom,Does she?” WHAT…
What does a Mom look Like???
This woman looked in her thirties, she wasn’t dressed like a stripper. She had on a cute little knee length skirt, simple top, long neat straight blond hair and round toe low heels. Smiling and Holding a toddler.
I didn’t get it.
What is their idea of a Mom who looks like a Mom?
A chubby unfit, bare faced woman of unidentifiable age, uncombed hair, bedroom slippers, stretch pants and a multi colored polyester shirt with a baby wipe stuck to her butt.
The great thing about being a Mom these days is that we come in all shapes and sized and ages and personality.
We can be 26 or 46 with a toddler or a teenager.
We can be Vegan, Organic or Menu Divas. Homeschoolers or Corporate Raiders. Botox or Youth out of a Box
Single, Married, Significant Other, Two Moms, Two Dads.
Raising Bio, Donor, or Adopted children.
You can be sucked, plucked and Tucked
Or jiggly, giggly and proud.
One reason why I am feel so good about being a 46 year old woman raising two young children with a 50 year old husband is that we have learned to not only love ourselves and this time in our life but we are happy with who we are and content with the choices we make.
We can laugh at ourselves, we are proud of our wrinkles and few gray hairs. We have earned every one of them. I have been the style monger fashionista who followed the trends with the best of them. I now have the confidence to like what I like and to ignore what I don’t, regardless of mass appeal and what the Stars are wearing.
I am me, that is who my husbands loves and my kids adore. I feel pretty damn good when I look in the mirror. Oreo stomach and all. My neck is still wrinkle free, I have worn the same size 9/10 for the last 8 years .I was recently carded at the liquor store.
Life is Good!
I can equalize comfort with style and clean up pretty good.
I love my Minivan and my Maxi life.
I adore my kids.
My daughter’s non stop commentary on the world and my son’s sensory issues and odd language makes him King of the world to me.
In our little kingdom there are only a few rules.
Laugh a lot and often at yourself
Love who you are, no matter who you are
Be your own trendsetter and style maven
And even if its ugly, if you like it, it becomes beautiful
Middle age, is that what this is.
I call it the Decade of Enlightenment.
Free to be Me.
Now, excuse me while I go wash the L’Oreal Preference Light Beige Blonde #9 1/2 B out of my hair.
It is the age of enlightenment after all.

At the Zoo,October 2006

The Moral Compass

I had an AH HAH! moment on Sunday. It was a beautiful fall day, low 70s and a slight breeze, blue sky and no clouds. A rare fall day for early October in the South. We could easily still be wearing shorts at Thanksgiving. Or stubbornly donning our new fall clothes while we sweat over the Turkey and have the AC on high. We decided to take the kids to the Zoo. We have a family membership and go often. But our favorite time is on cool or cold days. The animals are much more active on those days. The first stop is always the Reptile Building. Snakes, Lizards and Turtles. The Giant Gila monster died some time back from an infected retained egg (I know TMI) and they have replaced it with some huge Galapagus tortoises and some other smaller (yet pretty big) species of turtle. We were watching them when we noticed that one turtle was on his back and trying very hard to turn himself over. To no avail. This struggle captivated my two kids. After a few minutes they realized that this turtle could not right himself on his own. They started to become quite concerned about this. By now several other families, and quite a few children joined us at the glass to cheer on this upside down friend. We are all becoming as distressed as the little guy himself was and we are collectively absorbed in his dilema. We notice one of the Giant turtles is making his way towards him. Is he coming to help we wonder out loud? Then we all watch horrified as he actually walks over the upside down one. This was pretty tramatic to watch. But our little under dog is OK. He soon tires and just sorta lays there, arms (are they called arms?) and legs outstretched , head nearly reaching the ground. I hear my daughter and a few other children cry out in a panic, Is he Dead? No, I reassure her , he is just resting.y son is visably upset. A Dad and his son quickly dart off to find a Zookeeper in the building, while the rest of us viligently stand watch. In a few minutes a reptile worker opens the door into the encloser, surveyed the scene and righted the little guy. All to Cheers from the gallery. After we all see that he is OK and back on his merry way, we move on to the next exhibit.
I was a little misty eyed at the compassion and concern everyone had for this small turtle and minor incident. Not a single person had walked on by. We were a diverse group that had gathered at the enclosure, all ages and ethnicity and socio economic levels. Yet we had all banded together instantly over this small inconsequential drama. Not one of the about 20 people that stood watch had left before the victorious ending. I was especially proud to see that my son, who at times is oblivious to certain social endeavors or emotions was just as concerned with the welfare of the little turtle.He totally got what was happening. And equally excited at the happy ending. Through the glass he told the zoo worker "Thank You for Helping" .
This short, 10 minute's out of my day did two things.
First, it restored some faith in my fellow human beings. In this day of Road Rage and the Me generation, it felt good to come together for a cause, even one such as an upside down turtle.
Second, I realized the really important things that I hope I am teaching my children.
There is a book by William Bennett, called "The Moral Compass" . I think every family should own one. It is a collection of stories from all walks of life and through out generations that teach a moral, a lesson, a virtue. My daughter loves for me to read one of them and then have a deep discussion about what it taught us.
The premise of the author is that the most important lessons we can teach our children and the most important ones for us to live by are these
Self-Discipline
Compassion
Responsibility
Friendship
Work
Courage
Perserverance
Honesty
Loyalty
Faith
In life's journey these character traits make the journey worth the trip.
If I can teach my children these things ,then they can make their way when they venture oout on their own. It will color how they see the world around them, help them make choices and live life well.
While Reading and Math, Science and Social Studies are certainly important and necessary, I think it is these other skills that truly make you a success. I see so many parents putting gargantuan time and energy into teaching their children to be first or be the best. Blue Ribbons, Trophy's, points scored and Winning teams seem to be top priority. You can always hear the parents lobbying for their kid to be the pitcher or first baseman, rarely bragging that their son is the best outfielder. It may happen but rarely.
Flash Cards for Toddlers, Class ranking on tests, giving your child the edge or the upper hand or the advantage.
The pressure for perfection and being the Leader of the Pack.
And not accepting anything less. That second place is nothing and to not be in the race is unacceptable.
I hear Mom's bragging about Home Runs , Gifted Classes and Beauty Pagents and not so much about thier offspring taking the time to lend a helping hand or offer charity to help a less fortunate or showing Thankfulness for a good deed done towards themselves.
Having a Special Child does force you sometimes to look for areas your child can and does excel in. For my son it will never be Reading or Math.And while he is very gifted athletically, the finer points of team play, the yelling or make that cheering bothers him, and this may prevent him from public or organized venues to show off his skills.I feel lucky in being his mother because he has helped us as a family put stock in other virtues. And I was reminded of the importance of that at the zoo and proud that it seems my two are reaping what I am trying to sow.
It has bothered me that sometimes I do not see the nurturing of the spirit and the soul in homes as much as the drilling of the information into the mind and skills into the body.
Survival of the fittest has taken on a whole new meaning, starting in the cradle.
Life can and will be hard and rough at times.
You may not always get the job or be picked.
Joy can be felt from cheering another on or letting someone else go first or take your place.
Adversity is a part of everyone's life at some point and learning grace and courage in the face of hardships can make all the difference in your life. Or in someone else.
Like all parent's, I welcome a straight A report card or a successful endeavor, but to see my child go out of their way for another, to take action for the sake of someone else, rates slightly higher.
My daughter , at age 5 is naturally competitive in spirit. Be it spelling the most words, reading the hardest book or being in the front at dance class.We gleefully cheer her on, but I hope her good self esteem comes equally from her own pride within when she attains her goals rather than from outside That A Girls or Public Pats on the Back.
And just like spelling or Multiplication tables, compassion takes practice.
As an adoptive parent, I felt a particular responsibility in providing opportunity and the best possible future for my children. To be the best parent I possible can. I think that is what their birthparents hoped for them. To have the love of a family and the chance to be the best they can be.The guidance and support unconditionally from their parents and siblings. I feel that they are such a precious gift and in accepting that gift I feel I made a promise to help them find the answers to questions like
Who am I?
Why am I here?
What should I be doing?
What is my Destiny?
What does it all mean?
They give me more than I could ever give back to them and
they teach me daily lessons about life and love and living.
And that living Happily Ever After can mean many things.
I hope I can guide them on their way to finding it.
And maybe, they will help someone else find theirs along the way too.
Even a Turtle.

You've Got A Friend

You Are Understanding
Maybe you never realized how important it is to have a truly understanding friend until you had a child with special needs, and found so many friends to be unable to reach out and give you the support you needed. Whether they couldn't deal with your changed circumstances,
sympathize with your problems,
keep from hurtful judging, or invite your child to associate with theirs,
some of the people who were once important in your life may have fallen away because at the very deepest level,
they were unable to understand.
It's made you value those who are always there for you,
unconditionally, without agenda.
And it's helped you to be a much more understanding parent, family member and friend yourself.

Today was a really great day. I spent it with two of my best friends, one in person and one in spirit. Let me explain. I spent the first part of my day with my oldest friend,Terri. A few yard sales, some lunch a trip to Walmart. A lot of laughs. We became friends in 6th grade, that was 34 years ago for anyone that is counting.Since we teamed up at age 12, we have been through every monumental event that most all girls and women go through. First dates, first loves, first jobs,first drink and first smoke. Our first vacation without our parents after graduation and more mistakes, things we want to forget and lots of I told you so's through the years. Ok, Decades. Marriages, one and only one for me and 3 for her. 2 divorces also for her. The births of her 3 children and the adoptions of my two. Deaths of a parent.We have gone through times where we were inseparable and months of being out of touch. Her children are now 13, 23 and 25 and she has a 4 year old granddaughter. My two are 5 and 7. Our worlds did spin in different directions at times but nothing could break or weaken our bond. We laugh that our mid life crisis was me buying a minivan at the same time she was buying a convertible. I can count on one hand my best friends.As a group they fulfill all my needs as a circle of confidants, and support and comrades. My Mom, my sister, my niece by marriage, Terri and the other friend I spent some time with via long distance today, Christine.
Each afternoon, I get my mail and sit on the bench we placed near the street in our yard and wait on my son's bus to arrive and then my daughter's. I sit and read my mail and wonder what kind of day my children had. Really, what kind of day my son had, my daughter seems to always have a good day.This afternoon I was so happy,estatic really, to get a letter from my other best friend. She lives in New Jersey and although our friendship is newer when compared to the others, it is probably the most important in many ways. She is a Portuguese New Jersey native and I am a born and raised southern belle. At first impressions, we couldn't be more different. Below the surface , we are twin daughter's of different mothers, souls leading parallel lives.
We get each other's lives like no one else. I absolutely could not imagine my journey as an adoptive mother and as a mother of a special child without her. Like me, she built her family through adoption. We met in Russia during our first adoptions. We lived together, in close quarters(the compound) for two weeks in a foreign country becoming first time parents in a way none of our other friends ever had. Our friendship was cemented in a moment of our lives that only we can understand. We each adopted infant sons close in age and each have had some issues to overcome. With her I can laugh, cry and be honest in a way that I can't with any other mother I know. Together we had to rearrange certain dreams we had and build new ones.I could totally get her son's need for a pink balloon and she get's my son's need to have his fingers on alert close to his ears at all times. We send odd pictures of our kids to each other and write funny captions on the back that no one else would catch the humor in. As much a I believe that God arranged the steps to our children, I also feel in my heart he also crossed our paths and linked us together. She is as true a gift and blessing of adoption as my children were. I hope that she knows how very much she means to me.Her husband too. He is so much like my husband in nature and thought and how he feels as a father and how he loves being a father through adoption and that forges our bond even more. I am not sure if it was fate or more of God's handiwork that we both adopted a second time from Russia around the same time. She another little boy and us, a daughter. And the two second children rocked both of our worlds in ways we had never dreamed. They were as different than there older sibling as they could be, and her Sean and my Macy are amazingly alike in personality. This made very clear when met at the beach for a week long vacation.Another link in our friendship chain forged by each of us being mothers of second children for which everything came so easily and quickly as compared to our first sons. Just a few months ago they welcomed a baby girl from China into their family and we anxiously awaited each and every step with them from a far for the 18 months it took for this adoption journey to be completed. And I am impatiently awaiting for my first chance to see her in the flesh. She is the cutest thing. I look forward in the years to come ,us sharing the journey of raising daughters, which is a whole nother ballgame.
Having this one friend in my life and knowing she will be there for the rest of my life is priceless and makes my journey as a mother feel much more enriched and even easier.
I have never been one to think I needed an entourage in my life. If you have one, then that is great.I have never needed a posse or travel in a pack. I havenever had the time to sustain that many at once. I would rather devote more quantity and quality to a few. Having a small number of very close friends is more important and special to me than 20 sorta close ones. Maybe that is why with my children that I put more effort into nurturing individual friendships for them rather than the big team , attend every party and every activity mindset. I don't count how many party invites they get(too many as it is ) or think they need tobe entertained by a plethera of extracurricular's. I think its great that my two spenda lot of time playing together and mostly surround by family.
I hope that they willlook back on their childhoods and have had many varied and fun experiences, family momentss too numerous to count and have built a few very close and long term friendships. I hope as adults they each have at least one friend still in their circle with whom they can reminisce about "back in the day" and another friend that shares current common interests, goals and priorities. Of course I hope that they are also as blessed as I have been in finding a mate, if your as lucky as me, that is your number one fan and best friend. I just realized that this is also something I have in common with my closest peeps. We are all in marriages with spouses who are are soul mates and our best confidants and who encourage our closeness with each other.
A lot of adoptive parents find themselves to suddenly not having a close friend who understands and gets adoption and all that it entails. They may not understand why you are doing it, who you chose it and how you can feel like no parent on earth could ever have loved a child more than you love this one born of your heart and your soul and not your body. They may not get the concerns and parenting needs of a newly adopted child or our seemingly obsessiveness at times to get it right. Or how we are always on the lookout for some adoptive issue or residual something or other to surface.
You will need that person.
We are out there, find us.
Support groups, web groups, message boards, a friend of a friend.
It will be a gift you give yourself and your child.
We all need at least one solitary person who gets your past but more important , you need one somebody that gets your present and hopefully they will also get your future.
And you will be that someone for them.
Because when you find understanding and compassion in someone else, then those qualities begin to flourish in yourself.
I hope for Christine... and Terri and Kerrie and Beth that I also rise to the occasion for them.
I hope for all Moms, that they are not going through this journey alone,
Whether you find that ear and shoulder in a childhood friend,
or in a newer ally.
Or in an alter ego connection through cyber space.
Reach out.
Someone will be there.
No man, or woman is an island.
Or should be. And it doesn't have to be a village, just one person that you can reveal your deepest thoughts, unfounded fears, future expectations and humorous insights and even mundane observations.
Not just someone who hears you, but someone who really listens.
When you do , then nurture that friendship, make time for it, feed and water it.
It helps me be a better mom , a better wife, a better woman.
A happier and more content member of the Human Race.
and remember You can tell a lot about a person by how they handle a
rainy holiday
lost luggage
and a flat tire.
And to get the full value of joy,
you must have somebody to divide it with.
And when me soul is having a rainy day, just a note from Chris or hearing her voice on the phone can
lighten my load and make the sunshine all week.
Gives new meaning to Fair Weather Friend.

MONDAY MONDAY

I remember when I was a career woman that I hated Mondays.
End of the weekend, beginning of another work week.
After three nights of staying up late and sleeping in late, it was a shock to the system to hear the alarm ring at 5:15am for a 6:45 work arrival. It took until about Wed. to get back in the groove, by Friday hit your stride and then the WEEKEND and start all over. And so it went for about 20 years. Since I have almost always worked at the hospital my day started at 7am and ended at 3pm. Unless I was on surgery call and then it never really ended.
Fast Forward to the present.
MONDAY-October 2006-Yippee
I love Mondays. Kids at school , husband at work. House quiet, no TV.
Never in a million years did I picture myself as a mother of two, much less a Stay at Home Mom.
It is a best kept secret. I am totally unapologetic that I love this stage of my life. I love that this morning I was excited to be able to dedicate my day to laundry and being able to get all of it done at one whack. Then maybe a little rearrange of some kitchen cabinets. If I am feeling really productive I may try and tackle my closet and start switching out some summer clothes for fall. Here in the south, summer is never really over and winter never really begins but a few changes must take place for my inner fashionista to survive.
For me now, Mondays represents ,dare I say it, Freedom. For a few hours anyway. Some me time, some Honey do list time. This is the first school year that both of mine have been in school all week. I am just barely two months into it, but so far so good. I can actually envision starting to clean out the unfinished upstairs that is acting like an attic storage center so we can finally finish a couple of rooms there. I bought some pansies and mums yesterday. I think tomorrow may be a gardening day. Tonight I am making that prosciutto, Potato and Leek soup I saw on Rachel Ray. Tomorrow night maybe homemade Chicken and Dumplings. Wednesday, I plan on packing up some of my daughter's summer clothes and maybe organizing my scrapbook stuff that is starting to take over a corner of my bedroom. A nice roast for dinner sounds good.
Yes, I know that some think I am not fulfilling my potential as a college educated, forward thinking, income earning product of women's rights and how far we have come as a gender to be heard from and listened to. I think that is a bunch of malarky. Last month's issue of ELLE magazine had a scathing article aimed at all women not currently employed and how we should be ashamed of ourselves, we are wasting our lives ,poor examples for our children, and so on and so on. As a former careeraholic,I have one rather juvenile response,
Bite Me.
While I always believed as a woman you can have it all, I never thought that meant having it all at the same time. Why not stretch the ALL into segments so you can savor each part.Having it all at once, or trying to just seems that some of the ALL gets rushed through, overlooked or pushed aside.
I am having it all.
I had college.
I have had a marriage for 24 years and counting.
I had lots of self indulgent me time and us time.
I had a great career.For 20 years.
I had children.
Now I am having the mommy part.
For me that is having it all. The reason we waited until this time in our life to be parents was so that we could slow down and enjoy this all encompassing part of it. So we did not have to try and do it all. We have never been ones for the rat race. Never gave much thought to keeping up with the Jones.
I feel that we were meant to wait until our 40's to want to be parents. We could afford adoption from Russia then. We had the courage and the faith it took. We had the time and the commitment of effort that was required. We knew that love trumped biology and that nurture outscored nature.We knew that any earlier and we would not have been the best parents we could have been.
While man may make the plans, God controls the steps.
I have driven a Mercedes, a two seater convertible sports car. I have mistakenly attributed status and coolness to what I drove.
I now drive a MINIVAN. I LOVE MY MINIVAN.
It shouts I AM A MOM. When did that become something to hide.
I can't for the life of me understand minvan jokes or that some women
"Wouldn't be caught dead in one".
The day I drove my brand new Dodge Grand Caravan XLT, leather interior , fully automatic doors( front ,side and rear), Flip down DVD player that also gets local TV stations, heated front seat , triple control and three zone heat and AC control, Stow and Go seats,recessed storage in rear off the lot was one of the happiest days of my life.
It was like a Mom medal to me.
At first my sister, friends and 16 and 18 year old niece and nephew made jokes, made fun and pretty much gouged me about driving a minivan. They really did not believe my demonstrative gushings of my love for it. Now, 3 year later, who's getting the last laugh. ME. Why? Because they all love it too. You drive, they always say. Even if it just us adults riding. It makes their sporty compacts seem claustrophobic , their gas guzzling SUV's seem financially irresponsible. My minivan seems like mini-nirvana. I am guessing that those other Moms and individuals who have their noses in the air and making the snide comments about my ride have never actually ridden in one.
Come on over, I'll give you a test drive.
I guess a minivan is part of the SAHM persona non grata. Although the stay at home part is misleading. While I can choose to spend most of my days in the compound keeping the home fires burning, that really isn't the case. My husband seems to have more errands for me to run these days. I can take 2 hours to grocery shop if I want, window shop at the mall at leisure( haven't ever really done that yet). I go to the gym. Check on the Grandparents and do chores for them. I work on Thursdays at the hospital from 8:30 to 1:30. Not enough to qualify me as a working mother, but enough to keep me up to snuff on medical advances, ever changing technology and assures that my license stays current. It also keeps my foot in the door should I ever decide to increase my contributions on the workforce. I also substitute teach at the Elementary school,volunteer for the PTO and help in the classroom. Schools are desperate for help and non working Moms are who the bulk of this falls on.
Now, I do not want working moms to think this is any kind of comment on them. I have the utmost respect for working mothers. Most of my friends are or have been working mothers. I was one for a year. It doesn't matter to me if your are working out of necessity or desire. You have my full support and admiration for all that your are doing. And I will help you in any way I can. You see, I think what all of us moms and all women should be celebrating and cheering for each other is that we now have CHOICES.
That we now have a choice in our lives and defining how we live. That each choice can be validated and each choice is contributing to society and is important. That we are all earning an income, just in different currency. None of us should be made to feel less than or even greater than each other because of the lifestyle choices we have made. No mother should ever have to defend her place in the world or how she spends her days or doesn't spend then.
Each woman's vision of having it all, getting it all and being it all is very personal and different.
I think the hardest part is figuring out what that is and then attaining it.
Next hardest is being happy and fulfilled in living that choice.
I hope that I can teach my daughter that she can be anything and do everything that she wants in life.
I hope, by my own example, she doesn't think she has to do it all at once.
But if she does, I hope I can help her figured out how.
In becoming a mother,Part of my All was choosing to adopt my son and daughter from Russia.
In being a mother, my all right now is letting that be my primary job. Some will say my only job.
That's fine by me.
So when you see me pass by in my silver Minivan in the middle of the week , in the middle of the day, smiling and singing along to the radio, in my casual non work attire.
Don't feel sorry for me, don't think I am not fulfilling my potential.
You don't have to give me a second thought at all.
But if you do, I hope you see a smart, progressive women who is happily fulfilling her dreams and her destiny of which she has total control. Or as much control as you can have.
SAHM
Satisfied and Happy Mom.
That should be all of our goals, no matter how you go about achieving it.
That is how we live our best life and show our children how to live theirs.
And Be Proud of It. (minivan included)

Opinions are like........ Here's Mine

I really enjoy reading about other pre adoptive parents questions about concerns and choices of the adoption journey. I also enjoy answering questions and offering advice on the million and one things that come up. After 3 trips and two adoptions, I feel like a wise old sage in this area. Of course , there are as many differing opinions and experiences as there are adoptions.There are some topics that are always areas of concern and question in adoption chats and message boards. And the differing advice can escalate sometimes to the Friday Night Fights,which of course adds to the confusion of the waiting families, who were expecting a short , concise and definitive answer. But what subject or topic in any venue ever gets that. But for what's its worth, here are my thoughts on some recent subjects I have been reading and yes, offering my two cents worth on.
PREADOPTION CHOICES:
Boy-Girl,Infant-Toddler-Older-Younger:
I think in adoption it is OK to think of these choices as a perk. While there are some high tech ways of determining gender in a bio child now, I don't know of anyone who has used this method,even my friends with 4 girls and crossing every appendage they have for number 5 to be a boy (It wasn't).If you don't care ,then don't specify. If you do care, then say so. So what if the wait may be longer for a girl. I know plenty of families who asked for a girl(myself included) and did not have to wait any longer than the "boy" parents. Do not feel guilty or that you are shopping. Part of international adoption is choosing parameters for your child referral. It is not mandatory that you make a choice, but it is perfectly fine, justified and a positive part of adoption if you do. If you are dreaming of a little boy or a daughter, then that part of the dream you have the power to make come true. Our first adoption we did not specify and it brought us our son. We entered our second adoption for a daughter. A DAUGHTER, no apologies or explanation needed.

AGE is the same, sorta.We wanted as young as possible. We asked for under a year, we got under a year. I know all the arguments for why a toddler is better(Health assessment advantage) or an older child(may be quicker, and more in need).Of course those two may have harder attachment, but most do just fine.We wanted young. No ,we were not trying to have the "newborn" experience or mourning the loss of that. We could have had that with a bio. We chose adoption over that. But because we were open on health, we figured that the younger the child the earlier we could intervene on health issues.So if you want young hold out for that, if you reach your limit on waiting,then you can up the age bracket.If you read the adoption message boards you will see a pattern emerge. Each parent thinks that the age they adopted is the perfect on and will have legitimate reasons to support it. This is how is should be. I hope every parent thinks the choices they made were perfect. And they will be. That is the miracle of adoption.The child you bring into your heart and home will be the perfect match, even if it is not what you thought you wanted.Or it may be exactly as you imagined and waited on.
Go with your heart.
This is not a lease agreement,
it is a lifetime, yours and theirs.
NAME: To Change or Not to Change
This also brings out righteous emotion.Again, Do what you want? If you love their Russian name, or feel a particular duty to keep it,then keep it. Remember that many children placed at birth are named by a nurse at the hospital. Older children of course were named by bio parents. They will have an opinion.Some want to keep the Russian name and others refuse to answer to it, wanting a new American name to go along with their new American life and future. If you are adopting a child, say 2 years old or younger, than it is simply up to you.We thought it was our right as new parents of infants to pick out a name, just like most all parents get to do. This filled up a lot of time while we waited for the call. Look, it took my husband two weeks to pick out a name for our poodle, so you can imagine what went into naming our children. He didn't want it to be too long or too common or too unusual. He read the book of 50,000 names , set it down and proclaimed that he did not like any of them. I kid you not. I , on the other hand, liked a lot of them. Most he deemed to unusual or rhymed with something that could used in a taunt by other kids. Since we did not know if our first child would be a boy or girl ,and choosing two names next to impossible , we agreed to pick one name that could be either gender.We agreed on Riley. Will for a middle name after Dad. Our son's Russian name was Ivan, not bad but not one have ever felt sorry about not keeping. Then came our second adoption and this time we knew it would be a girl. Out came the baby name books.My husband once again, hard to please.Then one day, while we were shopping at the big mall,I glanced up at a sign above a store. MACY"S. I sorta not jokingly said,"how about Macy for her name?" expecting an eye roll in response. Lo and behold , he thought about it for half a second and said ,"Yes, I like that, its settled, Macy it is" And Macy it was and she is a Macy, whatever that means.We combined both her grandmothers names for a middle name. She loves that she is named after them.She knows that her Russian name was Irina Michealenova, she likes Macy better.
So pick out a name you love, a family name or wait and see the name they come with. But don't make it any harder than it is. My two do not need a Russian name to know where they were born. My daughter can tell you all about it in her Scarlett O'Hara southern twang accent.
Some other things that may keep you up at night I have shorter answers to.
Packing-Don't take food-we ate constantly while in Russia, don't take toilet paper(they have it I promise)
and pretty much everything else you may need
Clothes- You don't have to take all Black clothes. I have no idea who started that rumor.You will walk a lot so take comfortable shoes. Dress nice. We found that most all Russians we saw dress nicely. They put time,thought and effort into dressing each day. No sweats, slouchy comfort clothes, few tennis shoes.The women had hair stylishly fixed, makeup and jewelry.Lots of short skirts, hosiery and high heels. Husband did not complain. Look, adopting a child is one of the most important things you will do and you should dress for the occasion. You will also be taking more pictures than you ever have on any trip and you will undoubtedly appear in a few. These are pictures that you will show anyone who will look and pictures you and your children will look at for the rest of your life. You will be thankful for the little extra effort you put into it. And yes, Russians do wear blue jeans and no matter what you wear , they will not mistake you for a local.
I guess the moral of this blog entry is this.
This is your adoption,your child, your family.
While there are rules of thumb and guidelines,there are also exceptions to every rule.
Make it your own.
Every choice that can be made, has been made by thousands of adoptive parents who came before you.
Just as many make the same choice as you will and just as many will choose differently.
Don't waste energy on decisions that won't matter 5 years from now like what to wear or what to pack or which diaper or what stroller. Although these things do help you pass the time.
Follow your own heart and head, dreams and desires in making choices that will matter to you like health, or gender or a name.
There is no right or wrong answer.
Unless you choose someone else's answer and not your own.
Some things won't matter,That's OK
Some things will matter, That's OK too.
And later, when you are home with your child and have the experience under your belt. You can be the wise old sage on the adoption board voicing your opinion and debating your choices.
Hope to see you there, it really is a lot of fun and occasionally I think we help someone.
Ok, I love the debating part too.

Macy, age 5- I can see the future in her face

Traveling the Broken Road

2006 has been a year of firsts.
First year of kindergarten for my daughter
First year of an official diagnosis for my son, PDD-NOS
First year my niece is away at college
First year of my sister being married to Mr.Right
First year I don't have to wait in the school car pick up line.
First gray hair
First year I am closer to 50 than 40

Saturday my sister got married. She is 4 years younger than me. This was her second marriage. The first lasting 18 years and producing two great children. But this is the first time she has married the right guy for her. They are truly soul mates and I am so happy for her.
My daughter was the flower girl. It is the second time this summer she has been in a wedding so of course she thinks she is a professional flower girl by now. She did so good that I am considering renting her out for other weddings. As I sat in the church during the wedding ,I looked at my beautiful almost 19 year old niece and wondered if she would be the next bride in our family.Since she is planning on going to medical school that could be way in the future. Then I looked at my 5 year old daughter in her long ivory dress and flowers in her hair and thought how quickly time will fly and before I know it she will be the bride. Then I look over at my son, sitting in the pew, looking so grown up in his button down shirt and singing along( not quietly) every word of Rascal Flatts "Bless the Broken Road". And I wonder will he find love outside the warm embrace of his family. Will he marry and have a family one day. Do I dare have the same hopes and dreams for him that I have for my daughter?
I think that this is something that all parents of a special child ponder more than others.
Will he find a career he loves and can support himself?
Will he live on his own?
Will he find that someone who thinks he is special in all the normal "falling in love" ways?
If not, who will look after him when we are gone?
How do we make sure he is taken care financially for the rest of his life?
Will this responsibility fall to his sister? Should It? Would she have it any other way?
Should I be thinking about all this now, he is only 7 years old?
I am a mother, I contemplate and worry about all kinds of things that may or may not happen in the distant future.
It is what mothers do.
This year we went to the Sparks Clinic and endured 3 days of testing on our son. That is when we got the diagnosis of Pervasive Developmental Delay-Non Origin Specific.
While it sounds like a very specific diagnosis, it is really quite vague in definition.
He did not have Asperger's, Not truly Autistic. He falls in the gray area. The gray area is large and is PDD.
His prognosis just as vague. He is doing great they told us, keep doing what we are doing.He has made tremendous progress since age 3 and he may continue to do so .Or he may peak or plateau at 8 or 12 or 16 or 20 or 30 0r 60.
See what I mean.
Glass half empty or half full.
I gave myself one day of the empty side. A one guest Pity Party. Ok , 3 guests. I called and cried to my mother and my sister. Wailing, gnashing of teeth, sobs.
Yes, the ugly cry.
They listened and reminded me how well Riley is really doing, how great a kid he is, how happy he is in his life and how much he is loved and how he will always have loving family around him.
Pity Party over and return of my naturally optimistic but realistic outlook.
The truth is he is a great kid and a happy one.
He is smart and can do most th ings his peers can.
We see new things he learns and new skills he masters on a daily,weekly and monthly basis.
He is easy going and very well behaved.
He has varied interests and true areas of strengths.
He is surrounded by a huge extended family and we are all very close. He has 11 first cousins that all live within a 20 mile radius and all but 3 are close in age to him.
I have always been totally and madly in love with him as has is father and have always felt blessed and proud to be his parents.
Sometimes I do wonder what would have happened to him if he had been left in that orphanage in Russia to grow up. The realities of children with issues in Russia is horrifying. What may have become of my beautiful happy child is too disturbing to imagine. No matter what path his life takes , it will be a million times better than the alternative.
He is a million times loved.
While I can try to guide and shape his future, life sometimes has it's own ideas.
And so will he, just as it should be.
So, the momness in me will always ponder my children's future and I will try my best to prepare them to be their best and teach them how to be happy. But the truth is most is out ofour control.
I have learned that my energy and attention is best used in enjoying the now.
To be grateful for each day with them. To relish their accomplishments and laughter today, the future will take care of itself.
The past is over and the future not here, it is in the present where I should be.
This was my horoscope yesterday as I was thinking about my son's future and how it may differ from his sister's:
And if a problem pops up or an obstacle gets in your path, you can use your wit and innovative thinking to work your way around it. You're wise enough to understand that there are many different paths to the same destination -- have the courage to take the path that no one else has the guts to explore.
Wow, how that can be applied to adoption and parenting.
I am a wiser person after experiencing adoption and becomng a parent.
I am a much better person than I would have ever been because of my son.
He has taught me the most importnant lessons I have ever learned about love, commitment and joy. My daughter has taught me lessons of her own.
Having gone through two adoptions by choice, we certainly took an uncommon path to our children. Adoption is also about courage and faith. While our adoptions happened in a fairly quick and timely manner, I know that many take much longer and require more faith and endurance to see to completion. Courage is also a requirement in deciding on international adoption and in the commitment to a child that at the beginning you know nothing about and have no clue on what your future together may hold.
As a parent of child with more obstacles to overcome than some, I understand the fear in wondering if your future child may have issues and the heartbreak in finding out that he or she does. But I also want you to know that after that comes the joy and pride, thankfulness and more love than you ever imagined. A little fear is healthy but too much fear can be incapacitating and robs you and your child to all the wonderful and magic in life.
In every life, in every child.
Even if your dreams have to be rearranged and the realities are different.
Different is OK, different is fun, different is richly rewarding.
Happily Ever After comes in many different forms.
Wouldn't it be boring if it didn't.
Life should never be boring. Or predictable.
The one constant should be love and laughter.
In our house , I think that it is.
I think the song that means so much to my sister and new brother in law also applies to both of my journeys to my children.For those of you still on the road to adoption or new to parenting I hope the words touch you also.
Bless The Broken Road
I set out on a narrow way many years ago.
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two. Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you
Every long lost dream led me to where you are Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you

I like to think that our road is no longer broken.
It is winding, curvy scenic route that we are meandering along.

Bless the Road that all of you are on.

Just Another Day in Paradise

Well, we’ve dodged another bullet. That’s how I think of a situation that happily goes better than I anticipated with my son . When you a “differently” abled child (I like that term) some of the everyday mundane chores and happenings can be anything but ordinary. Take a doctor’s visit. My daughter loves going to the doctor. Sadly for her, she is never sick and other than yearly check ups and vaccination appointments she has only had 2 sick child visits since she became ours at age 11 months. Once for croup and once for the ever so lovely coxsackie virus otherwise know as Foot and Mouth disease. Both, by the time I decided to take her to the doctor, had almost run their course and were practically gone the day after our visit. The visit where she finally got to pee in a cup was very exciting for her. My excitement came later that day at home when she proudly brought me her juice cup filled to the rim with warm, well you know what… then I had to convince her that ONLY at the doctor’s office do we pee in a cup.
My son’s story is somewhat similar, with a few exceptions. We had him circumcised about 6 weeks after arriving home. For initially personal reasons that turned into medical when it was discovered he was already beginning to have some adhesions. This is a HOT!HOT! topic on parent boards these days. My advice- Decide for yourself then keep your decision to yourself and avoid the ruckus. Then about 6 months later he had tubes put in his ears for multiple ear infections. That was done when he was 18 months old. He is almost 8 years old now and has never had a sick child visit since. Even though he only goes once a year, he HATES everything about the doctor’s office. Even weighing and measuring his height is terrifying for him. I am continually thanking God for my son’s great health because once a year is about all he and I can take. He also has a nose like a blood hound and can smell medicine at 50 paces away. No matter what it was ever hidden in, he has a 6th sense about it. The few fever viruses he has had, our choice has been to just let nature take its course. Which by the way is why he rarely ever gets sick my pediatrician tells us .Our lack of being able to medicate him has built up a very strong immune system. Twice we have had to resort to Tylenol Suppositories, delicately and quickly given when he was asleep. I have found I had a special talent for that.
My daughter also loves the dentist . When she was 2 she had to have a molar crowned because of a prenatal soft spot on the enamel. She calls this her princess tooth. and is disappointed in a strange sort of way that she has only ever had to have them cleaned since then. She’s weird that way.
Riley has always had good teeth despite his precarious beginnings and his aversion to brushing due to sensory issues. I feel guilty when every 6 months our dentist tells him great job on the brushing. He tolerates his visits pretty good , but only because
1) He has been going since he was 2
2) He has great teeth and only has ever had to have them cleaned
3) Our pediadontist’s office is like Disney Land
4) My best friend ,since 6th grade, is a Dental Hygienist there and he has known her almost all his life.
At 7 ½ he has not lost a baby tooth yet, not even a loose one. I was beginning to wonder did he even have permanent teeth lurking in those gums. Then last Saturday at a local burger joint , he and I was in the bathroom. He was sitting to pee (This is the only way he will pee) and jabbering away when I noticed something white behind his bottom middle baby teeth. Maybe a French Fry? On close inspection, I saw it was a tooth coming in. Mild Panic starts bubbling up. The next day I look again, now there are two teeth showing. Medium Panic. I call my friend to come over and take a look. She does and proclaims “Yep, two teeth and the baby ones aren’t loose. They will probably have to take Riley to the Children’s Hospital Outpatient Surgery Center and extract those 4 baby teeth all at the same time. LARGE PANIC.
I make an appointment for him to go to the office and have a set of mouth x-rays. Something we have never done because he would be very hard to hold still for, be somewhat traumatizing and our dentist said no need to do one yet. YET.
Yet just ended.
So I get a few days to drive my self bonkers thinking about getting the x-ray and my baby having oral surgery. Having to do things just a little differently is part of having an out of sync child. Plan B comes into play often. Just a matter of fact and a fact of life.
Long story short. He sat in my lap, did great for the x-rays and TADA! The roots on his baby teeth are mostly gone so they will fall out naturally. No surgery and no trauma, this time around. Just when I think I have him figured out , he ups and surprises me.
Now why in the world he likes the dentist and hates the doctor , I may never know.
So goes life with my son. It is never dull and always unpredictable and I have learned to appreciate and love that part of my life.
He has taught me the life lesson about taking nothing for granted.
Haircuts-He hated and they freaked him out. It took three sweating adults to hold him still while he screamed and squirmed. She always earned a big tip. All of a sudden at age 4 ½, he climbed into the chair , sat quietly like he had done that every time.. Now he tells me when he needs one .So now a haircut trip has much more meaning to us than just the cutting of hair. It is a milestone he reached.
Disney- Most people I talked to had never considered taking their PDD or SID or spectrum disorder child to Walt Disney World.
Too much stimuli, too much noise, too many people, too much waiting in line.
The people dressed up as characters were too intimidating, too friendly and too scary.
Rides were just too much of everything.
We listened, we read. Our son did not like any of those things they mentioned.
We booked our trip.
We went.
Plenty of Plans A,B,C and D’s in place.
He loved everything about it.
He loved the noise, the fireworks, the people.
He stood patiently in line.
He hugged, almost on the verge of molesting every character that came anywhere near him.
He rode every ride he was tall enough for. He thought the Haunted House was hilarious and was mesmerized by the 3D movies.
And he talked. To us, other children, adult strangers.
He laughed and had not a single melt down.
For that glorious week he was a regular, normal, having the time of his life kid.
It was also a turning point for him in speech and socialization once we got home.
He truly did have something magical happen to him.
A little Pixie Dust was sprinkled on him somewhere in the Magic Kingdom.
And MGM. And Animal Kingdom. And Epcot. And Sea World.
We started planning our next trip the moment we got home.
Jan.13, 2007 we embark on our next Magical Journey to WDW.
I think that is what life with my son is. My daughter also.
A Magical Journey.
Like Magic , you never know when it will happen.
Like Magic, you can’t predict it’s outcome.
Like Magic, you never know where it will take you.
And sometimes there is no magic.
Sometimes he is scared, confused, inconsolable and difficult.
You make it through those times the best you can and luckily they don’t last near as long as you think they will.
But oh! the magic. When it strikes it is a sight to see.
Something worth waiting for.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Had we not taken the chance, we would have never known. I owe it to my son to let him experience the world.
The Bad-Doctors, dentists, haircuts.
The Good- Birthday parties, a regular class at school and
Disney World.
And in good time, the tooth fairy.
I hope she looks like Tinkerbelle.
I know she will leave him a nice present for his tooth.
More Pixie Dust.
As for his sister, she is getting to spend her birthday having dinner with Cinderella and Prince Charming.
In our house, there is always enough magic to go around for everyone.

BLUE LIGHT SPECIAL

Only if you are as old as me do you remember being at KMart and hearing"Attention Shoppers Our Blue Special Right now is....." and everyone would rush to the blue flashing light as if men's underwear or Ant Spray or a case of Odor Eaters was the very thing on the top of your shopping list. Or not. Didn't matter if it was ON SALE!
I had never been to much of a shopper. I debunked the urban legend that all women just love to shop. Once in the spring, again in the fall, Christmas and a few birthdays pretty much fulfilled my inner shopping beast.The exception being grocery shopping, I have always (and still do) love to go grocery shopping. I think I inherited that gene from my Dad. My mom and my sister would be most happy if they had never set foot even once in a grocery store. For me and my Dad it was the highlight of our week. I still feel euphoric the night before grocery day as I make out my list and plan a week of meals. Probably because I love to cook and do just about every night, even when it was just the two of us.
But once I became a mom something in me changed or evolved maybe. Not for myself, but for my kids. If it was something I thought they needed, wanted or would be deprived without there was nothing I wouldn't do to obtain it. Now I have never gone beyond budget or sacrificed mortgage or power bill money and I have never believed just because you could afford something was permission to buy it. I am also not an impulse buyer, just the opposite.
A contemplative purchaser.
Enter EBAY! I think I heard trumpets just by typing in the name. EBAY!!!!!!!
I LOVE EBAY. I am sure there will soon be an Ebay 12 step program.
I sold each of my children's crib sets when they moved to a real bed.
My son's cute ZOO theme collection is now warming the bed of a little boy in Wisconsin.
My daughters Pink and Yellow Girly Stuff has made dreaming more sweet for a baby girl in Florida.
I have perfected my last minute fight to the death of the time clock bidding technique.
Never have sweeter words been uttered to me than
The Auction had ended. YOU are the winning BIDDER!
Ebay has brought me every Holiday Barbie from 2000( The year my daughter was conceived in Russia) up through 2005, the current one .
A multitude of Gymboree clothes NWT, new with tags for you uninitiated to ebay speak. And of course 50% off retail.
My son loves school buses. So it was my duty as his mother to find and purchase every type of toy school bus out there. From the continental Unites States up to Canada and across the ocean to the United Kingdom, I have found those buses. My reward is not in winning the bid, the joy of finding it on the cheap as a Buy It Now or even in the arrival of the package. It is seeing my son play with them ever single day. And in finding the same one again when I ran over it with my car.
Fisher Price play sets were the same.When I noticed how much he loved them and played with them year after year what kind of mom would I have been if I hadn't spent the next three months knocking out collectors and bringing to my UPS and Fed Ex guy the vintage Hospital and school house, castle and all the pieces and people to complete his world of make believe.
RED DOG .....My son has a red dog he has slept with every night since we brought him home 7 years ago.
Red Rover Beanie Buddy circa 1999 to be exact.
When we were in Russia meeting our daughter and he was staying with my sister, her poodle attacked Red dog. He lost an ear and part of a paw. Once home I dutifully repaired it and began to have nightmares about losing it. So in the dead of night I found myself up and in glow of my computer screen buying another one on Ebay. Now he sleeps with Red dog 1 and Red dog 2. Last year in another panic I went ahead and bought Red dog 3. Just in case, Ya never know. Red Dog 1 has lost an eye and a nose, most of his beanies and been restuffed with old pantyhose. Red dog 2 has also lost a nose and gone to surgery once or twice for hole repairs. My son still loves Red dog 1 the most. Red dog 3 is living in my closet, pristine in his original packaging. We may never need him. Never say Never.
My daughter has never been attached to a stuffy or a softie. But she will, in a heart beat issue a demand that I peruse Ebay for a certain movie, or computer game or hair bow. And she can tell you every outfit in her closet that came via an Ebay victory.
The computer and the internet have made my life as a mother so much easier. I buy toys, clothes, lawn mower and dish washer parts and pistachios. I pay all my bills on it. I cyber test drove cars before we made our last purchase. I have researched information about my son's PDD-NOS and coached families I will never meet through adoptions and those first few months home.
I have planned many a vacation in quiet of midnight. Culling through all the must sees and must do's so my family will have the best possible time.
I have checked us into airport for flights long before we even arrive at the terminal.
Right now I am basking in the aftermath of having completed planning our trip to Walt Disney World in January. Made the perfect hotel reservations and the most suitable restaurant Advanced Dining Reservations. I know the menus at all the table and counter service places and all of our snack options. I have a list of all the rides my two munchkins are too short to ride and the ones my son may not feel the magic on. Our daily schedule has been printed and laminated, making sure we hit those early and late Magic Hour Times.
I have ordered Circus and Disney on Ice tickets, Front Row Center.
My collection of Russian lacquerware that I began on our three adoption trips has been greatly expanded thanks to my cyber sleuthing.
All while wearing my pajamas.
So maybe I have always been a shopper. It was the "going" part I avoided.
I just had to wait for technology to catch up.
And as I always tell my husband,
"Honey,Look how much money I saved you"

Speak now or ........................

No matter what path leads you to decide to adopt, you soon realize that for about the next year you life is mostly about decisions, choices, options,opinions as well as pros and cons and wants and needs. Each of our adoptions were no different. When making our way through our first adoption of our son the biggest, of course was what country,followed by which agency, then gender , age and health. Russia was an easy choice, agency took some shuffling through many choices but in the end it was also a pretty easy decision also. Since we would be first time parents we wanted to experience as much of the early months as we could so we asked for under 12 months. We had no preference of gender so we said either. We were also pretty wide open on health. We decided from the start not to use an International Adoption Physician to evaluate our referral. We were open and felt capable emotionally to parent a child with any number of health issues and thought that by asking for as young as possible that gave us the best possible scenario for early intervention of any problems.We also felt very strongly that this was the most important and forever choice we would make and knew that we needed to accept our son through our own heart and mind and would bring a child into our family based on the whole child and what our gut told us and not anyone else's approval or rating of a child. This was the first controversial decision and opinion we would have, it would later seem. I know that to many, if not most adoptive parents that the assurance of good health of their prospective child is a top priority and our thoughts on that area were in the minority or hard to imagine, but in our hearts it just was not a big issue and we felt most comfortable this way. Our son was 9 months old and pretty malnourished. He has mild PDD and some expressive language delays and we think he is just perfect and feel like the luckiest parents around to be raising him. We wouldn't change a thing about the way we did it.
When we adopted a second time our child request were the exact same other than asking for a girl and for the same orphanage. Once again we were open on health and did not use an IA evaluation. Once again we feel like we snagged the Brass ring with our daughter.
Our thoughts in not getting an evaluation are just one many mindsets in adoption that are the basis for debate in adoption circles. And one , to my surprise, I would later have to defend and explain on adoption chats and message boards
Now with what we felt like was our perfect family of four in place, we pretty thought the days of decision making and adoption choices were behind us.
Au Contraire!!
Enter politically or actually ,adoptively correct language and ideas.
Who Knew?
And some adoptive families get quite overheated and in a form of "WORD" rage over it.
Let's start with the basics.
Your child is adopted, chosen, meant for you, placed, relinquished, abandoned, made a plan for, birth parents rights terminated...
They entered this world via birth parent,birthmother,first mother, other mother,woman who gave birth,tummy mommy,Russian lady......
I am your adoptive Mom, Real mom, forever Mom, and you grew in my heart, mind, wishes, dreams and you were meant for us....
The word adoption itself ,used in reference to anything other than the joining of a child and a family can push some into an apoploptic fit. Causing reams of letter writing, product bans and maybe even a picket line or two. Personally to me adoption means making a commitment to love and care for something. A child, a pet or a cause. Even Adopt a Road cleanups do not bother me in the least and lot more litter strewn places could use a good adoption placement. I can honestly say the only time I got a case of the vapors was when a Middleton Doll Adoption nursery opened at a department store in our area to a big fanfare and front page article in the newspaper. In a advocating fury I pounded out a letter to the editorial section, which was promptly printed about how distasteful I felt it was,yada,yada yada. That spawned more letters to the editor from other adoptive families in equal numbers for and against my opinion. I am honest enough to admit that I have since changed my mind about it. And if my daughter one day wants to venture in and "adopt" her own baby doll from there, we will. It may be under assumed names and in disguise, paying cash and leaving no paper trail but I think it will be a natural opportunity to talk about her adoption.
So be prepared to choose a side of the fence on a subject. Also be prepared to climb over those fences sometimes, even if it is under the cover of darkness.
There is also the arguments for and against telling your child all the nitty gritty details of their adoption story, what age to tell, age appropriate information.
Volumes written on telling or not telling teachers, schools, classmates ,friends, acquaintances,etc. Decisions, Decisions, Decisions.
What if I make the wrong decision, use the wrong words or bad timing?
Will this cause irrevocable damage to my child, hurt out relationship, color their place in the world if I choose incorrectly?
Can I go back and fix a snafu, retract my foot out of my mouth,call a mulligan or a redo?
Will I be labeled insensitive, naive, uninformed, ineffective adoption advocate or in denial?
If my opinion differs from yours does it mean I love, care, support or think about my child less than you?
Geez, you maybe asking by now what brought all this reflection or warning of things to come, today.
I will tell you.
This week I volunteered at the book fair at my children's school. Basically classes come in with money from home and purchase books and what nots and you help them decide on what they can afford and help them purchase it. I, of course, chose a day that both my children's classes would be attending. My daughter proudly marched in with her kindergarten class and when she saw me ,skipped on over. As I was helping her decide between My Little Pony and Barbie's 12 Dancing Princess, a classmate asked her if I was her Mommy. My daughter, matter of factly said "Yes, Can't you see how much we look alike?" to which the little girl agreed.
I was happy with her answer.
But this is where I thought about where some other adoptive Moms differ from me.There are some who will quickly correct anyone who points out how much their child resembles them whether the one making the observation knows they are adopted or not. They feel it is their duty or adoptive requirement to point out that they could not possible look alike or act alike or BE ALIKE because they are not biologically related.This tends to embarrass both the complimentor and the child, I would think. That in just saying Thank You and agreeing, that they are in some way denying the adoption or receiving kudos that they have not earned.
Or more distasteful to me ,are the ones who heap praise and glory knee deep upon their adopted child about their attractiveness or other shining qualities to anyone that will listen or profusely agree to a compliment because they assume since they had nothing genetically to do with it , they are as free to point these things out as anyone else.
I just say Thank you.
Thank You covers a multitude of other possible replies.
Just say Thank You.
Everyone is happy with a Thank You.
I think we all at one time evolved from the same gene pool. Whether you believe it was Adam and Eve or a couple of cave people.
So when you say my children and I have the same big blue eyes, same blond hair and we look so much alike. I will agree.
When you note that my daughter gets her interests, verbal skills and socially outgoing personality from me, I will also agree.
When you point out that my son looks just like his Dad did as a child, has his same laid back personality and athletic ability, I will once again agree.
Because we all favor ,does it make the fact that we are an adoptive family easier? Yes
Even though my two know they were adopted ,do they find some comfort in our similarities?Yes Were these things we thought about when choosing Russia and making decisions we are happy we made? Yes!
I now know that all those decisions we made , both big and small, were not over and done with one we brought our children home. We may on occasion have the need to explain or uphold them from time to time.
I also know that adoption itself lends itself to many other choices and decisions.
Battles to choose and things to let slide.
Mountains to build from mole hills and bumps to simply step over or around with nary a glance.
But which ever team you decide to play for, remember that first and foremost we are all in the same league.
The Adoptive Family League.
Let's be each other's cheerleaders and agree to disagree sometimes.
That most adoptive subjects are in the gray area, rarely black and white and as many right and different answers as there are children.
Sometimes its us against the world and sometimes we just think its that way.
And most of the time its OK not to have an opinion about something and its even OK to have the same thoughts and opinions as every bio parent around you.
So when I quietly help my child with the Family Tree Assignment or Genetic Trait Poster or when I agree that we have the exact same shade of blue eyes or I agree with her that an angel sent her from heaven to us or that yes, they did grow in my Heart instead of my tummy, remember this.
I am not denying their past.
I am not forgetting they were adopted.
I am not pretending I gave birth to them.
I am not avoiding rocking the boat.
I am not just choosing the easy way.
I am just a Mother loving her children and doing what I think is best.
Just like every other Mom.
Sometimes making mistakes, sometimes changing my mind, sometimes making it up as I go along.
Sometimes just going along with the status quo and other times being the squeaky wheel.
So far it seems to be working.
So far.

All the DAYS of our LIVES

Used to be in one's life you had your BIRTHDAY and WEDDING as the big two you celebrated. Along with Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, July 4 and Easter. Then you added the birth's of your children.
That was pretty much the BIG 8.
Once we adopted our son I found out that NOOOO that is not enough. Along with your new child's birthday, there is the Day we MET you, COURT DAY, the day we picked you up otherwise known as GOTCHA DAY,the day we arrived home or FAMILY day. Some also throw in the we got the CALL day. Now I hear from other Mom's the newest thing is HALF YEAR BIRTHDAYS. I kid you not.
Now as an adoptive parent, all these moments that occurred on the way to each of our children are special and I can tell you the date and time and minute details of each one. They are precious to us and I will always remember them, mostly in the privacy of my own heart and mind. But invitation lists, catered food and gifts will never be a part of it. The initial gift of excitement, hope, faith and our new child were enough to last through all the other anniversaries of these dates and nothing else will ever stand up to and compare to that.
Why Try?
Parents of Bio children do not celebrate Conception Day, First missed Period Cotillion, A TOAST to the First Stretch mark or Hemorrhoid Ho Down or Thinned out Cervix Party. Nor do they continue with day we brought you home on a annual basis.
Both of ours were adopted during the month of Nov. So we quietly have made this family month. Just by chance there is a Russian Food Festival in a town about an hour away the first weekend of Nov. each year. We have made this our way of marking each year that we have been a family. No bells,no Whistles, no guests. Just a lovely day with our children, allowing them to keep in touch with their roots and we get to pig out on all the great food that takes us back to our time in Russia. Since our children were to young to even remember any time in Russia, it is really a reminiscence for us. They just enjoy the wedding cookies and the music and dancing. To them we have always been a family and always will, so any chance to run around outside in the fall air, well, that is just grand. Maybe they notice on this day that we gaze at them a little longer or that my husband and I sit a little closer and hold hands a little more on this day. They are not too curious about the quiet yet animated talk between us as we bit into a cabbage roll , a pierogi or borscht. The taste and smells transporting us back to that magical time in our lives.
Just as I am licking the remnants of an almond and pistachio paklava off my lips, my precious Rostovian/Russian/American offspring jolt me back to the present with a pleading "Can we stop at McDonald's on the way home,PLEASEEEE?" And in the residual glow of good food and happy memories and because it is a day of celebration and they are the guests of honor ,we say YES.
We hugely party down on the Big 8, but I hope that my children know each and every day how special they are and just to be with them is like winning a lottery ticket every morning when they wake up.
There are many adoptive parents that have big get togethers for Gotcha Day with guests and presents, I am certain that these big events have invited guests that are families that were formed in the usual and regular(dare I say boring) way who may wonder what the big deal is ,which then leads them to having to deal with a bio child wondering out loud where are their Gotcha day gifts and so on.
No dount that there will be many moments in your adoption that will remain as highpoints in your life as a parent. Days that are meant to be remembered and savored and maybe even marked in their passing in significant and private manner.
My children know they are adopted and our family is unique in the way it was built and we Thank God everyday that we were blessed to be together. Our goal , is the same as other adoptive families, to just be a plain old family. For others and ourselves to mostly forget the adopted part and just be the same as everyone as we live our life, A mom and A dad , A brother and A sister just like everyone else. I think by continually pointing out the each and every extraordinary milestone to them and the world on an annual basis would rob them of some of this sameness we hold so precious. I think every family, even those that have not gone through adoption should set aside a Family Day and take a pause and truly be thankful for each other and the journey it took to their children and mark that moment each year.
So before you print up those GOTCHA DAY Cookout announcements or send out those 'We have Been a Family for 5 years" invitations maybe you can think of a more private, personal and more easily carried on tradition for yourselves and your children,.
Gather all those special moments , emotions and love and pile it onto one day a year.
The rest of time the BIG 8 will do just fine.
Make that 9, forgot Halloween.
OK , make that 10, Summer Vacation!!

Mom Jeans, Botox and Pets

This week I have been reading some blogs from couples that are in the process of adopting a first child. Couples who are so much like we were before our son joined us. DINKS with time to think about fabric swatches and paint choices, still actually being able to have a hobby and spur of the moment dates. It has gotten me to thinking about all the ways my life has changed since my name became Mommy or Riley's Mom or Macy's Mom.
Showers: Before kids I could not imagine skipping the daily ritual of getting up each morning, engaging in a long shower that included hair removal, exfoliating, deep moisturizing , aromatherapy and a little music. Then onto the 10 step makeup application, more aromatherapy.Now on occasion I have to skip it all together, even the bathing part and not feel particularly grossed out by it. I just tell myself I am doing my part in water and energy conservation.

Drive through windows- Before my two arrived I rarely if ever got food to go in a sack without ever leaving my car. No need to because just myself or with other adults we could go in anywhere, anytime and eat in a fast 15 minutes or take an hour and 15 minutes. Now, I have taught my children about "Car Picnics" which is driving through and eating in the car and on the move. The Micky D's Happy meal box makes this particularly easy. Just open the box, dump in the nuggets and fries and pass it back. I am not ashamed to say that sometimes I crave a cheeseburger or that there will be a Happy Meal with my name on it.

Jeans-Used to be tight and long were the only criteria. They were all straight legged. Now, oh my God, Oprah had a whole show dedicated to finding the perfect Jean. Flare, boot cut, straight, tapered. Low rise, mid rise. God FORBID you are wearing Mom Jeans. Mom Jeans, how much crueler could it get. You know, the jeans that actually go around your waist and cover your crack. It seems those comfy jeans of our youth now produce "front butt". As if I don't have enough things to beware of when trying not to embarrass my kids and if thinking about one butt isn't enough I now have two to ponder.

Laundry- I remember when we were just a family of two I would scour the house looking for enough laundry to fill the machine. I actually invented things to wash. I was thrilled if it needed to be hung to dry and blocked to dry, YEEHAW! Oh how I long for those days.
Now when I go into my laundry room, I yell out where is that family of midgets hiding that keeps giving me their laundry because no way the 4 of us have produced this much in the two days since I last caught up. Or maybe the neighbors are sneaking theirs in here to be washed and then sneaking back in during the time between when I fold it and actually put it away. Did you know that if you happen to forget and leave a load in the washer a little to long and it has that , ya know, smell starting and someone needs that whatever it is that of course is in that load ASAP that you can put it in the dryer and spray it a few times with Febreeze and it will be OK, unless you sweat in it, then all bets are off. I am saving for that new machine that washes and then dries your clothes all in one shabang.
Plastic surgery- Or that ever elusive chase to maintain our youth. When I was younger and had only myself to care for (Ok my husband too, but you get my drift) I was pretty much for doing anything you wanted to maintain that 20 something air about you. Face lift, butt lift, breast implants, liposuction, Botox all seemed OK and would more than likely be necessary one day.. Funny thing is now that I have two children and at the ripe old age of 46, I am not sure I buy into all that anymore. Shaving my legs these days gives me the same pampered feeling that a facial did 8 years ago. Mani/Pedi-No need, cutting my toe nails and slapping on some Burts Bees Coconut Foot Cream costs about .25 a pop and I'm good to go. Besides painting my finger or toe nails would just turn into doing the same to my wiggly impatient daughter who would insist on Jezebel Red instead of Ballet pink for hers. Best to just take the easy way out of that one.
Botox-Needles-No Brainer , I'll Pass.
Liposuction. Anyone getting a vacuum that strong so close to me better have it pointed at my floors or better yet between the cushions of my couch.
Don't get me wrong, I am all for self improvement and looking your best. It's just now its Ok if the outside is just holding up pretty well and the inside of me is the part I work on the most. I go to the gym and slather on face cream, serum, lotions and potions in the race against time. L'Oreal and my head have an intimate relationship, because I'm worth it and I have a 5 year old who insists I have Cinderella hair like hers. But I am proud of every day of my 46 years and quite frankly, every time I hear one of kids call me Mommy or tells me they love me , it takes months maybe even years off my face and hopefully adds them on to my life. As for my butt, well I hear they're making a comeback.
As long as I don't find Mom jeans in my closet and my breasts are still above my waist, I think I'll be just fine.
The Family Pet- My kids think its funny when I tell them that our poodle Bailey is really my first child. I have vacation and Christmas pictures I show them to prove it. A lot of couples like us practiced parenting first on a dog or cat. They take a similar unconditional love and daily care obligation as your children. We thought, well if we can keep our poodle safe, healthy and alive for this long, then maybe we can do the same for our child. Just kidding, we didn't really compare the two. Ok , we did but would never admit it. But now, two kids later and the poodle is still hanging in there. In fact I now think a dog or cat is mandatory to a Mom's sanity. Not because you will take any particular pride in being the one to feed them, take to the vet, let out on the cold mornings, bath when they roll around on the dead frog and cut the poop dingle berries from around the butt. But more importantly, my dog is the only one in my family that I can talk to who always agrees with me and never talks back. It is important for you to have at least someone in your house who can deliver that degree of worship and obedience, 100 % of the time. The cat, the fish nor the Hermit crabs (don't ask) don't fill the space that my first born, Bailey does. And since poodles can live to be up to 19 years it may once again be just the three of us like it was in the beginning.

For those of you with children, well you are already living the reality I have laid out before you. To those of you still making dinner reservations for two and having sex on the kitchen floor. More power to you because this too shall pass.
One day soon you will find yourself sitting at the drive through trying to convince your son that Sprite is the same as Coke, just no color and no caffeine or repeating the no ketchup rule on car picnics to your daughter as you sit there with hairy legs and the same clothes on for the second day wondering if you washed your hands after you gave a little Brazilian trim to the dog and did you leave the dryer on.
You will look in the mirror and say who is that woman looking back at me and how did she get to be so lucky. You will then drive home, pick up French fries from between the seats and feed them to the dog, wash your hands ,step barefoot on a Matchbox car and yell out a word that one of your kids will be sure and use properly in sentence when your husband gets home.
You can't buy that kind of excitement!
It is then that you will realize how boring life was before and how alive and even sometimes young, you feel now.
And that its time for another trip down the hair color aisle at Wal-Mart.

9/11 and Me

8:32 am 9/11/2006
It was just about this very minute 5 years ago today that as I watched in horror and confusion at the World Trade Center attacks on my television, that my phone rang with a call that would change our lives on many levels. It was our agency calling to tell us that we had received an invitation to travel to meet an 8 month old girl. We would leave in 11 days. I think it was at that moment that I truly began to grow up, at age 41. I had to face down many fears and summon the courage and resolve in areas of motherhood that I had never faced before.
I was excited and nauseous. Happy and afraid. Confused and angry.
As if adoption doesn't hold enough unknowns as it is.
As if traveling so far away from my son wasn't hard enough.
Our adoption journey and the wait this time had been so much easier than the first time. Because we were using the same people, the same region and hopefully returning to the same orphanage, we were much more relaxed. Because I had a two year old at home, I was busy and mentally occupied. Unlike the first time where I would sit in a finished yet vacant nursery waiting and wondering if this dream would actually become a reality. This time , I knew sooner or later it would all come together. I wasn't worried about the travel, referral process, attachment,health ,court or any of those fears that traversed the mental landscape 2 years earlier. I had dealt with my fear of flying. Wine, Bailey's, Denial and an Ambien handled that just lovely.
What to pack, what not to pack , gifts, Russian food and language , all subjects that fill waiting parents conversations were no longer an issue. This time , as long as I did not succumb to the intensity of missing my son, we could relax and really enjoy each step in the process and insert some "vacation" like atmosphere into our two trips it would require to bring home our new daughter.
How dare those damn Terrorists mess with my groove, my Chi, my positive aura I had going.
It may surprise you to know that many pre adoptive parents on the message boards opted to postpone travel and some even dropped out completely in the aftermath of 9/11. That thought never crossed our minds. Those attacks on day of the CALL only made our resolve stronger and reinforced our desire for our daughter, a child we knew nothing about and had never glimpsed. It was on 9/11 that we claimed her and her future with us. That was the maturing I speak of. For me, in adoption, you become a Mom or Dad long before you know anything about your child. You begin to parent in your heart without knowing the due date, gender, even age. You have no idea whose eyes, hair, personality or feet they may have. You love them unconditionally by instinct, long before you can feel them move or smell their hair.
9/11 is the day I felt my daughter move.
In the days to follow, many Americans began to reprioritize their lives and schedules and slow down and really live every moment. It comes as no surprise to me that in the year to follow many families also began the journey to become first time parents, added to their families, got married or began to make a dream a reality.
Our easy, mostly carefree adoption became an onslaught of trying to get Fed Ex to drive our stuff to a closed down New York City, visas from a closed Russian Embassy and buy plane tickets on planes that were grounded. I was scared about leaving my son, terrified of the thought of taking him with us. My most terrorfying thought was what if this somehow stopped our adoption or delayed our trip. This child had waited long enough for a family. My idyllic small country town didn't seem quite so safe anymore. My fear of flying reared its ugly head again. For some perverse reason I kept thinking about my son's scrapbooks that were not up to date and how sad if something happened to us and no one would be able to finish them for him. Not afraid of dying or of who would care for him, but preserving his memories and life for him to have always. It is still these thoughts that spur me on to try and keep my scrapping up to date. I want them to always know, not only by feeling our love, but in words and pictures how truly wonderful we think they are, how precious every second with them has been and how truly pursued, wanted and chosen they were.
I think the moral of this story is that there is no easy way to adoption. The difficult times may come in the beginning , the middle or the end. It may come in the days and months after you come home with your child or it may have been in the years preceding your adoption if you had infertility or pregnancy difficulties. For others the most difficult time is coming to the decision and acceptance of adoption or in both parents agreeing to the many choices that adoption brings you. Also while half of your life ,time and emotions are living in the adoption world, life in general also goes on about you. Your adoption journey may coincide with health or extended family issues. Your travel may come at the worst time for your job, your finances or during your sister's wedding. One day you may be saying that you will just die if it doesn't happen and the next day you may be asking yourself "Am I sure I know what I am about to do ?"
Every adoption story has mountains to climb and miraculous moments. Seconds that creep painfully by and moments that move at the speed of light. Looking back on my two adoptions ,it was equally the valley of the lows and the tremendous sky highs that made it the blessing and trip of a lifetime that they were. I wouldn't trade a single difficulty or missed a single step of the way. Each disappointment , delay and difficulty made it all the sweeter. I mourn today for all the families that lost mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers and sister on September 11. Also for all the children that will now never be born to some of them.
But that day also holds good in it for me.
My daughter is one of the good things.
The hardship it brought to our journey made the end that much more wonderful.
I am more thankful to be a mother , for the simple family times and for life in general than I was before that day.
I know for sure that nothing will ever stand between me and my children. That I can make those difficult decisions and be strong in the face of danger for them and for my family.
9/11 was a sort of Thanksgiving for us.
To all of you still waiting to travel, being able to only parenting that child in your heart right now, know that as hard as the road may have been or continues to be during this adoption, there is a reason for it. It may be months or years before you see it. But I have faith that you will.
God's timing, those things that seem unfair. Everything that you cannot control and it seems as if just one more thing goes wrong you will go crazy. Trust me you won't.
You will be stronger , wiser and have more faith when you are finally tucking your child in bed.
It is all of this that will make you a better parent and prepare you for all the other decisions and difficult times ahead of you.
Because they will come.
Life is life, infinitely rewarding and heartbreakingly sad.
I would not want it any other way.
That is what makes it so worth the ticket and price of admission.
September 11,2006.
I would not be the woman I am today if not for this day 5 years ago.
And that I am thankful for.

To Be or Not to Be

Today, I took my daughter to her first kindergarten classmate birthday party. Now I know that to most people it seems as if every other weekend there is a party to attend, but we actually haven’t made it a habit to accept all the invitations we have received in the past. With 12 first cousins within a 10 mile radius, most under the age of 10, attending the mandatory family parties keeps us pretty busy. Likewise, when we hold a party of our own, just family can number in the 30’s we don’t usually add friends and acquaintances to the list and everyone seems pretty happy with this tradition. Our children have never even considered that birthday’s should be celebrated in any other fashion. Also Riley just isn’t the party kid of guy. Usually if the party’s inside, he will be outside or vice versa.
All that is thrown to the wind with my social butterfly of a daughter.
So today we went to Skate Station. Her first time ever to roller skate or be at a skating rink. My first time to attend a party where I would not know anyone else who was there, A few things have changed since my last roll around the rink, but most things haven’t. What’s new is inline skates and trainer skates. Lucky for her and various body parts these were available. They now have a Laser Tag arena and party rooms. What had not changed. The Disco lights and the Disco music. I swear it was the same soundtrack circa 1973.Surprisingly, most were still wearing the original 4 wheels skates of my youth. They still played Wipe Out and All Girl or All Boy skate, had races and reverse skate.
Unbeknownst to me ,the grandparents of her classmate were former coworkers of mine at the hospital. As we sat catching up, with other Moms, she asked me did Macy come from Russia too , like Riley? Yes ,I replied somewhat surprised by her question, then remembering that we worked together while we were in the process of our first adoption. So much for letting my daughter decide if and when she wanted to share her unique history with her peers .None of the other Mom’s seemed to acknowledge our exchange, but who knows. This got me thinking about all of the lengthy and sometimes heated discussions on the adoption board I frequent , about the adoptive history of our children and the way our families were built and that information being open for public consumption. Will those that know tell and who will they tell and in what light do they offer up these tidbits of your life? Will it positively or negatively affect our children, does it color peers, parents and teacher’s perceptions of our children, should you guard it with a nuclear defense or be matter of fact about it? Unless, after your adoptions you move to a new town or state with total anonymity, it is inevitable that sooner or later everyone just knows. May take 6 months or 6 years. I have never been one to avoid talking about our adoptions or our experiences and I am quite willing to discuss it with anyone interested in adopting or just honestly and sincerely interested in our story. I am lucky that I have never encountered any negative comments or questions or insensitive observations about it, so maybe I am naïve in what I may be setting myself up for one day. This leads me to wonder out loud here on this blog (please offer me your thoughts and comments on this) if the path to adoption is reflected someway in the attitude about others being privy to their journey to their children. Since we did not try for biological children, did not suffer the anguish and heartbreak of unsuccessful infertility treatments, IVF, miscarriages and all the money ,time and emotion spent on that treadmill first, does it somehow make talking about it easier? Was making the decision to adopt less intense for us or does the fact that we never had the dream of a bio child just the desire to parent make us less self conscious about sharing our decision with others? I don’t know the answers to this since I only have our own journey to relate to. I know some adoptive Moms who would have had a meltdown if they had been in my shoes today and someone nonchalantly offered up such personal info about their daughter in a group of other parents. It really didn’t faze me at all, and that is what got me to thinking. My daughter will quickly tell anyone that asked her that she was born in Russia. It is just a fact of her life. The thought has never crossed her mind that anyone should not know. Is her attitude a product of ours or am I taking my lead from her? Should I follow it or will she one day wish that I had been more protective of our roots as a family. Would my trying to keep it on a need to know basis cause her to be self conscious about her adoption or foster an attitude that there is a reason to keep it a secret. Now, I am not talking about personal birthmother history ,but just the general fact that she was adopted from Russia as an infant as was her brother. Not more personal and private details. What would be harder, her peers always knowing she was adopted and it becoming old news or one day at age 10 or 13 or 16 these same friends finding out. Will they want to know why it was secreted away and would that be more suspect and harder on her than if they had always known? Some parents seem to want to just forget the whole adoption road and hope that no one is ever the wiser, believing that this is the best and easiest route. I am not so sure I buy into that. Some are really distraught if they learn that someone that they did not personally elevate to status worthy of the story, knows. Am I too nonchalant about it or is it healthy that I have an “it is what it is” outlook on our family? Is it because our decision to adopt from Russia was our first choice and a not a second or third, makes it easier for us in some way or be more open about it somehow? Maybe that is why I cannot really relate to those who are advocates who tout keeping it close to the cuff that surrounds some adoptions. I feel that no matter what led you to adoption, praise the Lord that you were. No one can change the past, it is what you do with the present and the future that counts the most. I strongly believe that through adoption you become a parent in a way that other parents just cannot understand. That it is a blessing and that you are lucky beyond measure. The faith ,love, hope and courage it takes to become an adoptive parent is returned to you in unfathomable dimensions. But the bottom line is this.
We are just a family.
No more.
No less.
A normal, average, regular, good and bad days family.
A forever and always, through thick and thin family.
A real Mom, real Dad , real Kids.
Different yet so vastly the same as every other family.
I will even venture out and say more normal than many pure biological ones that I know.
In fact, despite my rambling today about our adoptive roots, I have gone weeks and months without having a single adoptive thought.
So maybe time is the answer. The farther away in time we get from our adoptions and the older my children become, the less of a focus it is.
The busier we are in the present ,the less time we have to contemplate the past.
The more adopted is what my children were and less of what they are.
I know that we will have many adoptive bridges in the future to cross and I am prepared for those.
Today the road is smooth and cruise control seems to be engaged.
No adoption bumps or detours in sight.
I’m gonna try and not let another driver run me off the road or cause me to lose my direction.
That is until my son or daughter decides on another destination.
Too bad parenting doesn’t have a MapQuest.

A Princess Lives Here Too

Reading back over my posts , it may seem as if I am the mother of one.I am not. I have an incredible, funny precocious daughter also.Her name is Macy,and although I am slightly prejudice.Once you meet her, you won't likely forget her. When you have a child with learning issues it sometimes becomes a balancing act and quite often the scale tips in their direction. It is not something they have ever been aware of or anyone else has ever noticed. But I must confess that in times of idleness or right before sleep my mind is more often dwelling on an issue involving my son rather than my daughter. They are so alike in so many ways, considering they are not my bio children or bio siblings. In fact, it would never cross anyone’s mind that either of those things were the case when seeing or meeting them. For one, they look just like my husband and I . They also look more alike than most genetically linked siblings. Both of their adoptions went very smoothly and each one took exactly 9 months from application to bringing them home. They were from the same orphanage, which we had requested. They are truly best friends and we have very little sibling rivalry. Here is where they differ. While my son was malnourished at adoption, did not talk until very late and did not walk until he was 18 months old, my daughter was the polar opposite. She spent two months longer than he did in the orphanage, but she was fat and sassy from day one. When we met her at 8 months old, she was already trying to walk, she was trying to talk and her outgoing personality was already front and center. By the time we brought her home at eleven months, she was walking . By the time we arrived home with her , having spent 5 days with us ,she was already saying Momma, Dada and ball. In English. And she hasn’t stopped talking since. She is self motivated and competitive. She has a passion for learning and soaks up everything like a sponge. At age 3, she sat at the dining room table for hours until she mastered writing her entire name because her brother was writing his. Finally. At age 5. At age 4 she decided she needed to learn to take a shower on her own. By the end of the week, she did. She can do about anything on the computer and mastered my digital camera so well, we bought her one of her own. She takes better pictures than her Dad. She is almost obsessed with drawing and art and will produce mass quantities of pictures that you can actually recognize everything that she has drawn. She was highly insulted last year at age 4, that she could not go ahead and start kindergarten. Telling me that quite indignantly that any rule that just went by your age and not when you are ready was ridiculous. (her words exactly).All summer she was worried that kindergarten would not be hard enough or that her classmates would be far behind her. Really, we had quite a few conversations about kindergarten curriculum. I assured her she had quite a lot to learn and they would find some way to keep her busy. Two weeks before school started she announced that she had to learn to read before her first day, so we began that night some intense Reading 101 at her direction. Two days later she had read through the entire collection of Dick and Jane. She loves school more than any child I have met. She is trying to decide between being a veterinarian, a dentist, a photojournalist or an artist when she grows up. She also recognizes that her brother is not quite like other older brothers. She’ll tell me that Riley just has trouble with words sometimes. She also is very compassionate that he is also behind her in academics despite being 2 years older. God surely placed a sister like her in Riley’s life on purpose, because not only does she just naturally help him but she also pushes him to keep up with her. She can carry on a quite adult like conversation with you about heaven and souls, recite every school, road and child safety rule ever written, the story line and moral of every Disney movie ever produced and critique her wardrobe and yours like a What Not to Wear Episode. She amazes, confounds and delights me everyday. With a little frustration, deep sigh and eye roll thrown in. On both of our sides. I am sure she is like most other 5 year old girls. Or 5 year olds in general. I really don’t have a basis for comparison. Comparing her to my son is not fair to either of them. Or to myself. But you can see why I tend not worry about her or her way in the world. I am not sure I would have the energy to. She makes being her parent very easy. I needed easy the second time around. So did her brother. I just wanted anyone contemplating or in the process of adopting from Russia to know that spending time, a year or more in an orphanage doesn’t always dampen the spirit. Without parents, without love and attention , without so many of those essential things does not mean the child’s own natural resiliency, strength and light will not shine through. It is possible to come through it unscathed and emerge a butterfly from the start. My son is just as much a blessing and full of light and personality. It just took him a little longer to emerge from his cocoon. You will be lucky to parent a child of either. I feel double blessed to have one of each. They have made us appreciate the differences and similarities more than we ever would have, together they have opened our eyes to relishing each accomplishment and to not take a single thing for granted. We know that the journey to an end can be more rewarding than crossing the finish line and sometimes veering off the path and not finishing can be more fun. That being the best ,while personally satisfying, is not mandatory.
My son may always need me a little more, my daughter a little less.
They each think they are my favorite. That’s the way it should be.
As long as it feels equal to them.
Or maybe it is equal just in different ways and times.
I guess mothering or being a Mom cannot be weighed or measured.
Except by how it fills your heart.
Your mind.
Your soul.

46, But Whose Counting

46 years ago today I was born in Asheville North Carolina. The first born of Vera Ann and David. When the nurse told my Dad he had a daughter, he told her "No, He was having a Boy". We never let him live it down. My Mom got a particular kick out it because my Dad and I had as close a relationship as any parent and child could.When we were being interviewed by our social worker for our homestudy she asked us about our childhoods and about our parents. She asked what our parents did right and what would we do differently than them. My answers were simple-They did everything right and I hope that I can be the same exact parent that they were. My husband told her the same thing .She seemed surprised, like that is not a common answer.I hoped that our children would look back at their childhood as fondly as I. I think that was the moving force that drove me to become a Mom, even at the age of 39 and after being married for 17 years. I wanted that same relationship with a child.So did my husband. We wanted to pass it on.I also think that is why we so easily chose adoption instead of having a bio. We were focused on the parent part, not the pregnancy part.All that my parents had taught me about being a part of family, the fun, the love , the memories. I knew it would be the one thing in life I would have regretted not doing.
This morning after my children left for school , I thought about where I was at 46.Or where I had been. I'd had two amazing parents, a idyllic childhood . School was fun, good grades came easy and I had lots of friends and participated in lots of activities.I went to college,joined a sorority(Chi Omega) graduated and went to work in a field I love. I got married and we traveled, never ran out of things to talk about and had more fun with friends and family than we can count.We'd had our share of tragedy.The sudden death of my father, 3 months after he had retired. His father's bout with illness that left him in a wheelchair. The death's of 3 of my 4 grandparent's and the death of my nephew at age 19 from Cystic Fibrosis. My Mom's late in life onset of a genetic neurological disease that has caused her to use a walker and wheelchair.My sister's divorce after 18 years of marriage, thrusting her back to work and caring for her two children.As I list these low points in my life, it looks like a short list for 46 years of life. I also see how so many of them had a silver lining. My father in law is doing great and I see now that because we did not have children when he was ill and recovering it allowed us to be there for him.After my Dad passed away, my Mom moved to Florida to be closer to her Mom and was there with her for several years before she died. My Mom is so grateful for that.Then my mother reconnected with an old high school flame, they got married and he is wonderful and really is a second Dad to me and a great grandfather.My sister is getting married in 3 weeks to an equally amazing guy and she is in love and more in sync in a relationship than she has ever been.Her kids are crazy about him too.My nephew was sick from the day he was born and pretty much every day of his 19 years. It was so hard to watch and I do not know how my cousin so bravely and gracefully handled it. It was a blessing in a way for me. It has made me especially thankful for my son and his issues. We may be struggling with reading, with speech , with other things.But he is blindingly healthy. He can run and play and be a child in every respect. We are not dealing with life and death. We are dealing with things that get better, we overcome and progress through.While I may be worried about his life in a sense ,I am not worrying about him dying. Not like she was. I see where every moment in my life put me right where I needed to be in order for my son to be my son and my daughter to be my daughter.
Today was my AH HA moment.
I realized that even if I could, there is not a single moment of my life, choice I have made, step I have taken that I would change. Because changing even one tiny thing would change who and where I am today.
Today I am a 46 year old Mom with a 7 year old son who has a spectrum disorder and a 5 year old daughter that will soon be out thinking me, I have a 24 year marriage with a man I still never run out of things to talk about.I have been to Russia 3 times instead of the maternity ward. Most days I never crank my car and I talk to my poodle. I love to go to the grocery store and I am a stain removal expert. Today I built a home for two hermit crabs and we are enthusiastically counting down the days to our next Disney trip.
I feel like the luckiest woman on the earth.
This is the present I am giving myself for my birthday.
Happiness
Thankfulness
Gratefulness
Contentment
and Cake.
I hope you get the same thing on your birthday.

YOUR VILLAGE CALLED...

So here we are sitting in front of the elementary school at 9 am March 2002. My son is looking at the school saying 'No Mommy" and I am saying It will be fun, lets go. He clings to me like a sea barnacle. We open the doors and we only have to take a few steps in and a few to the right to be in the speech room. In the beginning that walk seemed like miles. Riley screaming, the ST smiling talking softly as she peeled him off of me, then me making a quick exit out the door, closing it behind me and standing next to the wall with my ear pressed against it waiting for the deluge of tears to stop. At first feeling heartbroken that I was having to do this, but I knew I had no choice and the comforting words of encouragement from teachers who drifted by were also a great help.The genius of his ST would soon show through. She was always ready with an arsenal of distractions when we arrived. Bubbles to blow, balls to bounce,mirrors to make funny faces in and every toy and learning aid ever manufactured. Soon the crying went from 5 minutes , to 3 to one to none and he actually began to walk in the school on his own and I actually would retreat to my car to read for the h0ur.
I was learning as well.That his aversion to anything cold, slick or mushy were classic signs of oral sensory issues. That his drooling like Niagara Falls was a sign as well. His tendency to chew on his shirt collar or sleeve or a hard plastic toy also sensory issues. That he could not drink out of a straw or blow bubbles also sensory and speech related. All minor seemingly inconsequential things in life, they never caused any concern but added up to have big meaning.His hyperallertness to sounds loud or soft, sensory.His extreme dislike of any place crowded , confined or loud and low lit also sensory.
It was easy for us to gloss over these quirks because he was really as easy child. He ate and slept great. He was easy going and loved to play.He was very loving and affectionate. He was great at entertaining himself and had a great imagination. He loved the outdoors and was generally very well behaved.You only had to tell him No about something once and he got it.We knew we had it pretty good. In fact he was such a great child that a year after bringing him home, we ate our words about having just one and ventured back to Russia for our daughter.
Speech went great, he loved going ,everyone that he came in contact with treated him as a VIP and we began to see great progress.They were great at not only helping my son but also very thorough in making sure we knew the what and why's of the lessons and what we should be doing at home to encourage and support their efforts.In this I became an overachiever. Our house became speech and sensory central , every opportunity for learning and growth taken, and I strongly believe that you must learn all you can about language acquisition and the steps and become the at home therapist.Bribery works well to.
You also must cultivate patience, humor and a laisser faire attitude when it comes to your child and those around him in public whose curiosity or rude stares try and intrude into your world.It does become much easier and I am pretty oblivious to it.I have never tried to hide or secret away his issues or differences. Never been embarrassed or self conscious and neither is he. We take him everywhere and do everything. He has probably traveled more and experienced a broader range of places and things than most any other kid around. I know what an amazing ,unique ,smart and imaginative kid he is , how the everyday average normal part of him is so much larger and more present than the other stuff. He is just a normal 7 year old boy who loves airplanes, country music and playing the drums.Always says please and Thank you,Can shoot a mean game of basketball and hit a baseball over the house and can swim like a fish. He wants everyone but Mom to kiss him on the head(future girlfriends take note), won't eat rice, mashed potatoes or mac and cheese-all too squishy, may carry on an oddly formatted conversation with you or sing every word to the latest Kenny Chesney song. Is a great mimic of sounds and animals and is our car safety officer, making everyone has seatbelts fastened and will remind you when to turn on the turn signal.
There are moments that I am very afraid about his future-will he find a job or fall in love. Who will look after him when we are gone and how will his adolescent and teenage years transpire.
But then I look around at this village that has formed around him already. These friends and family members that love him. His teachers and therapists that are encouraging and hopeful about his progress.They have shown me that he can have a great future and they are helping him and us learn the life skills for ,well, for life.
I do not know where we would be today without our local public elementary school. Riley had attended since he was three , all year round. They so prepared him and us for kindergarten and welcomed him with open arms and a plan fitted just to him.They not only teach him academics and sometimes in inventive ways to match his learning style but they also put great effort in teaching him social skills which is just as important for a child that it does not evolve naturally. They believe in him as much as we do and it is evident every day when he runs happily to the school bus and equally on those days that things do not go so well. I am so happy that we gave our school and our community the chance to get to know our son, to surround him with acceptance and love and to be there for him forever if need be.A private school or private therapist may be able to give him a little more but probably not.He continues to amaze us everyday. I know a private school or Private therapy outside our community could not give the full spectrum of learning experiences, peer interaction and the teamwork feeling of being a card carrying member of our little village of Springville. You can't buy that kind of learning ,compassion and interest in your child. It is priceless.
The last few years my guiding light has been his speech teacher ,who is also his IEP manager. Vikki Rodgers. Please do not try and hire her away. I can say that my son has had a love affair with her and would be content to spend his entire days in her room. Her sense of humor and knowing when to be firm is something we have all come to rely on. Her openness and honestly with us has opened doors we never even knew existed. Her willingness to be bombarded by my thoughts, concerns , observations , suggestions and more than a little bit of overprotection of Prince Riley.She not only listens, she has the courage to tell me when I am being overly concerned,need to see how things go, or yes even, WRONG. But just as often she shares my concern, agrees with my ideas and the MOST important thing to a parent who is advocating for their special child is that she implements changes or ideas immediantly. That instills in us the confidence that she does care for our son and we in turn trust her judgement.Even her current maternity leave did not allow her to escape being our go to girl and connection at school.Sorry, Ms.Bikki. This is a most crucial relationship you need to have with whatever school your special child attends. It does not have to be a private school, a wealthy school or big school. The building, operating budget or aesthetics are not what counts. It is the people that teach there, the attitude they have about what they do everyday and their willingness to compensate, adapt,try new things and learn new approaches when it comes to your child. Our haven of education and the place where my son is learning to fly is in a small Alabama town where just about all the teachers know all the kids, we still have the homecoming parade and Christmas parade on Main Street and we just got our first traffic signal a few months ago. The therapy and lessons he is receiving here is first rate. And that is not just my opinion.
A few months ago we had him evaluated at the Sparks Clinic, the International Civitan Research Center for Children with disabilities. He was tested over the course of three days in Speech, Language, Hearing, Psychology,Vision,Occupational Therapy, Comprehension,Social skills,Autism screening, Choreographed observations. The went over his history from birth and every moment in between. He was diagnosed as PDD, Pervasive Developmental Delay, which is a milder autism spectrum disorder. We were thrilled. Some parents may have been devastated at the news, the fear of the LABEL. Not us, because I knew those three letters could be the key in his future education and opportunities . But the best thing they told us that his progress was amazing and for us to keep doing what we were doing in terms of therapy and school. They were amazed at what our small school was providing and accomplishing. They said all families should be so lucky to have such a great elementary school behind them as we did.My son still has a long way to go but it feels great to know that we are on the right road and traveling at a good speed. Fast enough to enjoy the ride, but not so fast that we are missing things along the way. That is one gift our son gives us each day, meeting people we never would have and learning to slow down and enjoy all that life has to offer.Something that far too many people miss in their fast paced,competitive, get to the top first ,be the best way of life that they are living and teaching their children to live also.I wish all parents could learn this lesson. That the very best things in life to savor are not the big achievements or awards but all those little, often missed things that happen hundreds of times a day that add up greater in number and richness than those events that instigate bragging rights.
We feel very rich and blessed in our little village ,in our little corner of the south.

CH-CH-CH-CHANGES

2000
The millennium.
New Frontiers and all that.
Well for most of the world the year 2000 was pretty much like 1999.
For us it was A Brave New World.
The first 2 months of the new year my world was an explosion of change and my son, well he was just exploding. He gained a pound a week for 16 weeks. He went from boney to skinny to lean to mean to chubby and well, down right fat. And sweat. And drool. Almost every picture of him during those first 6 months he is shiny with perspiration and a big wet lake of drool on his shirt. I felt like I should have been wearing a raincoat when in close proximity of him. But like all mothers, none of his bodily fluids bothered me. I think there must be a gene yet to be discovered in all mothers that makes us immune to such. Our doctor told is all was well, just his metabolism was in overdrive. The combination of plentiful food and intense catch up growth, my little blue eyed engine that could was in overdrive. It would all soon level out and it did, when he was about 2. Meanwhile, I was really getting to like this stay at home stuff. I tried not to think about the end of my furlough that was coming up in Feb., right after Riley had his first birthday. I had a good day care lined up and I had made the decision to change shifts at the hospital to better suit our family and lessen Riley's time in daycare. I was going into a 7on/7off 11am-9pm slot. The week started on Wed and ended on Tuesday. So I took Riley to day care at 10:30am and this gave us some morning time then Dad picked him up at 5pm. 3 days of this and then he had the weekends with Dad, then back to day care for Mon. and Tues. then 7 days home with me.This worked out great and gave him and Daddy some amazing bonding time. The weekends also gave Dad 10 straight hours of being on Riley duty for two days in a row. Dad gained a whole new appreciation of Mom's 3 months off . It was really 3 months ON!
March,April, May,June, July, August all speed by.
Riley reached his milestones, some right on time, some a little slow. He was only belly crawling until he was 18 months old and then on Aug.18, stood up and literally ran across the den.In the last 7 years we have seen this all or nothing approach to the world from him many times. He was talking ,slept great. Really an easy child.
All was fine until late August when Dad picked him up from daycare and saw a large child sized bite on the back of his neck.
The phrase "All Hell Broke Loose" would be an understatement.
That night my husband issued the only ultimatum he has ever uttered to me.
"Tomorrow turn in your notice at work"
That night was probably the only time in 24 years of marriage I have ever ,without comment or input, followed the "Obey" part of the marriage ceremony.
The next day I handed in my resignation and for the next two weeks I worked out my time, my mother and sister kept Riley.
I had been an at home Mom ,then a working Mom. I had spent time on both sides of the fence. For my husband and I and especially for my son, this was the absolutely best decision. It did not come without sacrifice or some tight financial moments. But it was always the right choice. Our grass was greener at home.
And 6 years and another adoption and daughter later, it remains one of the best things I have done for them.
I do think that God lead us to that decision because he must have known what the future would soon reveal for Riley and how much he would need my extra time and attention.
We were blissfully unaware that Riley's speech and some quirks were early indications of language delay and sensory integration dysfunction. I was not one of those competitive Moms, I was quite content to let Riley move at his own pace. I think when you have a child that had such a rough start in life and was probably closer to dying than living at one time, you tend to be so grateful that he is just there, you magnify how far he has come and you tend to skim over the areas where he is behind, I mean look how far behind the start line he was at the beginning. That he was still in the race was deserving of a medal.
Also our country and the world had been through 9/11. Shall I mention that 9/11 was also the day that we received the call from our agency that they had referral for us in Russia. At the exact moment the second plane was crashing into the WTC, my phone was ringing.
Joy, terror, excitement, fear, anticipation, trepidation all rolled up into one, me. We left 11 days later to meet our daugter ,then returned 7 weeks after that to bring her home. We were gone for 20 days and Riley stayed behind with my sister, Mom and my niece. Once home, like most Americans, we gathered our family around us and gave thanks and began to really appreciate the small simple moments of our life.
That is until you get the note from the Preschool Speech Screening test that said in so many words,
"RUN, don't walk to your nearest elementary school and their Early Intervention Speech Therapist."
Some Moms might have cried, some may have gotten a second opinion, some may have not done anything.
I RAN to the closest elementary school with my screaming 3 year old son who wanted nothing to do with it.
Should I mention by now I also had a 14 month old daughter that had been with us for a mere 2 months at this time, in tow.
Here is where the second chapter of our life begins.
I hope that this will be a tribute to everyone who came to work each day at this school and has helped us in the last 4 years and the many years to come because while
a woman I will never meet in Russia brought him to life ,
while my husband and I gave him a life,
But there is a group of people who are giving him a future, more than just employees just doing their job at SES.
The journey has been hard, heartbreaking, physically demanding, emotionally taxing and even frightening.
It has also been joyous, surprising,funny and endlessly rewarding and ever hopeful.
They are angels, heroines, life savers and they have given my son the wings to soar and solid ground to stand on.
It truly has and does take a VILLAGE.

We are Family

Let me try and not give every detail. I will hit the highlights. We spend 5 days in Moscow. It is cold and snowing. A novelty at first for us Southerners which will turn into a validation of why we choose not to live in the north. We shop, we eat and in between we became parents. We fell in love with Russia, the history and people. We can hardly sleep the night before we go home. Could be anticipation of 11 hours on the plane to New York, then another p lane to Atlanta and still another to Birmingham. In all we will travel for 20 hours before we arrive home at midnight. We pack our carryons with every imaginable item we might and probably would never need for our son. We say a tearful goodbye to our new best friends. Thanks to our travel agent who suggested we forgo the baby bassinet and spend the money on a regular seat ticket for our son. I truly believe that was the secret to our flight home. He ate, slept, played, pooped (Yes, we are toasting each and every one) and we had a wonderful flight. In fact, we breezed thru INS and through all the flights. To this day he is still a great traveler, be it a 10 hour car ride or the many plane trips we have taken. We make a promise to him and ourselves to return to Russia one day and show him his birthplace.
Arrival at midnight to a horde of friends and family, balloons and signs. No child could have been more welcomed into a family. Looking back at those pictures, I can not imagine what they were thinking. We thought he was the most beautiful baby we had ever seen. He wasn’t. He was skinny, had pink eye and looked pitiful. Beauty is the eye… or maybe Love is blind.
It was our dream come true.
I am now reminded of the saying “Ugly in the cradle, pretty at the table” and that has held true.
Our families and friends ,thankfully waited years to tell us how worried they were when they first saw him. We are surrounded by the best ones, friends and family that is and they have supported us emotionally, physically and enthusiastically for the past 6 years. I could not imagine doing it without them.
I was pretty impressed with myself as a new mom of 39. For the firsts 24 hours home. That is until my sister saw my ”Baby schedule” on my fridge. She laughed until she cried. You see, the orphanage had given us the daily schedule our son had been on. Being the well informed adoptive Mom , I had gleaned from others that keeping your child on a familiar schedule and gradually changing it helps in transition and attachment. Obviously my sister, 4 years younger but a veteran Mom had not been told.
Here was the source of her merriment
6am bottle
8-9am nap
9:30 breakfast
10-11 play
11-1:00 nap
1:00pm lunch
2-4pm nap
4pm bottle
5-6pm nap
6:30 pm dinner
8pm nap
10:00 pm bottle
10:30pm Bedtime
Ok, now it does seem a little, Stepford….More disturbing I actually did this…for about 5 days. The worse part was having to admit that my sister was right. Yes, Beth ,I said it in print to the world.
You were right.
Adoptive parents who may read this and have yet to bring their child home,listen up. Transition and change are inevitable. Be it sooner or later. But a happy, relaxed Mom who is tune with the schedule is by far the most important ingredient in a happy and attached baby.
I saved that infamous computer generated schedule and put it in his baby book. It is still good for a chuckle now and then.
I totally LOVE being a Mom and being at home. I had been a dedicated career woman since graduating from college. For 18 years I had worked a 40 hour week and then some, taking call and arriving at the hospital in a flash- day, night and holidays. I had my first job at 16 and worked weekends and summers ever since. Not because I had to but because my Dad instilled in us the drive to always be able to take care of ourselves. I was the Poster Child for Working Women Everywhere. We were the upwardly mobile couple, unencumbered by offspring. We were the Captains of our own Ship.
The thing is, it wasn’t a ship, it was a dinghy or a catamaran, maybe even a canoe. Something built for two and built for speed. Easily driven and didn’t take a lot of planning or fileing of a flight plan.
But now, our house was a home and we were a family. My husband was Captain of the ship and I was happily First Mate.
I LOVED BEING AT HOME!
I did not miss work, stimulating conversation or adult companionship. All a little too highly rated. But until you have something to compare it too, ya just don’t know.
How can you describe chocolate to someone. You can’t really know how delicious chocolate is, how once you taste it you must have it and how nothing else compares…without tasting it.
To me, becoming a parent was the same.
At the end of my life it would be the only thing I would have regretted not doing.
It is the best decision I have ever made and the most important j ob I have ever had. And the one accomplishment I am most proud and also most worried about doing a good job.
There is no manual and too many grading systems. I tend to grade on the curve.
Some days I curve up towards heroic ,some days merely great and others, well ,lets just say my kids are young and maybe they won’t remember those days.
Memory is a funny thing because I can’t for the life of me remember much before my name changed from Kim to Mom.
Some days Mom feels like a four letter word.
Luckily, most days the four letters spell LOVE.

Where's the Poop and other Special Firsts

I will get to that in a moment.
It is a day more important than the day we got married, really it is. We take champagne, a massive box of chocolates to the orphanage to pick up our son. Our SON. I love saying that, even now 6 years later. The new never wears off. We also take a case of formula and a case of disposable diapers. Not that I ever saw one on my son, but this is what they asked for, I would have delivered the moon if they had requested it.
We dressed up for the occasion. Always dress nice when pictures you will look at for eternity are taken, you will be glad you lugged panty hose, knee high black boots and your husbands wedding/funeral clothes across the ocean.
We walk in sign a paper and they take us back to the playroom. They had instructed us to bring everything he would need for him to wear and for the 2 ½ hour trip back to Rostov. We were basically getting a naked baby, no dowry included.
His primary caretaker brings him to us, gives him lots of kisses on the forehead and I am sure her Russian words were, “be happy, love him well and send us some photos.” With shaking hands we removed about 3 layers of clothes. No diaper just a long swath of cloth wrapped endlessly around his ,well, diaper region. Oh, My God, how skinny, light as a feather and doesn’t smell too overly good. Sorta vinegary. Thus my first discovery of the many uses of a butt wipe. I wipe him down, massage in some baby lotion and we proceed to diaper and dress him. He just watches with those huge baby blues, thumb ever present in mouth and utters not a peep. Can he tell we have no idea what we are doing? His clothes swallow him, not in length because he is along baby, but in girth. Shoes too big, so we end up tucking the ends of his pants into his socks. Coat and Hat, a requirement for children in Russia. More pictures with the Director, Kodak moment of our new family of three on the orphanage steps and we leave, while a large group of caretakers wave bye to us. In and out in 30 minutes. So quick and simple it was almost anticlimactic after the court ordeal.
Driving back he takes turns sitting on our laps(no car seats here) he looks around, cries softly for a few minutes then goes to sleep for the remainder of the drive.
That night the four of us celebrate with big Russian cigars and Russian beer. Christine and I try and figure out how and what and when to feed them, when to change them. Their son Patrick, who is older and much large than ours, will only drink formula, is not interested in a spoon or any food. My beanpole son, 3 months younger, will eat anything that gets anywhere near his mouth. Baby food, cookies, mashed up veggies, pulverized meat etc. They both require that their formula is HOT and the nipple has a hole in it so large that the liquid simply pours down their throats.
Riley does spit up often but not a big amount, we religiously give him the clear medicine in the small glass ampoules that they gave us before each meal. The only time he cries now is when we are finished feeding him. He opens his mouth like a small starving baby bird for more. I have no clue as to how much food I should feed him. That evening I put him in the bathtub with me for his first bath. He seems to enjoy it and gets a few “that’s my Boy“s from his Dad who is hovering over us. Dad is in charge of drying off, lotioning up, diapering and PJ’s. We finally put him in his crib beside our bed with his blue monkey and I stare at him until he goes to sleep. Which is quickly. Ok, I took some more pictures also. We creep down the stairs because, unlike Riley, who could and still does sleep very soundly, Patrick will wake at the merest hint of noise. He is also still like that today at age 7.
With our babies sleeping, us four new Moms and Dads sit for the first time and really relax. Which leads to endless giggles over what has transpired in the compound. The hysterical (to Us) naming of the ironing NUB( a small oblong piece of wood we iron on), which has snowballed into a whole new language among us in the last 7 years. We are the Nub Club, our kids are little nubbers and nubetts, we have a nubbin good time ,if your feeling amorous you want to get the Nub On, and after a particularly gruesome accident, John is now our mascot with his Nub finger. OK, you had to be there. We have an equally funny yet you had to be there story about my husband’s use of the word ”HOOOOOSH”, a word our friends Yankee ears had never heard and will now never forget.
Over the weekend we get to know our sons ,fall more in love with our sons and try to get this parenting thing down.The four of us bond in the sharing of this magical happening in a way we can with no one else. It cements our friendship for life. There are no other two people I would have wanted to share this journey with, John and Chris Hackett. Even if they do think the South is another country into itself. Only one thing is missing. POOP .Yes, Poop from our son. He has eaten us out of the house, peed extensively, but no Poop. Not a rabbit pellet, not a squirt not even a little gas. Nada. So I mix in some prunes with his food and give him apple juice.Two known instigators. Nothing. He is in no discomfort, no big or hard belly. He is just happy.
We have now begun the parent toilet patrol and news anchor. All parents can relate. Did he go, when ,how much and what did it look like? With only Pee to report, it gets pretty boring.
At 5:00 am the next morning we find ourselves standing on the tarmac ,in freezing snow and falling sleet waiting to board the plane for Moscow. We are at the back of the crowd, because in Russia , two women with infants strapped to their chests and ice hanging off their heads are no reason to let us up front or out of the weather. We finally climb icy metal stairs and claw our way to our seats. 4 seats in 4 different parts of the plane(again, fly business).
I pray , as I am bundled up and crammed into my seat to the point that I can only unbutton my coat so my son can breath, that he does not choose the next 3 hours to unburden himself of the treasure he has been holding on to for the past 3 days. I manage to give him a bottle, and he sleeps the entire flight.
Ah, Moscow, one step closer to home. We descend upon The President Hotel. It is opulent, huge, gorgeous as are our rooms. We have an hour to refresh and its off to the American Clinic for the medical exams for our babies. Moscow is amazing , the driving scary. At the clinic, an American doctor doing a fellowship in Russia exams our son and his medical report. Neurologically he is fine, underweight. When we show him the medicine they gave us he make s face and throws it in the garbage. He tells us there are only two things wrong with our son. He is a baby that spits up and he is lactose intolerant. Feed him as much as he wants , when he wants. The Poop, it will come. His body is just getting used to the new food and new quantities. This causes either constipation or diarrhea. Give plenty of liquids, be prepared.
Back to the hotel. We order in Pizza delivery, take baths and marvel at the amazing view of the Peter the Great Statue through our wall of windows in our room. Riley is happy laying in his crib and playing with some toys we have strung across the top.
All the months of waiting and worry have vanished like smoke into thin air, we are having the time of our life.
Do you smell something? I look accusingly at my husband as wives will sometimes do? Yes, but it wasn’t me , my husband insists. We turn and look down at our son who looks at us like ”What?”
Could it be finally, he has made us a present? Yes, that is the stupidest thing I had ever heard parents say and yet it is so right. We lay him on the bed for the unveiling. Wipes and fresh diaper at hand. Big Daddy slowly rips the tabs and there it is..
OH MY GOD !THE LARGEST EGG SHAPED HARDEST POOP YOU CAN IMAGINE!!!
He laid a wooden egg as large as a Faberge.HUGE,Like an ostrich.
No way that huge thing came out of that tiny butt with out some major screaming and writhing in pain.
But Riley just looks at us and smiles.
We erupt in laughter so loud and so long and so hard that I, a women of 39, of class and sophistication, not only had tears running down my face but pee running down my leg onto the antique rug under my feet. This illicits more laughter. Then we realize it really does smell bad and no way can it stay in our room over night. So we wrap it in a plastic bag and my husband ventures out to clandestinely get rid of it. I never asked how, I had my own stuff to contend with.
My only regret is that I did not take a picture of that egg. I am sure one day my son would “not” have appreciated the moment as we had.To the Embassy and then
Home again, Home again , Lickety Split.

Meet and Greet

I slept for most of the trip over (Thank you Ambien), woke up in time to stagger to the closet, uh, bathroom, reassemble myself and have breakfast. Looking back landing in Moscow, traveling to the other airport and flying 2 ½ hours to our region ,Rostov-On-Don is rather a blur. Foreign land ,foreign faces, foreign language. Then I realize, Moscow looks how I imagine NYC would, the people look and dress pretty much like ,well, Americans. Actually they dress better and seem to put a little more effort into looking good. Honestly, the women, I do not think I saw a woman that was not in full makeup, hair stylishly kept , bejeweled and high heels. Not a sweat pant, stretch pant or tennis shoe in sight.And almost no one is overweight. So glad I dressed for style instead of comfort My husband isn't minding the view either, Very short skirts, nylons and HIGH heels seem to be the outfit of choice. But I digress.
Plane-Aeroflot-Old but OK, sat in coach, (note to self), fly Business next go round. Our seats were not even together, I kid you not.
Land in Rostov , picked up by facilitator and two drivers in two very small cars. They know how Americans pack. We have Three large suitcases, two carry ons and a stroller. We then catapult out into the street, we are projectiles in a winner take all style of driving. Or may the best man win. Man is the appropriate term as we learn that less than 5% of women have drivers licenses. In the two weeks I would spend in Russia ,I never saw a single women driving. We arrive at our Group home. A pretty nice duplex in an upper middle class neighborhood .All the houses are surround by very high solid metal fences. We would come to refer to it as the compound. The first floor consisted of a foyer where all shoes are deposited. A small kitchen, a small den and dining area, glassed in porch, a small deck ,a bathroom where the toilet is in one room and the shower and sink is in another and two small bedrooms. Up a flight of the skinniest stairs I have ever seen are two rather large bedrooms. Ours has a small deck. I have no idea how they got our suitcases up those stairs. At the house is another couple who arrived the day before from New Jersey. They are adopting a 11 month old baby boy. Breakfast is at 8, be ready to leave at 9am. We fall in bed.
Breakfast- A huge meal cooked by the women who will stay and take care of us. Huge and filling. As all the meals will be. Fried eggs, thick slices of homemade bread with equally thick slices of bologna and white cheese melted on top, toast, a variety of amazing jams, fresh butter, sliced oranges, Hot tea and Juice.
We get to know our housemates. Two NJ Yanks and Two Alabama Rebels. We could not have been more different at first, more then alike as the days go by. Like us, they were first time parents, 35+. They were adopting a baby boy who had been born three months premature . They had already visited him once and he was a big healthy 11 month old.They prepared us for the meeting we were about to have.
I want to add that this couple has since evolved into our best of friends. In the 6 years since we met in Russia ,we have visited each other, vacationed together and been through three more adoptions between us. I truly believe that just as God choose our children ,he also had a hand in crossing our paths with them. I have spoken to him about how far he put us apart . She and I have laughed, cried, compared kids, development, parental mishap's and successes and truly she is the one and only person who can totally get it, when it comes to our children and our families.
The two weeks we spent together in the compound was filled with more laughter than I can ever remember. If you have the chance to stay in a group home or in a host home. Go for it. It will be a chance of a lifetime and a way to get to know your child's country like no other.
On to our son.
We drive for 2 hours to the town of Kamensk. Through miles sunflower fields and countryside that was really beautiful. We also drive by houses that looked as if they were built 50 to 100 years ago. Many with no electricity, no indoor plumbing. Outhouses behind almost all of them. Few had cars, we passed many buses. Kamensk is a coal mining town. Many tall apartment buildings in need of repair. Parking Lots almost empty. We passed many streets in town that were not paved. We pass through a gate and park at a large building, that looked better than most all we had passed. No signs at all of the children that reside inside. No sounds of children either ,we are escorted into an office that I am sure was furnished about 50 years before, at least. But despite the dismal first impression, I notice plants and flowers in the windowsill, it is immaculately clean and the quietest place I have ever been. We sit in silence, with our translator, who is a young man that speaks 5 languages and is very personable and talkative on the trip over. Once inside it is all business.
In walks a small petite woman with short dark hair, in a white medical coat and full of smiles. She is the Director of the Orphanage, and apediatritionrition. She picks up a large brown folder .Our translator tells us she will give us our son's entire history, at the end we may ask questions. .
She surprises us by telling us that she was on call the night our son was born and delivered him and that his Great Grandmother used to work as a housekeeper at the hospital. He had 4 siblings all healthy, BM had not been seen since leaving the hospital hours after he was born .He comes from tough stock, he was a 10lb vaginal birth. Medical , no surprises. As an afterthought she mentions that he does spit up a lot, but they will give us some medication to take with us to give him before we feed him.
Do we still want this baby and do we want to see him?
Those were the exact word's Are they kidding, YESYESYES
More slow torturous minutes pass, you'd think by now we would be Olympic Champs of the waiting arena. NO.
In walks ...who knows ,we are not looking at the caretaker, our eyes are glued on this small figure covered head to toe in many layers of clothes ,including a big thick knitted yellow and green cap. All we can see are big blue eyes and a thumb in his mouth. They hand him to me and he strains his neck to keep eye contact with the Russian ladies who are speaking to him , all I understand is Momma and Pappa. They are calling him Ivanya. All I can do is hold this precious bundle against my chest, kissing his cheeks and I cannot recall what else transpired. They all so reverently left the three of us alone. My husband quickly took off the hat and sweater. It was sweltering inside. Whatever luxuries and niceties Russians may lack, indoor heat is not one of them. We take pictures, OOH,AHH and COO over him for an hour. That's all we got. We repeat this visit, for the next two days, but they let us see him in a play room. A big barren room with no toys, a wooden low table with a plastic pad it, a piano and a wall of mirrors. No matter , we have brought enough toys to entertain several children at once. He never cries, cannot sit up by himself but does play with the toys and begins to interact with us. The last visit he falls asleep peacefully in my arms clutching a blue monkey we have brought him. Our translator takes polaroids of us with our son. Proof that we have visited him before court. Oddly, I have yet to see a single other child here. Or hear one. The explanation for that must be the very thick, solid concrete and plaster walls. I figured out our visits are right after lunch and during nap time. I think this is out of respect for the other children. For the ones not being visited.
Court Day.
Nervous, and Excited.
Look at the judge, keep answers short. Yes, it looks just like a court room look on TV. The judge is wearing black robes. The others in court are the Prosecutor, The Director of the Orphanage, The pediatrition of the orphanage and the regional director, a court reporter and our translator. The Regional Dir. stands and states that we have petitioned to adopt this child, they have no objections. The Director stands and gives a brief history of his relinquishment and that she has observed us with him and has no objections. The pediatrition gives his medical history, stating that he is very malnourished, signs of a serious GI issue and needs to be adopted by us and seen by our doctor at home ASAP. (Um,say what?). Then the judge eyes us, and asks who will speak for us. My husband stands, she asks him a few non personal questions ,then asks him why we want to adopt this baby, given his medical issues. My stoic husband dissolves in tears, the first time I have ever seen him tear up ,let alone cry. Pass the Kleenex, now everyone in the room is crying, even the Judge is wiping her eyes. So I take over.
Why this child, why this country, why now?
How do your families, communities feel about it?
Why not adopt from the US?
How will you care, provide, educate and entertain him?
I answer.
THEN she turns to the Regional Director. And an argument of sorts ensures between them, with a few eye rolls from the RD and a couple of finger points from the judge. By now, I am starting to have a meltdown. Is it just me or does anyone speaking russian sound mad and pissed off?
The judge then speaks to our translator and he turns to us, blood draining out of his face. It seems a piece of paper is missing from our son's dossier. Seems there is supposed to a signature from the BM or any relative stating they agree to the adoption. WHAT!!? How did we get here without that? I think the attitude the RD had peeved the judge. She assures the judge she can get it and the judge tells us to return in two days to complete the adoption. WE leave in shock. Back at the house , our facilitator, who is a childhood and long time friend of the judge assures us that all will be fine, that the judge is just trying to make a point with the woman. Since the BM's whereabouts are unknown, our facilitator and the RD must drive that night 3 hours to the Great grandmother's house and back. They leave at 5pm and return at midnight. A half sheet of paper with 4 handwritten lines from the grandmother stating that she does not know where the BM is and that she agrees the adoption. We have that piece of paper. The next day was hard for us because the other couple got to pick up their son. But it was a good distraction as we waited for our SECOND court date, as it took the 4 of us to figure out what to do with one baby.
2nd Court Day-Same crowd , RD had a much different attitude. Judge enters, peruses the paper ,then leaves. About 30 minutes later she return, reads the court decree that states that we are now the parents of Riley Will and she has waived our 10 days and wishes us the best. She is all smiles. Just another day at the office.
Thursday, Nov. 4th, a family is born.
Friday we get to pick him up.
We can now breathe, my husband faxes and I phone .
Add a new branch to the family tree.

Movement

Two days later we became parents, sorta. Well…yes, in the way that other parents-to-be feel after seeing that first ultrasound and confirming ,the “it” has a face, arms and legs, a beating heart..a life. Never before had a slim white FedEX envelope held so much promise, trepidation , hope and a future for 3 people. My husband, a tad too slowly for my nerves, opened the envelope and out slid 3 sheets of paper and a plain black video cassette. No fanfare, no drums rolling. Just a faint tingling of the spine. The front sheet was a color picture of a 7 ½ month old baby boy, in a pink floral shirt and light pink overalls (A Boy right?) being held by a floating pair of arms, hair sticking out all over his head. And the largest, roundest, lightest blue eyes and chubbiest cheeks we had ever seen. Be still my heart. Next was two pages of ,quite frankly, horrendous sounding medical stuff. Taken a bit calmly because we had studied Dr. Downings explanation of Russian medical diagnostic procedures for newborns and medical terminology. My 20 years in the medical field also helped. And my endless hours reading and researching every thing every written or experienced about children adopted from Russia. We were ready, willing and able to tackle whatever came our way.
Baby Ivan was born on Feb 3, 1999(the exact day we sent in our application,-now cue the chill bumps). At full term he weighed 10 lbs and was 22 inches long and had a 7-8 APGAR. Big , healthy baby. Negative for all Diseases. Heart, Lung, Limbs, Motor ,Eyes, Ears, Abdomen-All Normal.
Nervous System- Perinatal CNS Disorder and Myatonic Sydrome.
Two Russian terms common on most all newborn medicals.
Only illness since birth- a small rash and a cold.
Examinations of him from 1 thru 6 months-all normal.
At 6 months he weighed 14lbs and was 27 inches long, normal head size. Only health note was a change in feeding directions.
I would hope so, only gained 4 lbs in 6 months, Jeez. Now on to the video. It began with a middle aged Russian lady holding a very cute, but now shaved head baby boy. No mistaking those eyes and cheeks. He looked around , smiled grabbed toys held out to him as someone off camera spoke Russian baby talk to him. While keeping his other thumb firmly in his mouth.
Then, much to our surprise, they stripped him naked and laid him on his stomach on a couch, circa 1950.
Mom and Dad, I have nothing to hide.
He was a loooong and skinnnny baby. You could literally see every rib and every vertebrae in his spine. But I knew some grits and gravy would fatten him right up. That loud crash you here is us falling in love , completely and unconditionally.
We immediately faxed our acceptance to our agency and began watching and rewinding this 5 minute slice of heaven over and over and over and over…well, you get the picture for the next 5 weeks, until we got our court date. Ok, we take time out to get his room ready. And shout it from the roof tops. You might think our first referral experience would have made us a little hesitant with our emotions or protective of our hearts this time. NOPE, That shouting from the Rooftops you heard was us. But at quite moments or late at night my mind drifted back to that first little boy and the guilt and hurt that remained . What would become of him???
Then our agency called my husband at work and told him we would leave in 2 weeks , Oct 28 to bring our son home. Court was on the Nov.3, home on Nov.13th. Then the flurry of buying him clothes, not to easy to fit a long skinny baby. Which by the way is still a long skinny 7 year old. Then of course is the packing, unpacking, repacking of our stuff. For a southerner to be packing for cold Russia does not come naturally. I read so much crazy stuff…Take your own toilet paper, take your own food, only wear black, don’t wear jeans. Don’t Drink the water, run from Fruits, beware of vegetables, question the meat. So that leaves beer, vodka and what? And then baby stuff. At least when you give birth things start our simple, the smallest clothes, the smallest diapers, First step Formula, no food, tiny bottles, just socks no shoes…..so even the First Timers can get it mostly right.
But we First Timers were starting with a 9 month old. What could or should he be eating? What would he eat? How to bathe him? Everyday? Did he need shoes? What size? Toys? Stroller?
Diapers? Too many brands, too many styles , too many choices of Everything!!!! Shampoo, soap, powder ,lotion, butt cream,-When , where, how much?? Medicine-Will he need it and what kind and how much to give? Will I over medicate or under treat-Zonk him out or Rev him up? Will they know we are just winging it, Does On the job Training count...Do they take off points for that, can we fake it long enough to just get him out of the orphanage ? And you thought the paperwork and financial part of adoption was the hardest.
I worked in the Operating room as a radiographer and they gave us a very nice shower. I was taking 3 months off with my son. Returning to work right after his first birthday to a 7on/7off position instead of my M-F 7-3, so he would have the most time with us and the least time in Daycare.Husband’s company said, Go, have Fun, take your time and we’ll pay you for it and congratulations.
Here’s my passport ,
Here’s my ticket, All aboard.
We climb aboard Delta to JFK then to Moscow. I carry a diaper bag full of cameras ,snacks and reading material and my husband carries a stroller with no baby and a carry on filled with copies of every piece of paperwork we had assembled, info from our agency, Russia guidebooks and cigarettes he will not be able to smoke for many hours, several time zones, thousands of miles and a world away..
Stewardess, bring me a drink, turn on a movie.
I HATE to FLY. There were no boats to Russia. Feed me, ply me with liquor keep me occupied so I won’t think about crashing into the ocean or crashing into parenthood. All of a sudden I cannot remember what my husband and I had been doing for the last 20 years we have been together. Really what? My life now consists of everything from this moment forward. It is as if I have just now at 39, started living or living my life. No one could have every told me or made me believe it would feel this way or that I would be here, hurdling through space on my way to Russia and to a baby boy.
Who goes to Russia, who do I know that has ever adopted?
We have become Pioneers of our families,
Explorers to our friends.
Mom and Dad. To Ivan
Soon to be Riley Will….

The Conception....

And so it began, our journey into pregnancy. While the OB did not probe my physical self, our social worker probed everywhere else. Our childhoods, our parents, our finances, criminal history, medical stats, our friends and our house. Did we have an indoor bathroom, really therew as a space for that.
What was our discipline style?
Didn,t know then, not sure now. Depends on the day of the week and time of the month.
Plans for educating our children?
Your supposed to have a plan even before you have a child. Ummm O.K. The school down the street.. I am hoping for a plan now ,say by the time they are in High School.
How will you teach them about their heritage?
Umm , how will I teach myself about their heritage.
Anyway, she thought we would be fine parents (she did have a degree in this ya know) and all the other paperwork got done pretty quickly. Helped to have a friend who was a Notary and pretty much notarized everything , no questions asked. We started assembling our dossier in March, sent it off to Russia in May. We did have to answer some questions about what type of child we wanted. A question many seem to struggle with, but were quite simplistic about it. Didn't care what gender, not too strict about health, wanted as young as possible but open to any age really. Did not plan on using an adoption specialist to evaluate our referral. Made the only decision about ethnicity we would make in choosing Russia. Pretty open to anything. We were ready to be parents, knew a child out there was ready for a family. Just connect the dots.
Our families and friends had no inkling of what was brewing in our life. It felt like a delicious little secret, besides other than the paperwork we had done, not much to tell yet. But when we were getting close to getting a referral, we thought we better let the proverbial cat out of the bag. So at my sister's one night, when the family was gathered, my husband nonchalantly stood up and announced were adopting a child from Russia.Pandemoniumium did not ensue. Why weren't they shocked that we, married 17 years, 38 and 42 years young who were quite verbal and happy about our choice to not have children and not having endured years of infertility, had just decided out of the blue to go to Russia to adopt. I still can't figure out why they took it so calmly. They were excited, they were supportive , they waited anxiously for any and all details. They threw me showers and treated me just like any other expectant Mom, they just weren't surprised, so it seemed. Maybe one of them will post here why it seemed to them a natural thing for us to do. Never once then or since have they really questioned us why then or why adoption? Why expensive adoption and not much cheaper Bio? They just accepted it and our children as if they had always known this was what we would do. It was at the same time wonderful and yet perplexing in their reaction. My husband's parents and family also took the news excitedly and my father in law could not keep from telling everyone, and I mean everyone, that he was getting a grandchild from Russia. And as a footnote, let me add that my husband was the only male in all of his side of the family to carry on the family name. Now in some circles this may have caused some genetically based stirring, but they were genuinely thrilled that our yet to be met son would be carrying on the family name. Put that in your Bio pipe and smoke it, I say.
So now we wait...June, July, August. August first , THE CALL.
They were sending us a video of a 15 month old little boy who they thought had a palate cleft. Meaning it did not involve the lip, or teeth, just the roof of his mouth. Sure we said, we could fix that, send it on. The next day, I sat on my sidewalk waiting for the Fed Ex man, A company I would form a close and personal relationship with during the coming months.
5p.m. video delivered. I wouldn't dare open it until my husband got home. A true test of patience and virtue.27 minutes later he arrived. We read the medical first about a little boy named Roman. Then we anxiously watched a 5 minute video of a little boy with a head full of curly brown hair, crawl, pull himself up and eat some soup from the largest spoon I have ever seen. No evidence of a cleft anything. We immediately called our agency and accepted his referral, then called everyone else. We made copies of his pictures, posted them everywhere at our house and everyone else's. And he had a very large circle of family and friends who loved him from thousands of miles away.
We begin the wait for our court date.
Then on August 20, as we were getting ready to leave the house to attend my brother's birthday party, the phone rang.
THE CALL, just not the one we had expected.
Seems our son, that is what he had become to us in the three weeks since we had first seen him, was no longer eligible for adoption. The world stopped turning, birds went silent and my pulse was deafening in my ears. Seems he had been not so much been abandoned as much as left behind when his mother was arrested for something and did not tell anyone about her son. She had been released from jail and showed up to claim her son 8 months later.
Devastated, does not begin to describe what I should have felt.
Had every right to feel. Shock, Anger, Heartbreak.
Our agency felt as bad and as shocked as I was. But I also felt something shielding me from much of the pain, God maybe. Looking back, God definitely. Because the next words she spoke were the ones that really changed our life. She told me that she knew we would need some time, but along with the news about Roman they had received another referral for an 7 month old boy. She gave me some sketchy stats on him and told us to think about it and let them know if we wanted to consider him. He was very underweight but otherwise healthy. And as if someone else was speaking for me , I said , yes, go ahead and send us his info and video. And that is really where our story begins.

In the Beginning.........

I no longer drive a two seater sports car.
I no longer set my alarm and rush to the office.
I no longer have weekly dinner dates or monthly mani/pedis.
I once used cloth napkins folded into Martha Steward inspired shapes and I actually cooked from Epicurious.
I now serve ketchup at every meal.
I actually teared up when they announced a SuperWalmart was to be built in our small town,tears of joy.
I unashamedly love my minivan, can't remember the last time I used my tub and I actually think toys strewn all over the floor are a security measure in case anyone breaks into my house they won't make it past, well .....anywhere.
What could possible have brought about these changes to a perfectly planned out life.
Loss of job, loss of husband, loss of mind.
Nope, just three trips to Russia in a two year time span, $50,000 cash and two of the most incredible children ever.
I find myself soon to be celebrating my 46th birthday.
I have a 50 year old husband of 24 years and a 5 and 7 year old.
Yes , I am fashionably a "mid life" parent, I prefer late bloomer. And yes, most of our long time friends have kids in college and even grandchildren. We are all celebrating empty nests of some sort.Theirs the "kids have flown the coop" kind and me the "no kids from 8-3" kind as my youngest starts kindergarten next week. A few are still waiting for that celebration, having unwittingly raised kids that seen to never want to leave.

I worked for almost 20 years as we lived the life of upwardly mobile 20 and 30 somethings, lived well and traveled at a moments notice and snickered at friends carting kids and stuff everywhere, big cars that could accommodate more people and stuff than I cared to travel anywhere with. They juggled work and money and aged beyond their years.
They salivated over the idea of a good cheap reliable babysitter.
What were they thinking.
They were in the Prime of their life.
Or so they thought.
Or so we thought.
We were DINKS and happy with our choices, our 401K, our poodle and our successful birth control.
Then we built our dream house. Then, we looked at each other and I said now what? My dear husband looked at me warily. A few days later , during a quiet dinner of Standing Rib, rare and wine, listening to some Bruce Hornsby,
I uttered that 4 letter word that would change everything.
KIDS. Kids, he whispered. Yes. I said. KIDS
We have been together 20 years, married 17 .We have worked, traveled and built. What are we going to do from now on?
He looked puzzled.
Kids.
And then he smiled, I smiled and it was decided.
Well , almost.
Because although at 38 and 42 we were certainly not over the hill or out of fertility range.,but for some reason or preordained kismet we both thought that the usual get pregnant/give birth scenario had been done time and again by friends and family.Old news.
We thought adoption sounded much more..Fun...Exciting..More us.
We immediantly started researching our options: foster,domestic and international.
We went to a Foster Parent meeting, left knowing that wasn't our path. Too iffy.
Domestic seemed too much of an advertising contest, left a bad aftertaste. Too iffy.
We loved to travel, so international it was. We were honest in knowing we did not want to be an ethnically diverse poster family and did not live in a very ethnically diverse region.
So on Feb.3 1999 we sent in our application to adopt an infant from Russia. Let the games begin.