Happy 4th Birthday, Casey!

Today is Casey's 4th birthday. And for the first time, I think, he actually understands what is going on! He picked out this Thomas cake. And he's sleeping with the little wind-up train as I write.

We actually celebrated his birthday twice. Once last night at his favorite restaurant (Red Robin), and then again today at My Kids Clubhouse, which is his favorite indoor play place. He had fun both times. Here are a few highlights. Suffice to say that I can hardly believe my little boy is actually 4 years old. I remember commenting once that time seemed to go faster after I got married. Well multiply that by a billion once you have kids!

Dinner at Red Robin

In attendance were Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie Tiffy, Mark & Godmother Ann, Marcie, and of course-- us. Casey was a little distracted and didn't really eat the pizza. But he did play with Grandma (and his new birthday hat) for a while:

And he did crawl up into Ann's lap to enjoy the entire restaurant clapping and singing happy birthday to him:

And of course, there were the presents. Casey loved opening them all-- the paints, the books (boy do we love books), and the Cars toys from his sister. Of course the shake 'em King car won the prize for the night of the most-played with toy (he took it to bed with him last night), but we have read the Where's Waldo style Cars book no fewer than 5 times since last night. Anyway, here are a few snapshots of gift opening. And a special thanks to Mark for being our personal photographer for the evening!

Yes, that last shot is of him using his new camera to take a photo. He also took one of his new "The King" toy.

Casey's Birthday Party with Friends

This morning we continued the celebrating with a party where his school friends came to play at the My Kids Clubhouse, a great indoor play place in our home town. I'm not going to post many photos from this experience-- not because Casey didn't have a blast (he did), but because I don't feel comfortable posting a bunch of photos of kids from his class on the Internet for the world to see. First, here he is playing on the slides:

And here are some photos of the birthday song. We used our last Lotus candle-- one of the ones my bought and brought back with us from China. It always gets a big wow from the kids, and even though Casey looks a bit frightened, this was his third time seeing it. It was a big hit with his friends.

If you'd like to see a little video of the kids singing happy birthday and Casey blowing out his candles, click here.

We opened presents after we got home, and Jason's mom joined us. It was a huge help with Marcie while Casey tore through the gifts. We were trying to slow him down so that we could do thank you notes as we went. One of my favorite things about birthdays with Jason's family is his mom's rendition of Happy Birthday. She sings it to the birthday boy or girl in Chinese-- I think Cantonese. It's the same tune, just different words. You'd think I'd know all the words after all these years, but I still don't. But I love the song. And of course, Jason's mom sang it for Casey while we were at home.

In Other News

Though the rest of the day was relatively uneventful, there are a few newsworthy items to share. First is that Marcie has finally uttered the magic word. You know, the one I have been waiting for. Mama. She said it today four times, and each time to me. She's had a word for Grandma and for Daddy for a while now (Daddy is Dad-ow, by the way). She's even been saying: all done, more, duck, cow, ow, uh-oh, up, down, and good girl. But today she said Mama. What a glorious sound! I wish she were feeling better (she has yet another cold). Check out these rosy cheeks:

I should get back to studying. Tomorrow is my first day back to school. Thanks to all the people wishing me luck on my last semester of law school (God willing). I just spent the last half hour reading in the bathroom while Casey took a bath and a shower. He woke up around 10pm to go to bathroom. That never happens. Which tells us we need to keep him home from school tomorrow-- poor kid. I was half tempted to use Desitin on him! At the start of this post, he was snuggled in his own bed with his wind-up Thomas and one of his Lightning McQueens, and the Birthday Thomas he got from a friend today, and the Sally. Now he's gathered them all and is sleeping in our bed, where he'll be until I transfer him later tonight.

Casey's Birth Story-- Part II

I left off with Jason agreeing to stay with me instead of driving an hour up to Columbus to pick up my mom. . .

Instead of schlepping through the soft snow, Jason and I stayed with Angie and played cards and chit-chatted. Angie told us about her two children. She told us how she had wanted to be in the hospital over the weekend instead of the middle of the week so they wouldn't miss her. Their father was going to spend the weekend with them anyway. She explained that she had been away for a while and the kids, then around age 4 and 7, thought she had just gained a lot of weight. They didn't know she was pregnant. We talked about how helpful her parents were. We talked about how we picked Casey's name-- and his middle name in particular (which is my maiden name). When they came around with the paperwork for his birth certificate, Angie kindly handed it to us and asked us to fill it in so she could sign it. I was a little surprised she didn't want to pick out a name for the baby, but she told us she hadn't picked any of her kids' names, so this wasn't a huge deal to her. I thought about how lucky we were that Angie really wanted this to be our child from the start. We also played cards. We taught Angie how to play crazy 8s.

So we left off at 10am, when they broke Angie's water. The doctor commented to Angie at the time that the baby seemed to have a lot of hair. We weren't in the room for this procedure, so we got the information from Angie-- though, in retrospect I have to wonder how they could tell that from breaking the water.

Then, around 10:30am, Angie finally asked for some pain medication. This was right around the same time, I think, that Tina (our facilitator) showed up. She had driven across the state of Indiana and part way across Ohio to be there for Angie. They gave her something to "take the edge off," but when I asked her if it helped, she just said it made her feel funny, but it didn't really dull the pain. By 10:45am, she was dilated enough to get an epidural, and they sent in the anesthesiologist to do the epidural. At this point, they moved us into a birthing room. This room was much bigger than the original room, which barely had enough space for two chairs alongside the bed.

In it was a bed, a station for the baby following the birth, a scale, a rocking chair, and a small-ish television on the far side of the room. We turned on the television to Lifetime. I remember because Jason joked, "You women are all the same!" The sign near the door said that only two people were permitted to be in the birthing room with the mother. But no one said anything when we showed up, along with Angie's mom and Tina, the facilitator. We left the room each time they did an epidural so Angie would have some privacy, and Jason and I of course offered to leave the room any time Angie wanted.

The anesthesiologist took about 15 minutes with epidural. He had some trouble-- and Angie complained that it didn't work. By 11:10am, the nurses realized there had been a problem with it, and they paged the anesthesiologist to return. He attempted the epidural a second time. Again, he struggled. Angie commented that he had given up and left. By 11:30am, the obstetrician was in the room with us, and they were telling Angie it was time to start pushing. I remember the doctor calling out: "PUSH. pushpushpushpush. PUSH. pushpushpushpush." Angie's mom was on one side of her, helping hold her upper body up. Tina was next to her. And Jason was helping hold up Angie on the other side, and I was next to him.

Around 11:45am (only 15 minutes later), the doctor commented that she'd need to really push or they'd have to go to an emergency c-section. I didn't realize it at the moment, but apparently Casey's heart rate had started to drop. Angie pushed. Hard. The doctor said she could see the baby's head. The doctor squirted a bunch of iodine-colored liquid all over Angie (in fact, maybe it was iodine). Then she grabbed a pair of forceps-- which were wide and two separate pieces of equipment (the delivery was considered one with "low forceps") and reached in to help slide Casey out.

It seemed like he practically flew out of Angie. The doctor lifted him up and asked if we wanted to cut the umbilical cord. Of course we did. Jason did the honors-- he said it was much tougher than he thought it would be. They counted the three chambers of the umbilical cord and moved Casey over to the station to clean him up and to do the APGAR tests. I followed Casey over to the table, where the nurse said it was okay for me to touch him. I mostly held his leg, as he wriggled and squealed and screeched and screamed. They asked us to cut the umbilical cord a second time here, closer to his belly button. Then they carried him to the scale, where he weighed in at 6 lbs. 12 oz. Somewhere in there, I managed to snap a couple photos of him on the table, and him at the scale. And Jason got one of him being footprinted.

They sat me down in the rocking chair with a bottle of sugar water. He cried and cried and cried. Casey didn't want the sugar water. Jason tried to help me feed him, and he eventually calmed down.

In the meantime, the doctor was checking out Angie to make sure she was okay. I asked Angie if she wanted to hold the baby-- to see him. And she said no. So did her mom. So we followed the nurses to the nursery with Casey to give him his first bath.

In the nursery, we bathed him by holding him under the sink. They showed us how to swaddle him, then they sat me in the rocking chair in the nursery to try feeding him some more. One kind nurse told me I could even try to breast-feed Casey if I wanted to. But I didn't. I couldn't be one hundred percent sure Angie wouldn't change her mind, and I didn't want those hormones coarsing through my body. Plus I hadn't done any research, and I just didn't know what to expect. So bottle-feeding it would be.

The hospital social worker showed up right around then and told us that the maternity ward had some extra space, and they'd arranged for us to have our own room with Casey. The state would be picking up the costs for the first three days in the hospital until Angie signed her paperwork-- and as long as we didn't eat the hospital food, the room was free to us. Of course we jumped at this opportunity. We didn't use the shower or anything (though I suspect we could have because they actually gave us a room with a private shower; all the rooms were private). But we had our own space, four doors down from Angie.

A few hours after the delivery, after Angie woke up, I walked down to her room to see if she wanted to visit with Casey. She said she did. She explained that Tina, the faciliator, told her it was hard to say good bye when she hadn't even said hello. She also revealed that the epidural hadn't kicked in until after the delivery. Nice timing.

I returned to our room, and placed Casey in his wheely basinet, and I wheeled him down to Angie's room. I put Casey in her arms, and Angie commented how beautiful he was. We agreed. We asked to take a photo of them together, but she declined (she agreed the next day). At some point that afternoon, the adoption agency social worker Danni called. She couldn't believe we were all hanging out together in the same room! We offered to leave the room so she could have some privacy, and I don't remember if we did or not. Apparently that kind of thing is pretty rare.

My mom showed up around 1:30pm. We talked about how funny it would have been if Jason had missed his son's birth because he'd gone to pick up his mother-in-law from the airport! We spent the afternoon in Angie's room. Her mom came back later in the day and agreed to hold the baby for a while. And Tina came by for a while and hung out with everyone.

When the night came, we offered to let Casey stay in the room with Angie. I told her if she wanted, she could just call me to come feed him whenever he woke up in the night. Angie said, "No thank you. I don't need that middle-of-the-night stuff!" And we all laughed. Casey and Jason and I slept in our own room together that first night. Our first night together as a family.

The next day, Tina left. Angie was getting ready for a medical procedure, and they brought her some paperwork for Casey-- Angie told them to bring the paperwork to us four doors down and that she'd sign it after we completed it. Yet another example of her generosity.

That evening, while we were in Angie's room and she was holding Casey, her mom came with her two kids. Haley, the oldest said, "Mommy has a new baby!" And Angie said, "This is Karen and Jason's son Casey-- would you like to see him?" Of course they wanted to. I remember them so clearly-- in fact, Bryce was 4 years old-- the age Casey will be tomorrow. I remember buying him a soda from the machine in the waiting area. And now that Casey will be 4, I'm super-impressed by how articulate he was at 4 years old.

Angie went home that afternoon, I think. We stayed at the hospital with Casey. It was strange to be there with him and without her-- like something was missing. We still hadn't even told Jason's mom about Casey yet. We didn't want to get anyone's hopes up until papers were signed. But Angie gently prodded, "What does Jason's mom think about all of this?"

So finally we had to call her and tell her. I wasn't on the phone when he told her, but he claims the exchange went like this:

"Hi, Mom. Sorry we got tied up and stuck you with the dogs for some extra time. It's been really snowy in Ohio."

"That's okay, son. I hope you had a good time."

"Oh we are, Mom. I just wanted to say hi to Grandma."

"There's no Grandma here."

"Yeah there is, Mom. YOU. You're Grandma. We are in Ohio because one of the birthmothers we've been talking to had a baby boy and she picked us to be his parents. That mean you're a grandma."

At that point, the phone was silent, and all Jason could hear was screaming in the background. Shouts of joy and jubilation. Jason's mom was, needless to say, ecstatic. (And as a side-bar, in the four years since Casey's birth she has forged quite a special relationship with him!)

Of course, nothing was final until Angie signed the paperwork terminating her parental rights. And that couldn't be done for 72 hours following Casey's birth. And because Angie had had the medical procedure, she wasn't really in any condition to sign such important paperwork 72 hours after his birth. Somehow while we waited Jason and I managed to eat three meals a day, shower, buy baby clothes and a car seat and a stroller (because we had nothing ready for a new baby!) and take probably hundreds of photos. I actually kept a hand-written journal of everything, which I will share with Casey some day when he is older. And I'm really glad I did because it's all such a blur already.

On the 19th, when Angie showed up at the hospital to sign paperwork, she stopped by our room first. As Casey's legal parent, she had to take him with her to sign the paperwork. And we, of course, had to "let" her. After four days with this child, the next 2 hours would be insanely nerve-racking. It was out of our hands. . .

And you all know it's a happy ending for us because Casey is still our son. I asked Angie what happened in that room-- the room we went into after she did. The room where we signed the paperwork agreeing to be Casey's parents. Where our lives as parents legally began. She admitted it was much harder than she thought it would be. Having him in the room with her made her ache for him. And even though she knew that placing him with me and Jason was the right thing to do-- he'd grow up with a mom and a dad in a diverse and populated part of the country, and he'd grow up still knowing her and his half-siblings-- it was still so hard. Because she loved him so much. I think she went through a lot of kleenex during that meeting. But she did sign the paperwork. And in doing so, she changed our lives forever. I could never thank her enough for the joy that she has given us. For helping us feel more complete as a family unit.

In the meantime, Casey's billirubin count was off and there was some talk of keeping him another day in the hospital because of the jaundice. Which of course we didn't want. After some re-testing, they decided it was minor, that he was eating well, and they let us go.

Jason, my mom, and I joined Angie, her parents, and her kids at their home for a delicious home-cooked meal (our first one in well over a week!). Angie's mom Linda made Texas sheet cake (which she makes every time we visit). There was ham and biscuits, too. We looked at old photo albums and just hung out with the newest extension to our family. As the sun began to set, we had to leave because we were driving back to Cincinnati to stay with my aunt while the paperwork processed (we needed permission from Ohio to take Casey back to California), and Angie's brother (whose name is also Jason) showed up with some Buckeyes gear for Casey. You see, the year 2003 was a championship year for the Ohio State Buckeyes-- and we have the blanket and the penant to prove it. . .

For those of you out there reading this, thinking about what a Disney-happy-story it was, remember that you are reading it only from my perspective. I'll never really know what Angie was thinking that night of January 19th when she said good bye to Casey because she passed away in a tragic car accident in October of 2004, when Casey was just 21 months old. But in my journal I wrote about how Angie had been holding Casey and how I didn't want to take him away from her. But we needed to get on the road because we had a two-hour drive ahead of us in the snow. I wrote about how Angie was sobbing as I placed Casey in his carrier and we moved toward the door-- about how awful I felt for her, almost as if I was outside my own body watching Angie's heart break a little bit more. And I wondered how I could be so selfish-- to feel so happy for me when someone else was aching so badly-- how my joy was causing her pain. Or perhaps it was the other way around. It was so clear to me in that moment how much she loved him. And yet she had not only chosen us despite the difficulty of the decision, but she had also opened her home, her life, her family, her heart to us. How lucky we are that a woman so strong was willing to endure such pain for our benefit. For Casey's benefit.

Angie and her parents and her kids and her brother -- well, they set the tone for our relationship with them. They treated us like family, and that's how we think of them. Every year we look forward to visiting with them in person, seeing how much they've grown and hearing the stories from the year. I've written before how lucky we feel to be connected to them forever through Casey. How much we cherish our time for them. And it's all true. We are lucky in so many ways-- to have known Angie (as briefly as we did). To have Casey in our lives. To know his birth family and to call them our family.

On the eve of Casey's birthday-- four years after he came into our life, I remember how nervous I was four years ago. But mostly I just feel very blessed.

Casey's Birth Story-- Part I

Four years ago Monday, Casey entered the world. We were so lucky to be present and witness his arrival. And in honor of his fourth birthday, I thought I'd share our story.

Jason and I decided to pursue adoption some time around November or December 2001. We had attended a seminar in Orange County which had convinced us that open adoption was for us. That following January (2002) we attended a weekend-long seminar in Los Angeles to begin the process. I remember coming home from that weekend feeling like for the first time in a long time, we were finally in control. (How we arrived at this point is unimportant to this story-- and maybe a post for another day.)

We scheduled our physical exams, requested our birth certificates and marriage license, made appointments for fingerprinting, and met our assigned social worker. The months that followed were a hurricane of paperwork. We wrote long and detailed auto-biographies, harassed our closest friends for letters of recommendations (outlining why we would be such good parents), got proof of good driving records and lacking criminal records, and began writing a letter to potential birth mothers. We also baby-proofed our home, cleaned and prepared for our homestudy visit, and set up an 800 numbers so women interested in interviewing us could reach us.

It took us around 6 months to finish all our paperwork. The first month we had two phone calls from prospective birth mothers. The second month we had two more. And that July we drove up to Santa Clara to meet G, who we liked immediately. By the end of our two days visiting, she revealed that she wanted to match with us, and we were in heaven. She even gave us photographs of the baby's ultrasound. But then G stopped calling. Days passed, then weeks, then months-- and because she'd never called our agency, we were still officially waiting. And receiving phone calls every couple weeks.

In the meantime, I felt at a complete loss. For the first time in my life, things were not going as planned. In that first six months of 2002, I switched jobs, studied for the LSAT to apply for law school, and trained for a marathon. I was going crazy trying to keep my mind off the one thing that mattered more to me than anything else: starting a family.

Thanksgiving weekend we got a phone call from a facilitator in Indiana who had a birthmother who was interested in us after seeing our profile online (we had a website). She was going to call us back in a few days. And true to her word, she did. But the birthmother had changed her mind already and decided to parent. In the meantime, we'd received a phone call from a lovely woman in Georgia-- M. M and I talked pretty regularly over the next 6 weeks or so. She already had two boys and her life was pretty complicated, and her boyfriend didn't think they were in an emotional or financial position to parent. At the same time, he was kind of in denial about the fact the baby was coming soon, and he didn't want to interview prospective families.

M hadn't committed to us, so we kept our information out there. I really wanted things to work out with M. But I couldn't put all my eggs in one basket. Then, a couple weeks later, we got another phone call from the facilitator. This time she had a birthmother in Ohio who was interested in us. This birthmother wanted to talk to us-- and the facilitator gave us her phone number.

I called, but there was no answer. I called 30 minutes later. No answer. I repeated again 30 minutes later. Still no answer. I called the facilitator back. "She's avoiding me," I said. The facilitator told me she'd investigate and call me back. She did and told me to try one last time. So I did. It turned out Angie, the birthmother I was trying to reach, had been at a doctor's appointment over an hour away and it was snowing so it took a long time to get home, so she wasn't there when I called. Anyway, Angie and I hit it off over the phone. Still, no one made any promises or committments.

Angie was due January 21, 2003. M was due at the end of April 2003. Angie was having a boy. M didn't know if she was having a boy or a girl. We were headed to Florida the second week of January because I'd been signed up for Disneyworld's 10th Annual Marathon. I actually ended up with a stress fracture over the Thanksgiving holiday (or the weekend after), but I had paid all that money for the trip-- and we were going. And our good friends (the Goulds) were going to Disney, too. Jessica Gould was pregnant with J.T. at the time, and Erik was fixing to run the marathon, too.

Anyway, long story short, I fan (and finished) the marathon on a stress fracture (read: broken) leg. It took me forever, but I finished it. And I have the metal to prove it! The next day (a Monday) Angie called to let us know they had decided to induce her, and she was certain she wanted us to parent, and could we please get to Ohio by Wednesday morning at 7:30am? Um, YES!

We rearranged our return tickets (we were scheduled to return to San Diego on Wednesday the 15th, so we just changed our tickets to Tuesday). As luck would have it, we were already scheduled to fly through Ohio! So we just needed an extended layover. The only down side to all of this is that we were on vacation. In Florida. Which means we were completely unprepared for winter snow, which we were destined to experience in Ohio in January. We also had nothing ready. We had purchased no nursery furniture. We had no baby clothes, no carrier, no changing table, no diapers. Nothing. Nada. Zip. I didn't want a nursery in our house until we were sure we were having a baby-- no reason to remind myself of what we were missing day in and day out.

Anyway, on January 14th we spent the morning at Disneyworld's Wild Kingdom, hopped a shuttle to the hotel, grabbed our bags, took another shuttle to the airport, and go on an airplane to Ohio. We told everyone why we were going to Ohio in shorts in the dead of winter. And everyone on the plane was so excited for us.

We flew into Cincinnati, but Angie was going to be induced in a rather small city about an hour south of Columbus. When we arrived late at night, the rental agency had us set up in an economy-sized car (which is what we requested). As she was helping us with directions to Casey's birth city, we explained to her why we were flying into an airport several hours away. And why Jason was wearing shorts. She was so excited for us-- and immediately surmised that two Californians driving across the state of Ohio in the middle of the night in the dead of winter probably needed something a little safer than an econo-box. So she upgraded us to an SUV (thankfully!).

We drove through the night. In the snow. And we got to Chilicothe, Ohio around 2am. We checked into our hotel room (which had two double beds because my mom was going to fly up from North Carolina the following day to meet us). And we crashed.

Angie-- who we had never actually met asked us to meet her at the hospital the next morning, where they were planning to induce her. And so we got up eary and went over to the hospital. I remember telling Jason I was nervous about knowing who she was. After all, she had our picture-- but we didn't have hers. He told me she'd be the pregnant one, and I replied that his comment wasn't funny, seeing as how we'd be meeting her in the maternity ward. But we really had no problem finding Angie at all. She was the pregnant one-- the only pregnant one wandering the hallways and not in labor. And I remember her big grin when we first met.

I don't remember what we did while she checked in. Maybe we waited in the hallway? What I remember is her in her hospital bed and us in chairs in the room, and meeting Linda, her mom. Linda (Grandma Linda to Casey) had to get back home to the kids (Angie's other two children) to get them to school. So she left us with her cell phone number and their home phone number in instructions to call when it looked like Angie was getting close. And then we were alone with Angie.

Conversation flowed very easily. We taught her some card games. And then the hosptial social worker showed up and literally kicked us out of the room. Told us to go down to the cafeteria so she could have a chat with Angie. Basically, the hospital had to make sure Angie was okay with us hanging around her while she was in labor. And they didn't want us to be around while they asked her a million questions. We sat in the cafeteria, picking at the food, wondering what questions they were asking and how Angie was responding. And when we returned 30 minutes or so later, Angie invited us back into her room.

They'd started her pitocin drip around 8:00am, and then at 10:00am, the doctor came in and asked us to leave the room again so they could break Angie's water. The whole time we were in with Angie, she never indicated she was in pain, but after they broke her water, one of the nurses turned up the volume of the monitor so we could hear when the contractions were occurring. Jason and I were both surprised and impressed with how calmly Angie was handling it-- those contractions seemed to be coming awfully frequently!

In the meantime, Jason and I debated whether or not he should drive to Columbus to pick up my mom. She was scheduled to arrive around noon, so he'd only we away from the hospital from 11am to 1pm, and we'd heard that induced labor often lasts forever. My mom offered to take a bus, but Jason thought we should go pick her up. In the end, he stayed with me (and Angie). And boy, it's a good thing he did. . .

So this has been a very long and uneventful post so far. . . but it gets more exciting (I promise). Still, I'm tired, so I'll have to add to this tomorrow. Hopefully by the actual day of Casey's birthday I'll have told his whole birth story!

Babysitter Blues

Tonight was our first night out on a date since we met Marcie. Sure, we've hung out during day time hours, when Marcie is accustomed to being with Grandma. But I've haven't been ready to go out at night just yet. And, to be honest, I wouldn't have gone this evening. But my friend convinced me that everything would be okay if I did-- and we hatched a plan.

We would put Marcie to bed at the usual time, then head over to our local Brigantine for dinner. We know the assistant general manager there, and they've recently done a major renovation. I don't think we've been there in like 6 or 7 years-- maybe more-- even though it's less than 10 minutes down the road.

We hired a great kid down the street-- Jason told me he was 13, so I assumed he was in 8th or 9th grade. Now this concerned me a little. I mean 13 is on the young side for babysitting two wily kids. But this babysitter is a Boy Scout. And he's been through babysitter training and the Red Cross classes. And he took care of our dog while we were out of town over Christmas. Most importantly, his parents won't let him babysit unless they are home. And they only live a few houses away.

So our babysitter showed up-- and Casey was ecstatic to have a new playmate. We started telling Casey about tonight yesterday so he wouldn't be surprised. I showed the babysitter how to operate our universal remote, we walked him through the house and told him what to do just in case Marcie woke up while we were gone. We did Marcie's bedtime routine, she went right down, and we were off.

Dinner was yummy. We were in good company (though one of our friends couldn't make it because of a stomach-bug-type-thing). And around 10pm we headed home. The babysitter had arrived at 7:30, and we would be home around 7:10pm. Our plan was for Jason to drive the babysitter back down the street and then come home.

But as we pulled up, we noticed a minivan parked in front of our house. No. No one had bought us a gift. I immediately recognized it as the babysitter's mom's car. Uh oh. I said to Jason, "Hmm. That can't be good." But in my head, I added: though the kids must be okay because there are no emergency vehicles parked out front.

As we entered the home, we saw our babysitter's mom cradling Marcie, feeding her a bottle. Marcie swung her head over, and as soon as she saw us started screaming. Poor, poor Marcie. Even more-- our poor babysitter and his mom! She hadn't been awake even 15 minutes at this point, but he called his mom because she was kind of inconsolable, and he remembered us saying she hadn't been with us long-- and he didn't want us to cut our evening short.

I feel a little bit horrible. Bad, bad mommy. What was I thinking leaving my baby girl so soon? I should have at least introduced her to the babysitter before we left the house-- just in case something like this were to happen. But she doesn't usually wake up two hours after going to bed. And we have to get out every once in a while. And it makes sense to have her at home in her own bed and not at Grandma and Grandpa's every time we want to go out without the kids.

So my point is that I know intellectually that I'm not a bad mommy. And I hope Marcie has learned from this experience that Mommy and Daddy always come back. And if nothing else, our little outing has made me insanely grateful that Marcie has spent all her time away from me and Jason with family (and Ann that one time I drove Jason's parents to the airport-- but she's kind of family anyway).

It might be a while before we hire the babysitter to hang with the kids again. He did a terrific job, but I just don't know that I can handle that kind of stress!

So Many Toys, So Little Time

Yesterday we received our Christmas loot in the mail. We left a huge chunk of stuff back in North Carolina (we couldn't fit it all in our suitcases), and my parents shipped it to us. It didn't look like that much stuff when we were at my parents' house, but now that we've unpacked the boxes into our (much smaller) home, I'm not sure where to put it all. . . You see, I don't know what to do with all our toys.

I do realize this is one of those good problems to have in life (Oh no. Too many toys! What ever shall we do?!?). But seriously. I need a reality check. I have one basket filled just with stuffed animals. Do I put them in Marcie's room? Leave them out? Just pull out a couple and box up the rest for our next kid? Casey occasionally plays with them, but very occasionally. And Marcie has only shown interest in them when Casey plays with them.

I have a giant Little People doll house and a Little People School bus. Do I box these up or keep them out? Neither of my children has ever shown any interest in the Little People stuff. We are boxing up our Little People Noah's Ark and our Little People Farm because of this lacking interest. But maybe Marcie just doesn't know how to pretend play with the stuff and I need to show her? Or should I put them away for now.

What about all the blocks we have? We have a tub of blocks. Casey loved blocks when he was Marcie's age. Mainly, he liked to stack things high and knock them down. But he has never really been into building. And Marcie will knock down my creations, but she hasn't expressed any interest in building . . . yet. My instincts tell me to definitely keep the blocks out-- but I'm not 100% sure.

We have a tub of musical instruments, toy food, and LeapPad readers. Casey has recently expressed interest in the LeapPad thingy for kids Marcie's age (that figures), and he went through a period of time where he was more interested in his. Do I put them away for now because we are reading to them anyway (when Marcie pulls a book out of her mouth long enough to allow me to read it to her, that is)? They are bulky, and I question their value.

We have a basket of balls. I think I'll keep that out. We have a basket of trains and matchbox-sized cars. I will keep that out. And we have a giant basket of large-sized cars, which Marcie has occasionally expressed interest in, so I'm keeping that out. We also have a boatload of puzzles-- the wooden kind-- with many missing pieces. Do I toss these? Keep them out?

We have threading activities with giant beads for Casey, which we haven't used in a long while-- but I feel compelled to keep out because we should be using them more with him. And we have the LeapPad table, a vacuum cleaner, and a stroller with a baby doll all taking up space. Marcie only uses the table if I set her at it, so I'm thinking of packing this up and passing it along to friends. Casey has never used the vacuum cleaner, and he mainly pushes the stroller into walls. But Marcie is getting to the age where she might like them both-- and I'm afraid if I put them into storage, I'll forget to take them out until she is too old for them. . .

And last (I think) is our Bounce and Spin Zebra and each of the kids ride-on car toys. These actually get used quite a bit by Marcie, who is impressively able to navigate them, wheel herself around, and bounce along on the zebra. The thing is that all these toys are in our family room/dining room area. Which actually has furniture in it. I suppose I should just start calling it our "play room" (especially given that the coffee table has been turned into a train table for Casey). And these are the toys I'm contemplating keeping out after putting away many other toys. . .

Now add to that list Marcie's new dinosaur roar ball toy, the ball bopper, the gumball machine, and Casey giant Lightning McQueen-- all pretty large-sized items for the space. Where do I put them? Will Marcie even play with these toys? Should I send one or two of them over to Grandma's, where she plays all day (I think I might, but that doesn't resolve all my space issues).

And also consider that Casey is having a birthday on Monday. And a pretty big party. Which probably means more toys . . . So how many toys are too many? How do you decide which toys should be kept out? Should we just rotate the toys through the room? How often? In doing that, do we leave everything out, but just less of everything-- or do we have toys that are available for just a couple weeks at a time? The thought of rotating the toys frightens me if only because it's another thing to add to my to-do list, which is already much too long. But we can't live as guests in the home so full of toys that we can't walk anywhere without tripping over one, either.

What do others out there do?

Marcie's "First Sisters"

One of the nice things about having an open adoption here in the U.S. is that Casey gets to know his birth family. He has an aunt and an uncle, a couple cousins, and a brother and sister in Ohio (by the way, Uncle Jason-- sorry about the Buckeyes!). We are so grateful for this. It means Casey will always have a strong sense of his roots-- he'll know people who can tell him all about his birthmother. And he'll have a relationship with his siblings. One of the things that initially worried me about adopting from China is that Marcie would miss out on those similar relationships. We'll never know the details of her birth, what her "first family" was like-- and we won't be able to provide her ready access to people from her infant past.

But one thing I didn't anticipate was the wonderful relationships we'd forge with other people who have children from the same orphanage. I don't know why I didn't consider this. I just didn't. But we were so lucky to meet some really cool people on our trip overseas. Emma's mom, Annette, for instance, thoughtfully sent Marcie a birthday card (and a Christmas card). We were just admiring the picture at dinner this evening, in fact (Marcie was eating Emma's picture). And our big, exciting news is that two of Marcie's "first sisters" are coming to visit in February!

I call them her "first sisters" because I think of the orphanage as her first family-- her home before she came home with us. It may not be an ideal environment for a child, but I have no doubt those nannies loved Marcie and took very good care of her. And she was very attached to them. When the nine girls in Marcie's group were referred for adoption, they were moved into their own section of Yunyang orphanage together. They lived together for a couple months before their new families could come get them. I thought this was wonderful-- it meant that when they were finally placed in our arms, in a strange environment (the Golden Resources Hotel in Chongqing), they would at least have the comfort of each other while they got to know these strange American faces. I really believed this was a tremendous comfort to Marcie-- because the last day we were in Guanzhou-- the day we were the only remaining family from our travel group, Marcie was definitely different. I think she missed all her little sisters from the orphanage.

So when one of the families let us know they'd be in San Diego for work, of course we wanted to visit with them! And then when another said they thought it might be nice to get out of the Colorado snow for some sunshine (though I make no promises about the sun) for a February weekend, we told them to come on over! And they are! They're all coming the same weekend! I can hardly wait to see how big Ava and Cassidy have grown. And I'm looking forward to meeting Ava's older and younger brother's too.

They tell me they've booked their flights-- which means it's really happening! Our house will be loud and chaotic and nutty and maybe a bit cramped. But, boy won't it be fun!?! I can hardly wait!

Animals-- Not the Kids, the Real Thing!

We've spent portions of each of the last two weekends at the San Diego Wild Animal Park. We are members. And it is so worth the membership cost (which is, incidentally, fully tax-deductible). Living so close to both the World Famous Zoo and the Wild Animal Park make them great places to visit. And because we are members, we never feel guilty about just staying for a while.

As luck would have it, both times we visited, the weather was gorgeous. So here are some photos:

First is the white rhino, which is the icon for the Wild Animal Park.

This particular rhinocerous is famous for producing a ridiculous amout of offspring-- enough to help keep the species going. This isn't him, actually-- he died. But this is a statue in his memory.

The first time we went to the Park, we took the tram/train ride to see all the animals in their Asia and Africa enclosures. There were several new babies to see:

Here is one of the baby elephants.

And that one is of the baby rhinocerous. Of course I think they are both adorable. Then again, I don't clean the enclosures!

On our next visit, Casey was enamored with the birds-- the ducks, the flamingoes. He was just crazy about the birds!

Over at South Cackalackin, my good friend recently published a post about our ecological footprints. Jason likes to give Danielle a hard time-- you see, she worked for many years at the Bronx Zoo in New York, and she has a real love of animals and a real knack for teaching about them. But somehow, every time we get together with Danielle, Jason and Dani get into some conversation about benobo monkeys (not even sure I'm spelling that right!). Anyway, these next two photos are for Danielle-- I do know that gorillas are not the same as monkeys (the gorilla doesn't have a tail, for instance). But our visit made me think of her.

So those are the animal photos. I personally prefer the people photos, like these:

Christmas on New Years & Marcie's Sort-of Black Eye

On the years when we go see my family for Christmas, we celebrate Christmas with Jason's parents after we return. This year was no different. We all gathered together for presents and an excellent meal (Jason's mom sure can cook!). And the kids had a blast (of course!). Casey, not surprising, made out like a bandit (as usual).

He got some granola bars, a space ship that zooms all over a patterned mat (which he thinks is super cool), a Thomas sticker book, and a talking Lightning McQueen. The toy's mouth moves, and so do its eyes. And it has pre-programmed driving courses so that it can whip all over the place. Casey has been practically inseparable from the toy since he opened it.

In fact, when he first got the Lightning McQueen out of its package, he brought it to me and kept saying, "Casey swain" over and over. I didn't understand what he meant until he dragged me to a marker. Then he flipped over the toy, pointed to the bottom of it, and repeated: "Casey swain." What he wanted was for me to write his name on the toy-- to show it was his. (We had done this with all the toys in North Carolina because with five boys only 3 years apart in age, it's easy to get the toys all mixed up.) The rest of the evening, he put that Lightning McQueen in and out of the box (er. . . hem. . . I mean, garage). And he has even been sleeping with the toy since (though I do insist we turn off Lightning at night so he can get some rest).

It's also a tradition with Jason's parents that they give us what we affectionately call Vitamin M each year. Often they hide the money in a gift. Last year, for instance, they hid cash in a sweatshirt pocket for my brother in law Jon. Well, this year they weren't really sneaky about it-- they gave us the money in traditional Lucky Money envelopes. And we asked Casey to help us open the envelopes. These pictures show him opening the envelopes and pulling out the Vitamin M. He calls cash "tickets," and he had great fun waving the money in the air and yelling, "CASEY HAS TICKETS!" That didn't last long though-- it was too much money for us to leave in the hands of a three year old (even one who is almost four). So we pocketed the cash, which we'll be spending in Vegas (what a cool treat!). Who knows-- maybe we'll even be lucky enough to get some return on the money!

While we were opening gifts, Marcie was toddling all around, and as she came barrelling toward her grandmother, she toppled over-- right on top of a box to one of her gifts. It's probably not fair to call it a black eye, and even in the past week it's healed quite nicely. But here is what she looked like after the incident:

Despite the minor mishap, Marcie was no worse for the wear. We have been dutifully keeping her out of the sun so it doesn't scar. And she pretty much picked herself right back up after her little tumble. And proceeded to strut around the house, showing off her newly found walking skills:

And, of course, I saved my favorite photo of the evening for last:

So Much for Getting Things Right

It's been a while since I've updated our lives. I had that one terrific experience with Casey. But then he was a holy terror that night. I had to ban him from his Lightning McQueen Christmas gift from his grandparents for the evening as punishment. I don't remember what he did anymore-- the routine is getting tired. And tiring.

Take this evening for instance. I swung by with Marcie to pick up Casey from school. Casey was going potty when we arrived, and we said hello as we passed by the bathroom door, but wanted to give him his space. After he finished his business, he came running up to me and Marcie, and Casey gave me a big bear hug. Then he rubbed Marcie gently on the head and told her, "Good girl, Marcie. You're so cute." This was followed by him asking where his Lightning McQueen is. I told him it was at home with Daddy and he could have it when we got home.

Casey practically skipped out of school. But once we passed through the gate, Savage Casey returned. Instead of getting into the car like I asked, he ran in the opposite direction-- thankfully not in the parking lot. He sat down on a bench. I told him he had until three to get up and come toward us-- and if he didn't come, he wouldn't be able to play with Lightning McQueen tonight. I counted to three. He didn't budge. Another parent in the parking lot commented to me that she had just had the same conversation with her son. I told Casey I was leaving and made movements to leave when he came running. I buckled him into the car, and in the time it took me to put his stuff in the trunk, he had smacked Marcie in the face.

I didn't yell. But I did open the door, unbuckled his seatbelt and tell him to get out of the car and sit on the curb. And he did. But then he started to wail. And he threw himself down on the pavement. He sobbed and sobbed and cried loudly. Fortunately for me, I was the only one around. When he calmed down, I told him he could get back in the car, but he needed to apologize to Marcie. He refused. So I told him he needed to sit on the curb and think about things until he was ready to tell her he was sorry for hitting her. His wailing continued. Then I had an idea-- I pulled his leftover graham crackers from his lunch sack and asked him if he wanted them. He said yes. I told him he could have them as soon as he apologized to Marcie. And he did.

Next stop was the dry cleaners. This was another ordeal-- I'll spare you the minute details. Suffice to say if I hadn't already told him no more Lightning McQueen at that point, I would have then. And then we came home. Casey's new thing is to help feed the dog. He likes to scoop out the wet food and put down the dish for the dog. And of course we let him.

Boy is he up and down. After being so helpful with the dog food, though, he cried uncontrollably when he felt his after-dinner-snack-food was being threatened by Marcie's presence (and truthfully, with good cause). He's so up and down- it must be hard work to be on such a roller coaster all the time.

As I often think when my patience have been tried-- it's a good thing kids are so darn cute. Here's a photo of me with the kids on Saturday, after Casey's pizza meal:

Why China? CNN Hasn't a Clue

So the other day Paula Zahn of CNN discussed the new China policies on her show. I'm not sure what the point of the conversation was-- to complain? To make Americans who choose to adopt from China look like idiots? To promote adoptions from Africa? If you don't know what I'm talking about, you can read the transcript from the show here: http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0701/05/pzn.01.html

You have to scroll about 1/2 way down the transcript to get to the segment on adoptions from China. If you aren't aware of it, in December the China Center for Adoption Affairs (CCAA) came out with some new regulations. There is a long list. I personally believe this was prompted by the ever-increasing wait for "paper-ready" babies from China. When we started the process in November of 2004, the wait after submitting paperwork was 6 months. We waited a hair over 12 months. The wait is currently just over 15 months, and predictions suggest that based on the current number of waiting families, it will reach 24 months. My guess is also that as the wait continues to stretch, more families will choose to adopt from other countries. Many already have. So I think the main reason for the stricter policies is that China wants to keep the wait reasonable so that they have a steady supply of parents for children and vice versa. But no one really knows why they have created these rules, which go into effect May 1st.

Among the new rules are that single women can no longer adopt (China has been permitting a quota of single women to adopt each year), that people with physical disabilities (including facial deformities) can no longer adopt (though China has always questioned parents with disabilties), and that people who are morbidly obese (that is with a body mass index over 40) cannot adopt. There are also rules about minimum family income and net assets. I don't know if the net asset rule was there before, but the minimum income was when we adopted, and I think it's pretty reasonable that they'd want a family to be able to financially care for the child.

As for the number of singles-- if China has that many people waiting to adopt and they believe it's better for a child to be raised in a two-parent family than in a one-parent family, it's certainly their prerogative to give priority to two-parent families for the time being. I don't really get the facial deformity issue-- I mean no one even really knows what this means. But my guess is that if it's been medically corrected, it's not considered a deformity anymore. I can't really speak to that one. And as for the weight issue, this seems to have gotten a lot of people up in arms. I certainly understand why. Weight is, for me like for many, a struggle. I grew up with a mother who was pretty overweight and it definitely did not affect her ability to be a terrific parent. But I don't think my mom would have qualified as morbidly obese by these new standards. For example, I am about five feet tall. To have a BMI of 40, I'd have to weigh 204 pounds. And for a woman who is 5 foot 6 to have a BMI of 40, she'd have to weigh 247 pounds. Now perhaps this kind of extra weight isn't a big deal while someone is young, but if the concern is a stable family environment, then that extra weight does carry long term health consequences-- and thus I don't think it's a matter of wanting parents who look pretty, but of a concern about parents who will be around for a while. Regardless, China can set whatever rules it wants. . .

None of this was discussed in any detail in Paula Zahn's show, though. Instead, the show turned into a discussion about why people choose to adopt from China. And interestingly, she did not have any actual parents on the show. Nor did a single guest provide any statistical evidence (or even anecdotal evidence) as to their claims. . .

First off, Uygar states that people are choosing not to adopt Muslim children, despite the war in Iraq because those kids aren't as cute or as smart as Chinese children. Uh . . . hello? Did anyone check to see what the laws are regarding adoption from Iraq or Afghanistan? In fact the U.S. State Department reports that adoption from Afghanistan is nearly impossible: http://travel.state.gov/family/adoption/country/country_362.html . Likewise, Uygar is wrong that Americans are disinterested in Iraqi-born children. In fact, the U.S. State Department has received numerous requests regarding adoption from Iraq. But again, this is pretty near impossible: http://travel.state.gov/family/adoption/country/country_401.html. Now, it doesn't take much research to figure this out-- all I did was look it up on the State Department website. You'd think Paula Zahn and her guests would do at least the bare minimal research! People aren't choosing China over Muslim countries because of intelligence or cuteness-- there just simply isn't much of a choice.

Next, Maldonado explains: "[P]eople believe if they're adopting a child from China, the child is going to be healthier than a child they adopt in the United States and that is just not true." I'm curious about what "people" Maldonado refers to here. I've not heard this as a main reason for adopting from anyone I know who has adopted from China. I have heard this as a comparison of China to other foreign countries, but not as a comparison to the U.S. And even if this were a reason for people choosing China, how does Maldonado know it's not true? What are the statistics about American-born children placed for adoption versus those born in China? And how is he defining "healthy"? Is a child who has been drug-exposed (but born not addicted) "healthy"? Is a child who has complications during labor and delivery or suffers from jaundice healthy? And how can we compare a newborn American-born child to a 7-12 month old China-born child?

And Martin suggests American choose to adopt from China because they wants smart children: "Maybe they think they can adopt a smart kid that is going to grow up to be a doctor? I don't know. They need to realize that's called training, not just inherent, it will happen when they're born." "Maybe"? Where does Martin get this stuff? I mean, when you adopt in China, you actually have to provide a reason on your application for why you want to adopt from China specifically. Did Martin sift through these applications and petitions to come up with this claim? Because, again, I haven't heard this as a reason for adopting from China. Ever. The notion that this is a reason to adopt from China-- that it's a consideration-- says a lot about the person putting it forth as a rationale, though.

Speaking of ignorance, when Zahn asks Martin what the assumptions are about Black children, Martin explains, "I think they[American parents] probably assume they're [Black children] going to sing for them like Jay Z and play like in the NBA." Uh . . . really? That's what American parents of Black children think about their kids? I sincerely doubt that my friend Alison adopted her son Ethan because she thought he'd be a musician or a basketball player. And I know that when we adopted our biracial son, a future career as a professional athlete never even crossed our minds. In fact, I am pretty sure that Alison and Phil, like me and Jason, adopted our sons because they were children who were available and we wanted children to love. Period. That was the end of it.

What I find so amazing about the show is two things: 1. They never actually discuss the real reasons people choose to adopt from China, and 2. in comparing Chinese children to children of other cultures, they discussed only the perceptions of the adopting parents as reasons for the adoption and not the societal implications of the choice. I'll explain that in a minute.

So, why do people choose to adopt from China? We adopted from China for several reasons.

First, we wanted a low-risk adoption process. Although our domestic adoption with Casey went incredibly smoothly, there are many risks involved in the domestic adoption system. A birthmother has the right to change her mind after the child is placed with you for a number of days (or months in California). You might invest time and energy (and even money) into a situation, and a birthmother might choose to parent even before the child is born. With China, there is no question that you will walk away from a given timeline with a child who is truly available for adoption.

Second, adoptions from China are relatively predictable. When we adopted Casey, we had to be ready to travel, more or less, at the drop of a hat. In fact, we were on vacation when Casey was born, and we left Florida early to be present at his birth (his birthmother was quite generous to allow us to be in the room!). Being in law school, I just couldn't afford to drop everything and be out of state for upwards of three weeks like I was with Casey. I needed to be able to plan-- at least a little bit. Adopting from China allowed me to plan my classes, etc. according to when we thought we'd travel. So it was definitely more convenient (although this would not have ben enough, alone, fo us to choose China over a domestic adoption).

Third, the cost is relatively predictable. In domestic adoptions, your agency fees and homestudy fees are set-- but there may be other expenses. You don't know what your travel expenses will be or if your child's birthmother will need financial support. In an international adoption, you can predict these expenses and plan accordingly.

Fourth, children from China specifically, are generally healthy. They seem to be held a lot as infants, which is very impotant for development and attachment. They seem to be loved and fed and generally well cared for. This is not to say they are BETTER cared for in China than the U.S., but add this to the other things, and it helps. Additionally, though I have done no research to back this up, I would venture to guess that the number of children born in China exposed to drugs at some point during the pregnancy (or to alcohol) is less than in the U.S. Drug use is less rampant generally, and births in China tend to be less because of unplanned pregnancies and more because of the rules and the social pressures about having girls. So in that sense, I think children are probably more healthy on the whole . . .

And last but not least, Jason is half Chinese. Jason's mom speaks Cantonese with our children. We felt we were in a unique situation to provide a culturally rich environment for a child from China. And the child would "fit" in with us because he (or she) would look, at least in coloring, similar to Jason. In fact, we looked into adopting from China when Casey was born but we were not yet old enough (you have to be 30).

There are, of course, many reasons to adopt in the U.S. One advantage is knowing your child's medical history and helping her come to terms with her identity and the choice her "first" mother made to place her for adoption. Another advantage is having the child from birth instead of after 9-12 months (or more). This was one reason I wanted to adopt domestically.

But I can honestly say I NEVER considered adopting from China because I wanted a "smart" child. That's just ridiculous.

Now, onto reason #2 above. I personally think a reason that Americans choose China over, say, Africa (besides the very stable and structured process)-- or more specifically why Asian children are more popular than Black children, even in domestic adoptions (and for proof of this, look at www.adoptionhelp.org 's waiting parent list-- search the waiting families by those interested in adopting Caucasian or Asian babies, then again by those open to African American babies and you'll see what I'm talking about) is more about society in general than it is about the adopting parents. Why is that we hear more about discrimination against Black people than against Asian people? What about the fact that many Black people are flat-out opposed to White people adopting Black children? None of Zahn's guests addressed the larger societal issues-- it's not just about what an individual family does-- it's also about how that family is accepted by society, and specifically about how that family's child copes with being "different" looking than the rest of her family. Just something to think about.

I know, for us, anyway, we would absolutely consider adopting from Africa-- and we just might do that with our next adoption. We are lucky to have had such positive experiences adopting domestically (a biracial child) and internationally (a Chinese child). These decisions were well-thought-out, came from a rational founding-- but most importantly were borne of love-- and that was something totally missing from the CNN piece. What a short-sighted work of journalism. . . makes me wonder about the other things they report on and how one-sided and unthoroughly researched they are.

Cuddling Casey

This morning I had one of those incredible moments where I felt like I actually did the right thing. It's rare. In parenthood, I find myself frequently re-analyzes what I've said and done-- wondering if it was the right thing for the kids. But this morning, I nailed it. And it. Felt. Good.

Some time in the middle of the night (I think around 2am), Casey wandered into our bedroom whining, and asked to get into bed with us. I don't particularly like sleeping with Casey. He is a wiggler and a kicker and a bed hog (at least Marcie, when asleep, is relatively still). And not only did he squirm his way between us, even though I'd offered to take him back to bed and lay down with him, but he complained that he wanted Lightning McQueen. His giant one. The one that talks. So I crawled out of bed and returned to his room with him, where we located the giant Lightning McQueen toy (which I turned off so it didn't go zooming of his bed if he accidentally knocked into it during the night). Back in our room, in our bed, Casey curled up with his Lightning McQueen and fell fast asleep. Right in the middle of my side of the bed. I, on the other hand, went back to Casey's room, curled up on his bed, and fell asleep myself. I awoke around 5am, returned to my room, retrieved Casey (and Lightning), and put him back in his bed. Then I climbed back into my own bed to sleep until my alarm went off a bit before 6am. I'd venture to bet Jason doesn't even know Casey and I traded places for several hours in the middle of the night. The man can sleep. And I am jealous.

Anyway, when my alarm clock went off, I checked to make sure both kids were asleep, and darted into the shower. I had finished getting dressed and was completing my make-up when Casey wandered into our room around 6:15am (yes, I'm speedy). He wanted help making Lightning talk. We took the toy into the family room, where I made Casey breakfast and we watched an episode of Dragon Tales (well, he watched. I made his lunch. And mine. And prepped Marcie's bottle). Around 6:45am, Casey went with me to wake up Marcie. And we did. And she drank her bottle. At this point it was 7:00am. I was aiming to leave the house at 7:15am so that I could have them at their grandmother's by 7:30am this morning. Casey still wasn't dressed (because it's really better if he eats breakfast in his pajamas in case he spills). He had curled up on my lap, alongside Marcie, during her feeding. And when she was finished, I announced that he could either brush his teeth or get dressed first.

Then the shouting began. Him, not me. NO! I left the room and got Marcie half changed. I heard Casey yelling for me. When I came back to the family room, though, he was still in the chair, with a blanket. "Are you ready to brush your teeth?" "NO!" he screamed, as he followed me into his bathroom. I turned on the water to wet his toothbrush. He screamed, "NO!" I asked him to open his mouth so I could help him brush, and he screamed, "NO!" (Though I snuck the toothbrush in while he was opening his mouth to shout, so I managed to get his teeth brushed.) By this point, all the yelling had woken up Jason, who shouted from the bedroom, "Do I need to come out there?" I called out back, "No thanks. I actually have it under control."

Once his teeth were brushed and his hair was combed, Casey led me (and Marcie) to his bedroom, where he got dressed. In the end, I tossed him his socks, and I asked him to put them on. Instead, he walked over to Marcie and (admittedly, lightly) stomped on her back. She didn't even cry. But I lost it. I scooped her up and shouted (which is actually kind of rare for me): "YOU STAY IN YOUR ROOM! THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR! WE DO NOT KICK MARCIE! WE DO NOT HIT MARCIE! YOU JUST STAY IN HERE TILL I COME BACK!" And I slammed the door shut. I then very calmly carried Marcie into our bedroom, and set her on the bed with Jason to play before returning to Casey.

Now, at this point, you are probably wondering what the heck I am so proud of. So far not so good. What's with all the yelling? How can anyone feel calm and safe with all that racket? You're right. The yelling was not-so-good. But Casey has such a hard time focusing, and my raised voice definitely got his attention. . . If I hadn't yelled and I had just closed the door instead (which I have tried in the past), he would have opened it right back up. . . Anyway, when I returned to Casey's room, I sat down on the floor and asked him to come sit on my lap. I held his face in my hands gently and asked him to look me in the eyes. And he did. And then I told him:

Casey, I love you very much. When I am not with you all day, I miss you so much. And even when I'm helping Marcie, I still love you. Did you know that? But hands are not for hitting. We do not hit Marcie, do we? We do not kick Marcie, do we? Are we supposed to poke Marcie? (No.) Are we supposed to pinch Marcie? (No.) Are we supposed to stomp on Marcie? (No.) Mommy knows that Casey just wants extra attention from Mommy and that sometimes it's hard to share. But I love you Casey, and if I could be anywhere in the world, I'd want to be with you. Even when I'm at work, I think about Casey and Marcie all day. I miss you, and I can't wait to see you at the end of the day. Did you know that? (Yes.)

And then I hugged him, and we snuggled up for a few minutes. And he was an ANGEL for the rest of the morning.

I feel like I finally did something right.

New Years Resolutions

Are you a believer in them? If so, I'd love to hear yours . . .

Here is mine:

To make it through the next seven months in one piece, without gaining weight, and without getting sick more than once a month.

Think I can do it? Believe it or not, the "without gaining weight" and the "once a month" moratorium on illnesses-- especially that one-- might be difficult. Our pediatrician reminded me today that healthy children who are NOT in day care get sick an average of 12-13 times per year, and those in day care get sick even more often. Whew! Hope my immune system is a bit stronger than a healthy child's!

The Lowdown on the Girlfriends

It's hard to be my friend. I don't mean that in a self-loathing or self-pitying way. It just is. Not because I'm high maintenance. Or because I get jealous easily. Or even because I expect a lot of my friends. At least I don't think I do. But I am a complainer. I always have something to complain about. And if I'm not complaining to my husband-- and often even when I am-- I am complaining to a friend. Add that personality quirk to the fact that I'm rarely free for anything social, and my circle of friends is, well, limited.

That said, I am a friend for life. If you've been my friend any time in the past, you could call me up at any time in the future-- I would most definitely remember you, even if I lost your address somewhere along the way and failed to continue sending Christmas cards. And I'd want to hang out. Because despite the fact that it's hard to be my friend, I am a total loyalist. And when I make friends, they are pretty much people I'd want to re-encounter over the course of my life.

So despite my unavailability (though, to be honest, if any of my friends called me any time day or night in a crisis, I'd drop just about anything and go running), there is a small group of people who seems to have been able to really put up with my constant complaining. And in honor of the new year, I thought I'd publicly express my gratitude toward these women. . . who really help sustain me throughout the year.

Let's start with D. She is my oldest friend. I met D in second grade. She skipped first grade and landed in my second grade class. I'm not sure if it was the day she joined our class or the day after-- but I simply asked, "Want to be my friend?" And we have been ever since. That's pretty amazing-- to find a girlfriend who will stand by you through all the boy-chasing of elementary school recess, through the awkward first menstrual cycle of sixth grade and the discomfort of the "group" showers required after PE when I was the only one with boobs. A girlfriend who stood by me through first kisses, voted for me (I assume) in school elections, worked on high school projects, and shared a limo to Senior Prom with me (and my date, of course). Heck, she even went to Homecoming with my husband once! And when we went off to college, we stayed in touch-- less regularly. But somehow, we always managed to pick up right where we left off. She sheltered me during my first real heartbreak (that would be Greg in the 8th grade) and during my first adult heartbreak (that would be Mike). She was with me when I got married, when I bought my first car (without my parents' help), and when Jason and I bought our first house. We used to joke that she'd have to come visit so that we could finally conceive a child (and she acted appropriately grossed out by this suggestion). And even though we live across the country from one another and our lives have, at least momentarily, taken different paths, there is a mutual respect, a mutual comfort, a mutual love. I know I'm not describing it with justice. . . But when that Bette Midler/ Barbara Hershey movie Wind Beneath My Wings came out, it became our movie. I always though D would be a performer-- she has an amazing voice, and she even sang at my wedding. That's not where life has carried her, but I hope she knows that I would always be content being the wind beneath her wings. Even though we are so very far apart, I know that she is a true kindred spirit. And I feel blessed.

Next there is A. A is my best friend here in San Diego. We met in graduate school, the first night of class. As we made chit-chat that night, we discovered that she knew (and once dated) my then-boyfriend's younger brother. We were immediate friends. We completed our teaching credential program-- she as a math teacher and me as an English teacher. We hung out. We drank coffee. Her family took me in as one of their own, including me in holiday meals. I can't explain it, but I felt instantly like I had known A forever. Perhaps what sealed the deal for me was falling asleep on the floor of her apartment that year, sobbing, heartbroken (over the aforementioned breakup with Mike). A and I attended church together, walked together, and just hung out. At the end of our first year as friends, we agreed to move in together (with another person), but somehow the deal fell apart-- I don't even remember the details anymore, to be honest (which is pretty rare for me). What I do remember is that somehow it didn't destroy our friendship. And that made me feel completely relieved. Because A is a keeper-of-a-friend. We don't share a common view on politics, and we don't always see the world the same way. But A is genuine, and fun-- and so darn patient. Here we are, in the same city, and sometimes we can go a week or two without talking. And just pick up where we left off (as you can tell, this is a very importat quality for me). A just gets me. She, like D, has been there to help me celebrate the big things-- and to pick me up when devastation hits. For example, A really helped carry me through the infertility rollercoaster. And still loves me.

A and D are our son's godmothers. Casey is lucky that way. (Not to say Marcie isn't lucky-- she has her aunts as her godmothers, so she is pretty darn lucky, too!)

Next comes G. Eight years ago G would not have made my list of top girlfriends. This isn't because I didn't know G. In fact, I met G the same year I met A. She and I met because we were working on our Masters degrees in the same program, and we frequently paired up on projects because we were the only to secondary teachers. Interestingly, G has been there for all my major life moves except my marriage. I hadn't even begun teaching yet, but G treated me like a veteran-- someone with real expertise. I don't know that she even realizes she did. But her cheerleader approach to relationships is really uplifting, and I think she single-handedly gave me the right ego boost for a successful start to a teaching career. We lost touch after that first year, talked again not long after I was married (and she'd left teaching temporarily), then reconnected randomly a while later. G and I work together now. She is the reason I have the job I have, in fact. And I think G is probably one of the wisest people I know. She is definitely more a giver than a taker. She holds her cards close to her chest-- and I respect that. But she is so kind, so caring-- the kind of person who really understands what motivates the people around her, who really anticipates their needs, and then just takes proactive steps. G is the whole package. She gets that life needs balance, and she reminds me to strive for that balance all the time. And, of course, she listens to me gripe on a very regular basis. Lucky, lucky me. Seriously.

Last, but definitely not least, is K. I used to work with K. And truth be told (and I'm not sure she even knows this), I wasn't thrilled about hiring her. I sat in on the interviews, and though K was absolutely qualified, I had selected someone else as my first choice initially. Now, in my defense, I hadn't been working there that long, and I wasn't expecting to ever become friends with my co-workers. My life was so crazy, so busy. The last thing I was expecting was a friend at work. But boy am I glad we hired K. She has taught me so much about being a grown up. You see, K grew up in a totally different world than I did. She is the kind of person who won't go out in public without make-up on. Who wears designer, fitted clothing (and looks stellar in them), and who has a clear sense of appropriate customer service. Plus, K taught me what lunch should be (and it's not eating greasy grilled cheese at my desk). K and I became friends from going to lunch and chit-chatting. Well, that and her listening to me complain. G once described K as discriminating, and that is exactly the right word for her. She has such a keen sense of style-- and K is a researcher. Boy, if I haven't looked into something, K definitely has. If you want to know what baby gear to buy, or what car to get, I can assure you, K will have researched it. Thoroughly. It's pretty amazing. Plus K is so helpful! At Christmas this year, I needed to get gift cards to two stores, neither of which is anywhere in my neighborhood. And since I was meeting K for lunch later in the week (she's taken a leave from work), she said she'd do it for me! How nice is that-- kind of a personal shopper of sorts (hey, that would be a kick-butt job for her! I should mention it). K is a loyal friend-- and she's so good at it. She really keeps in touch with her girlfriends, and I find that pretty incredible.

Of course there is more to each of these four women than I've expressed in this far-too-lengthy post. I know I haven't done them justice. And what's crazy is that although each of the four of them knows all about the other three, and would probably love each other, I never hang out with all four at once-- either because of distance or timing or something. But I am one lucky girl to have the friends I have. The ones who have stuck it out with me during the past 3 1/2 years of law school and listened to all my complaining. I hope they know how grateful I am for their friendship, for their love. Most of all, though, I hope they each know that they inspire me to strive to be a better person and a better friend . . .

P.S. Thankfully, they don't seem to mind my prolific writing style!

Happy New Year!

So today begins a fresh, new year.

A year ago today, a couple friends of ours had their dossier received by the CCAA (Chinese Center for Adoption Affairs) in China. Today, Jan. 1st, marks the one year anniversary of their paperwork arriving in China. The one year anniversary of the start of the official wait. Their daughter is over there somewhere-- perhaps being born today. Perhaps not yet born. And another year without her has passed. But the good news is that this is the year they will meet her . . .

What else does 2007 have in store? 2006 was a big year of change. Jason changed jobs-- technically twice. I finished another year of law school. I worked for the summer at a terrific, family-friendly law firm here in San Diego. And even got a job offer from them for post-graduation. I ran two half-marathons and trained for a third. Jason competed in a Brazilian jiu jitsu tournament and nearly choked out his competitor-- a guy double his size and weight. Casey started a new preschool-- full day-- and actually began making friends. And speaking in complete sentences. We lost Chuffy, one of our beloved pugs. And of course, we met Marcie (and some terrific families on the trip to meet her). We celebrated birthdays and holidays with friends and family. We were generally healthy (unless you count my bazillion colds, which are really minor things). 2006 was a good year for us. Sure, we had our moments-- who doesn't? But we hope 2007 treats us just about as well.

So what do we have to look forward to in 2007? Casey turns four in just a couple weeks and will have his first friend-focused birthday party. He'll continue in full-day preschool, playing soccer, and going to speech and occupational therapy for help with his auditory processing issues and his sensory integration issues. I will take a leave of absence from my career as a teacher. At the end of this year (my final year year of law school, thankfully), I will have been in school as a student for half of our marriage. I'm not sure I remember what it was like to be married and not be a student! I will also sit for the California Bar and start a new job. Marcie will continue classes at The Little Gym, and she will start preschool this fall (already!). We're hopeful she'll be able to start full days at the same school where Casey is when I start working at the new law firm. We also are planning a big family trip this year-- out to Ohio to attend my high school debate partner's wedding and to visit with Casey's birth family. Then down to North Carolina to hang out with my parents. And maybe Jason and I will get to pop up to New York-- I haven't been there since I was 11, and Jason has never been there. Jason plans to resume Brazilian jiu jitsu this month, and I have to figure out how to add exercise into my soon-to-be crazy work/school schedule. But figure it out, we will. We always do. . . And life will keep marching forward. . .