The fires are still raging. They are now burning primarily east, and the winds have died down. There are still homes and other structures at risk along Palomar Mountain and Lake Arrowhead and in east county. But most residents -- those in neighborhoods where the homes are still standing-- have been permitted to return. Despite warnings that the air is very unhealthy and requests that people stay indoors, I did see a few (crazy) people outside running this morning. A thick layer of muck covers much of the county's sky, and tonight's moon is glowing eerily.
Our kids are fast asleep in their own beds. Their campfire-smelling sheets have been washed. We began the process of washing all our clothes and towels this morning. The kids spent the day with their grandmother, two of their aunts, and their soon-to-be uncle.
As it turns out, their preschool re-opened today. Which I would have known if I'd bothered to call them. I'm so accustomed to using the Internet as a primary source of information that I didn't even think to call. Tomorrow they'll be back in school. Marcie's Halloween Parade and Potluck, originally scheduled for tomorrow, has been rescheduled for Halloween. And I think most people are still planning to let their kids go trick-or-treating on Halloween, even though the fires (and thus the smoke) won't be contained until just before Halloween and controlled until around November 4th. (Contained describes fire-break perimeters, and controlled means the fire has been put out.)
Our community is accepting donations and volunteers. You can find more information at poway.org. Of course the Salvation Army and the Red Cross (designate option 2- San Diego/Imperial Counties Local Disaster Fund) are also taking donations.
I read that some of the Rancho Bernardo residents were comforted by President Bush's visit today. At least they said they were when the President asked them point blank. Like what else are you going to say? You're in an assistance center because you've just lost your home, all your belongings, and you escaped a devastating fire at the last minute, with just the clothes on your back. What are you supposed to say? No, Mr. President. I don't feel comforted by your arrival or your kind words. If your stupid military had less red tape, the federal planes that we so desperately needed would have been here sooner. But I understand that you don't really have time to worry about such things as your own citizens-- seeing as how you're so busy worrying about the Iraqis. I know, I know. I try not to get too political on my blog. And it certainly was a nice gesture. I'd probably be pissed if the President didn't even bother to tour the devastation and talk to people affected by the wildfires. But still, if you have to ask if people are comforted, I'm thinking that's a bad sign.
Ok. That wasn't the point of this post. The point was to let you all know that we're returning to life as usual-- or at least trying. The kids go back to school tomorrow. Casey will attend one of his best friend's birthday parties on Saturday. And in less than a week, we'll be eating chili with Jason's parents and trekking our little witch/wizard and our little butterfly all over our neighborhood for yummy Halloween loot, which we'll promptly confiscate after they're in bed, dolling out bits and pieces for about 5 days before telling them it's all gone because they ate it all.
Marcie has been putting on Casey's witch hat, saying, "I'm a witch," and then attempting to cackle. It cracks me up every time she does it. She wanted to be a banana for Halloween, but the banana costume didn't come in toddler size, so Casey helped us put together a butterfly costume for her instead. Gosh, I sure do love being a mom--the kids really ground me. . .
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Wildfire Update: Released to Go Home
We learned around 11:00 am this morning that we've been released to return home-- our entire city has. The winds appear to have died down significantly enough that they believe the embers from the homes that have burned won't blow toward our home. All told, somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 homes were lost in our small city. Those are losses that have been confirmed.
Casey had trouble sleeping last night. He kept waking up, telling me he was scared. And this morning when we told him we were going back home, he said he wanted to stay at Lucas's because of the big fire. But when we got back toward our home and told him we might be able to sleep at home tonight, he seemed relieved and happy.
I am so impressed with the way the county's residents handled the evacuations-- at least so far. Estimates put around 500,000 residents evacuated, and yet our shelters housed only around 10% of that, and maybe less. That means that over 400,000 people stayed with friends or family or in hotels (which were sold out). That means a lot of people opened their homes to displaced residents, and I personally am impressed by that. They have actually had to turn away donations at many of the evacuation centers because of the outpouring of community giving. The evacuation center near our home put out a request yesterday around 2pm for certain items. By 6pm they were requesting no more donations because they were fully stocked. I personally know at least one evacuee staying with family who brought stuff to the evacuation center after checking on his home yesterday. I think that's cool.
It will feel good to go home tonight. To clean out the ash and the soot. To sleep in my own bed. But I'm still pretty emotional about it all. And, again, it wasn't the thought of losing the house that was upsetting; it was the physical displacement of my kids.
The friends we stayed with were very gracious and generous. Their child-proofed home was an oasis for the kids, who had a blast on their extended play date. We entertained them with a trip to the Pt. Loma library (which has a boat in it) and an afternoon at J.W. Tumbles, which opened (for free!). When I get a bit more settled and swipe the photos from our friends, I'll post a few on the blog.
The schools are closed through the end of the week, but businesses began opening up again today. And my family had a trip planned to San Diego, which they plan to follow through on, which will help with child care. I'm still planning to head off to New York for work this weekend. I'm hopeful that as these things all happen, a sense of normalcy will return to our lives.
Casey had trouble sleeping last night. He kept waking up, telling me he was scared. And this morning when we told him we were going back home, he said he wanted to stay at Lucas's because of the big fire. But when we got back toward our home and told him we might be able to sleep at home tonight, he seemed relieved and happy.
I am so impressed with the way the county's residents handled the evacuations-- at least so far. Estimates put around 500,000 residents evacuated, and yet our shelters housed only around 10% of that, and maybe less. That means that over 400,000 people stayed with friends or family or in hotels (which were sold out). That means a lot of people opened their homes to displaced residents, and I personally am impressed by that. They have actually had to turn away donations at many of the evacuation centers because of the outpouring of community giving. The evacuation center near our home put out a request yesterday around 2pm for certain items. By 6pm they were requesting no more donations because they were fully stocked. I personally know at least one evacuee staying with family who brought stuff to the evacuation center after checking on his home yesterday. I think that's cool.
It will feel good to go home tonight. To clean out the ash and the soot. To sleep in my own bed. But I'm still pretty emotional about it all. And, again, it wasn't the thought of losing the house that was upsetting; it was the physical displacement of my kids.
The friends we stayed with were very gracious and generous. Their child-proofed home was an oasis for the kids, who had a blast on their extended play date. We entertained them with a trip to the Pt. Loma library (which has a boat in it) and an afternoon at J.W. Tumbles, which opened (for free!). When I get a bit more settled and swipe the photos from our friends, I'll post a few on the blog.
The schools are closed through the end of the week, but businesses began opening up again today. And my family had a trip planned to San Diego, which they plan to follow through on, which will help with child care. I'm still planning to head off to New York for work this weekend. I'm hopeful that as these things all happen, a sense of normalcy will return to our lives.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Still Evacuated
Along with about 10% of the county of San Diego, we're still evacuated. I can't tell from the news reports if the fire has spread closer to our home, but it appears the fire is burning west toward the coast. Of course, the winds are unpredictable, and we haven't been released for return-- but it looks like, at least for the time-being, our home will be okay. A friend did some recon, and he said things looked quiet last night. But this morning I read they had arrested some looters in Ramona, which doesn't surprise me in the least, though does sadden me.
What's more important, though, is that we're okay, we're all together, and our kids are enjoying themselves on the longest playdate ever. I admit it. I'm pretty freaked out. Much more than I was the last time-- and I could see flames from my house then. But, again, there weren't winds and they were able to sort of contain it. The Witch Fire, which is burning houses in our community, isn't at all contained yet, and it's been burning for a couple days now. Somehow, too, it feels like there's so much more to lose. I'm not talking about our stuff, because that's just stuff. But keeping our kids safe and comfortable-- and more importantly feeling safe and comfortable is hard when we're not feeling that way. But I suppose that's part of what parenting is about. Helping our kids live through disaster without really feeling affected by it. Maybe that's a crazy thought. But they're young.
The city of San Diego is pretty much shut down today, and we know our local schools are closed at least through tomorrow. So we're all home from work/ school (well, not home, but you know what I mean). These sure are interesting times . . .
What's more important, though, is that we're okay, we're all together, and our kids are enjoying themselves on the longest playdate ever. I admit it. I'm pretty freaked out. Much more than I was the last time-- and I could see flames from my house then. But, again, there weren't winds and they were able to sort of contain it. The Witch Fire, which is burning houses in our community, isn't at all contained yet, and it's been burning for a couple days now. Somehow, too, it feels like there's so much more to lose. I'm not talking about our stuff, because that's just stuff. But keeping our kids safe and comfortable-- and more importantly feeling safe and comfortable is hard when we're not feeling that way. But I suppose that's part of what parenting is about. Helping our kids live through disaster without really feeling affected by it. Maybe that's a crazy thought. But they're young.
The city of San Diego is pretty much shut down today, and we know our local schools are closed at least through tomorrow. So we're all home from work/ school (well, not home, but you know what I mean). These sure are interesting times . . .
Monday, October 22, 2007
San Diego Wildfire Update-- Evacuated
So much for us being safe and sound at home.
We were evacuated this morning.
We're fine. We don't believe our house is likely to find itself in any of the fires' paths, but the air quality is poor, and there are fires burning, literally, on pretty much all sides of our community.
We have taken up residence in our friends' house. Our kids our playing.
Sigh. I'll keep you posted.
We were evacuated this morning.
We're fine. We don't believe our house is likely to find itself in any of the fires' paths, but the air quality is poor, and there are fires burning, literally, on pretty much all sides of our community.
We have taken up residence in our friends' house. Our kids our playing.
Sigh. I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Wildfires--
For those of you who know where we live, yes, we are being affected by the Southern California Wildfires. Again.
The Santa Ana winds are awfully strong-- much stronger than they were in October 2003, the last time wildfires whipped through our area. In fact, I'm not even sure there were Santa Ana winds in 2003. But there are now. Averaging 35-40 miles per hour, and sometimes hitting 60 miles per hour.
We closed up all the windows around 1:00pm this afternoon, when the smell of smoke and the darkened sky became evident. But that hasn't prevented the ash, the soot, and the smoke from infiltrating just about everything.
Our home is in no immediate danger. We are not listed among those who should prepare to evacuate, and we have not been evacuated. We do not anticipate being evacuated. And for that we are quite grateful.
But the smoke is pretty bad. Our eyes burn. Our throats are scratchy. Our sinuses are being challenged by the smell of camp fire.
To combat this, we are camping out in the master bedroom tonight-- the whole family: dog, kids, us. We've turned on three hepa-filter air purifiers in there, and although it's really loud, the air quality is significantly better.
Our public schools are closed tomorrow. We don't know if the preschool is open. We don't know if Jason's office is open-- it's closer to the fires than our house is. We do know we'll be keeping the kids indoors, and maybe heading off to Aunt Tiffy's if the air remains clear(er) up there.
We'll keep you posted.
The Santa Ana winds are awfully strong-- much stronger than they were in October 2003, the last time wildfires whipped through our area. In fact, I'm not even sure there were Santa Ana winds in 2003. But there are now. Averaging 35-40 miles per hour, and sometimes hitting 60 miles per hour.
We closed up all the windows around 1:00pm this afternoon, when the smell of smoke and the darkened sky became evident. But that hasn't prevented the ash, the soot, and the smoke from infiltrating just about everything.
Our home is in no immediate danger. We are not listed among those who should prepare to evacuate, and we have not been evacuated. We do not anticipate being evacuated. And for that we are quite grateful.
But the smoke is pretty bad. Our eyes burn. Our throats are scratchy. Our sinuses are being challenged by the smell of camp fire.
To combat this, we are camping out in the master bedroom tonight-- the whole family: dog, kids, us. We've turned on three hepa-filter air purifiers in there, and although it's really loud, the air quality is significantly better.
Our public schools are closed tomorrow. We don't know if the preschool is open. We don't know if Jason's office is open-- it's closer to the fires than our house is. We do know we'll be keeping the kids indoors, and maybe heading off to Aunt Tiffy's if the air remains clear(er) up there.
We'll keep you posted.
Problem Solving Skills
A year or two ago Casey began escaping while I was in the shower. He'd just figured out how to open the front door. And he did. And he took little field trips around the neighborhood. One time, I discovered he was missing while I was in my towel and a neighbor had him back on our front stoop in the time it took me to throw on some clothes. As a result of this behavior and our acknowledgement that on occasion we'd have to leave him unattended while one of us was in the shower and the other one not around, we installed a hotel room-style safety latch. It's near the top of the door, as high up as I can reach with my arm stretched up toward the sky. This has worked like a charm. It's a little inconvenient when we have guests, because we have to remember to keep it unlocked. But for the most part it works well because we predominantly enter and exit the house through the garage door.
Today I stepped into the garage to collect some papers that had blown into the yard from the garage. The Santa Ana winds are pretty strong. And there's a brush far about 70 miles east. The high winds have picked up the smoke and dropped it squarely over our home. We did close up the windows and pump up the air purifiers to high, but the smell still permeates the house. I smell like I've been sitting at a bon fire.
I'd planned to take the kids out front with me this afternoon so we could hang up our Halloween decorations-- witch/skull streamers, a giant spider, and maybe a blow-up pumpkin with ghosts chasing each other inside. But the smoke has made that unhealthy. So instead, while I was in the garage putting away the papers I'd collected, I decided to at least hang our front door's welcome sign, replete with pumpkin costume on bear. In the box with all our seasonal welcome signs I found two wooden pumpkins that traditionally adorn our hallway table just inside the front door during October and November. Just then, the kids opened the door to the garage and poked out their heads, inquiring into my activity.
I handed each of them a pumpkin and asked them to take them inside. A minute or so later, I heard the doorbell ring. Again. And again. I thought this was strange since I'd just been outside and hadn't seen anyone approach the driveway. And the repeated rings suggested they were small hands busy at play. So I plowed into the living/play room calling for the kids, when I was stopped in my tracks. And darnit, I didn't have my camera on me.
There, in the hallway in front of the door was a kitchen chair and a little yellow playskool table chair pulled up behind it. The hotel-style lock had been unlatched, the front door unlocked, and I could hear little voices from the other side of the door.
I let the kids back in. They had misunderstood my directions and hand-carried the pumpkins through the house to the front stoop, where they lined them up in front of the door.
It was so cute, I just couldn't be mad. And even though I'm totally bummed Casey has used his problem-solving skills to figure out the hotel-style latch, I'm a tiny bit proud of him, too. And I suspect Marcie understood exactly what Casey was doing, as she had pulled up the little yellow chair so she could copy his activities.
So now I'm looking for new suggestions on how to keep my kids safely inside so that I can bathe every once in a while even if they are awake. Please share. Please.
Today I stepped into the garage to collect some papers that had blown into the yard from the garage. The Santa Ana winds are pretty strong. And there's a brush far about 70 miles east. The high winds have picked up the smoke and dropped it squarely over our home. We did close up the windows and pump up the air purifiers to high, but the smell still permeates the house. I smell like I've been sitting at a bon fire.
I'd planned to take the kids out front with me this afternoon so we could hang up our Halloween decorations-- witch/skull streamers, a giant spider, and maybe a blow-up pumpkin with ghosts chasing each other inside. But the smoke has made that unhealthy. So instead, while I was in the garage putting away the papers I'd collected, I decided to at least hang our front door's welcome sign, replete with pumpkin costume on bear. In the box with all our seasonal welcome signs I found two wooden pumpkins that traditionally adorn our hallway table just inside the front door during October and November. Just then, the kids opened the door to the garage and poked out their heads, inquiring into my activity.
I handed each of them a pumpkin and asked them to take them inside. A minute or so later, I heard the doorbell ring. Again. And again. I thought this was strange since I'd just been outside and hadn't seen anyone approach the driveway. And the repeated rings suggested they were small hands busy at play. So I plowed into the living/play room calling for the kids, when I was stopped in my tracks. And darnit, I didn't have my camera on me.
There, in the hallway in front of the door was a kitchen chair and a little yellow playskool table chair pulled up behind it. The hotel-style lock had been unlatched, the front door unlocked, and I could hear little voices from the other side of the door.
I let the kids back in. They had misunderstood my directions and hand-carried the pumpkins through the house to the front stoop, where they lined them up in front of the door.
It was so cute, I just couldn't be mad. And even though I'm totally bummed Casey has used his problem-solving skills to figure out the hotel-style latch, I'm a tiny bit proud of him, too. And I suspect Marcie understood exactly what Casey was doing, as she had pulled up the little yellow chair so she could copy his activities.
So now I'm looking for new suggestions on how to keep my kids safely inside so that I can bathe every once in a while even if they are awake. Please share. Please.
Pumpkin Patch
Every October, we like to head on up to Bates Nut Farm, where nuts from all over the world come together. Their pumpkin patch boasts a tractor hayride, a horse-drawn hayride, pony rides, a petting zoo, a bouncy house, a rock climbing wall, arts and crafts, and of course nuts, among other food items. I think there may be a corn maze. And of course there are pumpkins.
We've been to the pumpkin patch in sweltering heat, overcast skies, and even rain. This year was quite temperate, but super-windy, with 35 mile per hour santa ana winds (which are responsible for pushing a brush fire our way, actually, forcing us to close up our windows on this beautiful October Sunday).
This year we were fortunate to meet up with some of our friends. There a two couples we socialize with with relative frequency. The other two couples hang out with other couple friends, but we really don't much. Anyway, one of the cool things about them is that their kids are 6 months older than and younger than Marcie. I think of Marcie as "the bridge child," which really is silly because the oldest of the three, Lucas, is much more into Casey than Marcie. And the youngest of the three, Katelyn isn't really into anybody yet-- she's still too young. But in my head, I think our kids will be best friends because they're all close in age. And yeah, I know I shouldn't push that expectation on my kids. I mean just because I like their parents doesn't mean they have to like each other. But I'm digressing. The point of explaining these other two families is that I recently realized we've never tried to get pictures of all our kids together. Until today.
Below is a shot we got (our first one) of the four kids. And I love it. I think everything about this picture is a riot-- from what the sign says to Marcie's expression. It cracks me up.
It's not the only good shot we got of the kids. Though they aren't exactly looking at the camera in the rest of them. Here's Lucas and Casey clowning around:
And here's the best shot (sadly) I got of Marcie and Casey. One thing you'll notice is that the kids are wearing identical I heart Mom t-shirts. I had picked out orange and green tops for the kids, but Marcie insisted on these. She's become quite opinionated these days. And she's letting us know it. Or hear it, anyway. I can tell her second birthday isn't far off.
And the last shot I got of the kids was of them all hanging out in the pumpkins and eating a snack (one of their favorite things to do).
We also met up with some friends of ours who have kids who are a little older. It was so nice of them to trek all the way up to Valley Center to hop on a hayride and wander through the pumpkin patch with us. I'm always so impressed by how well-behaved their eight- and ten-year olds are. Casey spent quite a bit of time chasing their 10-year-old all over the pumpkin patch. And I even snapped a couple photos of Casey with him-- which I'm withholding for privacy sake because I haven't asked his parents for permission. Suffice to say, Casey had a blast following the 10-year-old's lead. And then Casey had a monstrous meltdown. He couldn't adequately express to me what he was so upset about, but his whining was getting on my nerves and the random screeching he directed at me told me it was time to race home. So we immediately did just that. Without even so much as a good-bye to our friends! Yikes! Their parents, though, so I'm hopeful they understood what happened. Casey didn't really calm down even after we got home-- but he is napping now.
We've been to the pumpkin patch in sweltering heat, overcast skies, and even rain. This year was quite temperate, but super-windy, with 35 mile per hour santa ana winds (which are responsible for pushing a brush fire our way, actually, forcing us to close up our windows on this beautiful October Sunday).
This year we were fortunate to meet up with some of our friends. There a two couples we socialize with with relative frequency. The other two couples hang out with other couple friends, but we really don't much. Anyway, one of the cool things about them is that their kids are 6 months older than and younger than Marcie. I think of Marcie as "the bridge child," which really is silly because the oldest of the three, Lucas, is much more into Casey than Marcie. And the youngest of the three, Katelyn isn't really into anybody yet-- she's still too young. But in my head, I think our kids will be best friends because they're all close in age. And yeah, I know I shouldn't push that expectation on my kids. I mean just because I like their parents doesn't mean they have to like each other. But I'm digressing. The point of explaining these other two families is that I recently realized we've never tried to get pictures of all our kids together. Until today.
Below is a shot we got (our first one) of the four kids. And I love it. I think everything about this picture is a riot-- from what the sign says to Marcie's expression. It cracks me up.
It's not the only good shot we got of the kids. Though they aren't exactly looking at the camera in the rest of them. Here's Lucas and Casey clowning around:
And here's the best shot (sadly) I got of Marcie and Casey. One thing you'll notice is that the kids are wearing identical I heart Mom t-shirts. I had picked out orange and green tops for the kids, but Marcie insisted on these. She's become quite opinionated these days. And she's letting us know it. Or hear it, anyway. I can tell her second birthday isn't far off.
And the last shot I got of the kids was of them all hanging out in the pumpkins and eating a snack (one of their favorite things to do).
We also met up with some friends of ours who have kids who are a little older. It was so nice of them to trek all the way up to Valley Center to hop on a hayride and wander through the pumpkin patch with us. I'm always so impressed by how well-behaved their eight- and ten-year olds are. Casey spent quite a bit of time chasing their 10-year-old all over the pumpkin patch. And I even snapped a couple photos of Casey with him-- which I'm withholding for privacy sake because I haven't asked his parents for permission. Suffice to say, Casey had a blast following the 10-year-old's lead. And then Casey had a monstrous meltdown. He couldn't adequately express to me what he was so upset about, but his whining was getting on my nerves and the random screeching he directed at me told me it was time to race home. So we immediately did just that. Without even so much as a good-bye to our friends! Yikes! Their parents, though, so I'm hopeful they understood what happened. Casey didn't really calm down even after we got home-- but he is napping now. Oh. And although Marcie's not smiling in this picture, I promise she's having a good time. Here's our annual family pumpkin patch photo:
Thursday, October 18, 2007
"I Would Gather Children"
Last summer Jason began telling people we plan to have five children. It was news to me. But I wasn't upset by his statements-- more amused than anything. Shocked, people would say to me, "FIVE?!? REALLY?!?" And I'd just laugh it off.
But truthfully, I have never really given any thought to the number of children we'd have in the end. I mean, I knew I wanted three. But I didn't foreclose on the idea of more.
There are plenty of reasons not to have a troupe of children, high among them the costs associated with raising them. I could post about the estimated cost of raising a child today, but it's not actually the point of this post. Children are expensive. It's true. But they are more than money-sucking-machines.
One thing I love about my parents is that they really appreciate me and my three siblings. And they tell us. They tell us how happy they are to see us happy. To see us enjoy our time with our own children. To see how in love we are with our respective spouses (and fiance in Megan's case). My parents know many people who have more expendible cash either because they opted for children-free lifestyles or because they opted to wait (and collect financial resources) before starting a family. And I've heard them comment frequently that they are happy they started their family young, happy to have four children-- they may know others with more cash, my dad recently told me, but they would be hard-pressed to find others as rich as they are. And he's probably right.
It's definitely a life philosophy.
Today I came across this poem, and it made me think of Jason and his announcement last summer that we were going to have five children (which we actually haven't decided, by the way-- all we've decided at this juncture is that we definitely want three kids). So I'll end this post with these words:
But truthfully, I have never really given any thought to the number of children we'd have in the end. I mean, I knew I wanted three. But I didn't foreclose on the idea of more.
There are plenty of reasons not to have a troupe of children, high among them the costs associated with raising them. I could post about the estimated cost of raising a child today, but it's not actually the point of this post. Children are expensive. It's true. But they are more than money-sucking-machines.
One thing I love about my parents is that they really appreciate me and my three siblings. And they tell us. They tell us how happy they are to see us happy. To see us enjoy our time with our own children. To see how in love we are with our respective spouses (and fiance in Megan's case). My parents know many people who have more expendible cash either because they opted for children-free lifestyles or because they opted to wait (and collect financial resources) before starting a family. And I've heard them comment frequently that they are happy they started their family young, happy to have four children-- they may know others with more cash, my dad recently told me, but they would be hard-pressed to find others as rich as they are. And he's probably right.
It's definitely a life philosophy.
Today I came across this poem, and it made me think of Jason and his announcement last summer that we were going to have five children (which we actually haven't decided, by the way-- all we've decided at this juncture is that we definitely want three kids). So I'll end this post with these words:
I Would Gather Children
-- author unknown
Some would gather money
Along the path of life,
Some would gather roses,
And rest from worldly strife.
But I would gather children
From among the thorns of sin,
I would seek a golden curl,
And a freckled, toothless grin.
For money cannot enter
In that land of endless day,
And roses that are gathered
Soon will wilt along the way.
But oh, the laughing children,
As I cross the sunset sea,
And the gates swing wide to heaven
I can take them in with me!
Addendum to Run Off the Road
Tonight I headed out for another jog through the neighborhood.
Once again, I donned my reflective shoes, shorts, and running vest.
Paranoid that I'd run into that darned CRV driver, I jumped up on the sidewalk pretty much every time a semi-SUV-looking vehicle headed toward me.
Near the end of my run, as I was getting ready to run the big hill back up to my house, a convertible with two male passengers slowed to a stop. I ran toward them and could see the driver was talking to me, but I couldn't hear what he was saying over my i-tunes. Thinking that perhaps they were lost, and keeping my distance, I pulled an earbud out of my right ear to listen:
"I just wanted to compliment you on your vest," he called to me.
"Oh?"
"Yes. It's very good. I could see it from really far away."
"That's the idea," I called back.
"Well, it works," he said. "It took us a long time to reach you-- we could see the vest for such a long time. Just thought you should know how well it works!"
"Thanks," I grinned.
And away he drove, me following slowly behind, trudging up the hill home. Somehow, I felt redeemed. . .
Once again, I donned my reflective shoes, shorts, and running vest.
Paranoid that I'd run into that darned CRV driver, I jumped up on the sidewalk pretty much every time a semi-SUV-looking vehicle headed toward me.
Near the end of my run, as I was getting ready to run the big hill back up to my house, a convertible with two male passengers slowed to a stop. I ran toward them and could see the driver was talking to me, but I couldn't hear what he was saying over my i-tunes. Thinking that perhaps they were lost, and keeping my distance, I pulled an earbud out of my right ear to listen:
"I just wanted to compliment you on your vest," he called to me.
"Oh?"
"Yes. It's very good. I could see it from really far away."
"That's the idea," I called back.
"Well, it works," he said. "It took us a long time to reach you-- we could see the vest for such a long time. Just thought you should know how well it works!"
"Thanks," I grinned.
And away he drove, me following slowly behind, trudging up the hill home. Somehow, I felt redeemed. . .
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Run Off the Road
I've been pretty good about working out on my lunch hour, but today it didn't happen. I tried to run on the treadmill while Casey was at swim class, but Marcie saw me and she wasn't going to leave me in the "wellness" room. So after only five minutes, I stopped. Later after we got home and got the kids settled in eating dinner, I decided to go for a run through the neighborhood.
Now, when I run at night, I wear running shoes with reflectors, I wear a light colored shirt, and sometimes I wear my visor with reflectors or my lightweight running jacket with reflectors (tonight I wore the jacket). Then, I wear a reflector vest so that I'm easily visible.
Also, when I run, I don't run on sidewalks if I can help it. I run on the side of the road, just outside the gutter on the asphalt. I run facing traffic (not with it). And if I see a car headed toward me and there's a parked car in the road, I jump back on to the sidewalk so I don't freak out the driver.
The reason I run in the street is because it's a softer surface and better for my knees. Also, the up and down of the sidewalk with the driveways make it an uneven surface, more likely I'll lose my footing and also not so great for my knees. The reason I run facing/toward traffic is because I want to make sure drivers see me, and even if they don't I certainly see them, so I can get out of dodge if I have to.
I'm pretty careful and pretty respectful. I don't stay in the street on corners where I know cars take the corner tightly. I run in well-lit places. I run through the neighborhood and never on the main thoroughfare because it's better lit and feels safer. If I were to get injured, at least I could crawl to a nearby house or something. And even though I could run on the dirt track at the park at the end of the street, which is lit and closed to cars, there are a lot of bushes and it just doesn't feel self for a girl alone at night.
But tonight some asshole decided it'd be funny to run me off the run. Or to try to. And I don't know that it was a guy. I just have a hard time calling a woman an asshole-- seems like a term more appropriate for a man.
So I was running on a flat part of the neighborhood (there's only one flat section in my neighborhood, and it's less than half a mile stretch). There were two cars heading in my direction. I was just past a streetlight. There were no parked cars on the road. And as this Honda CRV passed me, it veered directly into me, and the driver leaned on the horn.
I was more startled by the horn than the swerve, and I turned to try to catch a glimpse of the license plate, but it wasn't in a lit frame, so I missed it. Plus, I knew there was another car headed my way.
It happened too quickly for me to get all the way up on the sidewalk. And to be honest, if I had made that leap, I would have landed literally into a set of mailboxes. I muttered a couple of choice words that I won't put in writing here. But they sure wouldn't make my mom proud, and I kept on running. I ran through the scenarios-- what if the car came back for me? Where would I go? Would I be confrontational? Would I run like hell in the opposite direction of the car? Should I try to find where the car went so I could report it?
In the end, I just ran. And ran. And felt super paranoid for the remaining 20 minutes of the run. I never saw the CRV again. And I didn't change the way I ran. So if the asshole was trying to "teach me a lesson," all I learned was to pay closer attention to license plate numbers when running in the dark. I mean, really. Was it supposed to be funny? Was I supposed to scream? Was he trying to teach me a lesson? There's no city ordinance against running in the street. Runners and pedestrians in generally don't have to follow the typical road rules followed by cyclists and drivers.
If I'd gotten the license plate number, I really do think I'd file a report. Who wants an asshole like that speeding through their neighborhood? There are much better ways to express yourself than attempting to scare the heck out of someone. Someone trying to keep stress down and weight off, no less. Someone trying to lead a healthy life.
Come to think of it, isn't there a tort I could sue for? I just had a flash back to Bar Review-- and studying assault. In criminal law it has two meanings: attempted battery or intentionally causing anxiety or fear. In tort it's just the latter. . . Hmm. Well, nothing I can do about it now, except keeping my eyes open for the white- CRV-driving asshole in my neighborhood. Yeah. Good times.
Now, when I run at night, I wear running shoes with reflectors, I wear a light colored shirt, and sometimes I wear my visor with reflectors or my lightweight running jacket with reflectors (tonight I wore the jacket). Then, I wear a reflector vest so that I'm easily visible.
Also, when I run, I don't run on sidewalks if I can help it. I run on the side of the road, just outside the gutter on the asphalt. I run facing traffic (not with it). And if I see a car headed toward me and there's a parked car in the road, I jump back on to the sidewalk so I don't freak out the driver.
The reason I run in the street is because it's a softer surface and better for my knees. Also, the up and down of the sidewalk with the driveways make it an uneven surface, more likely I'll lose my footing and also not so great for my knees. The reason I run facing/toward traffic is because I want to make sure drivers see me, and even if they don't I certainly see them, so I can get out of dodge if I have to.
I'm pretty careful and pretty respectful. I don't stay in the street on corners where I know cars take the corner tightly. I run in well-lit places. I run through the neighborhood and never on the main thoroughfare because it's better lit and feels safer. If I were to get injured, at least I could crawl to a nearby house or something. And even though I could run on the dirt track at the park at the end of the street, which is lit and closed to cars, there are a lot of bushes and it just doesn't feel self for a girl alone at night.
But tonight some asshole decided it'd be funny to run me off the run. Or to try to. And I don't know that it was a guy. I just have a hard time calling a woman an asshole-- seems like a term more appropriate for a man.
So I was running on a flat part of the neighborhood (there's only one flat section in my neighborhood, and it's less than half a mile stretch). There were two cars heading in my direction. I was just past a streetlight. There were no parked cars on the road. And as this Honda CRV passed me, it veered directly into me, and the driver leaned on the horn.
I was more startled by the horn than the swerve, and I turned to try to catch a glimpse of the license plate, but it wasn't in a lit frame, so I missed it. Plus, I knew there was another car headed my way.
It happened too quickly for me to get all the way up on the sidewalk. And to be honest, if I had made that leap, I would have landed literally into a set of mailboxes. I muttered a couple of choice words that I won't put in writing here. But they sure wouldn't make my mom proud, and I kept on running. I ran through the scenarios-- what if the car came back for me? Where would I go? Would I be confrontational? Would I run like hell in the opposite direction of the car? Should I try to find where the car went so I could report it?
In the end, I just ran. And ran. And felt super paranoid for the remaining 20 minutes of the run. I never saw the CRV again. And I didn't change the way I ran. So if the asshole was trying to "teach me a lesson," all I learned was to pay closer attention to license plate numbers when running in the dark. I mean, really. Was it supposed to be funny? Was I supposed to scream? Was he trying to teach me a lesson? There's no city ordinance against running in the street. Runners and pedestrians in generally don't have to follow the typical road rules followed by cyclists and drivers.
If I'd gotten the license plate number, I really do think I'd file a report. Who wants an asshole like that speeding through their neighborhood? There are much better ways to express yourself than attempting to scare the heck out of someone. Someone trying to keep stress down and weight off, no less. Someone trying to lead a healthy life.
Come to think of it, isn't there a tort I could sue for? I just had a flash back to Bar Review-- and studying assault. In criminal law it has two meanings: attempted battery or intentionally causing anxiety or fear. In tort it's just the latter. . . Hmm. Well, nothing I can do about it now, except keeping my eyes open for the white- CRV-driving asshole in my neighborhood. Yeah. Good times.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
The Weekend in Review
Ok, so I cheated a little. The first two photos are of Casey and Marcie on their respective school field trips to the pumpkin patch last week. Fortunately, Other Grandma (my mom) was in town to take Marcie.The rest of the photos highlight the weekend. The third photo cut off Geoff's head, unfortunately, but those are "the boys" in Vegas, and the next picture (row two, far left) is of "the girls." Both were taken at the Four Seasons, which has the most amazing breakfast buffet, complete with a donut guy who made me two donuts to order while I watched (and directed). I felt slightly entitled because I'd actually gotten up by 8:30am and gone running on the spa treadmill. It was a pricey run ($27 just for day access!), making me think I should have just scheduled a treatment and gotten the access for free! Once again, though, I digress.
The next series of photos are Casey and his cousin Joey at the annual Fire Station Open House. It was rainy (which San Diego really needed, so no complaints from me-- particularly given that I was out of town). Then, the bottom row, middle, is of me and my dad. The last time I took a photo with him, I was sticking my tongue out and he was looking on disgustedly. It was his idea of a practical joke on me, and if I had more time, I'd link to the original post with that picture, but I'm too lazy to search the archives, so you'll just have to trust my description of things. Anyway, while my mom was here in So. Cal., Dad was able to schedule an overnight in Vegas. So he joined the gang for dinner at Michael Mena's Strip Steak, the new restaurant at Mandalay Bay. Dad was good, too-- he had salmon, not steak. It was fun to catch up with him; it always is.
And the last photo is one Casey took tonight at dinner. After we returned home, we headed over to the Halloween Super Store to help Casey pick out a witch costume. He has his heart set on it-- just like in the Charlie Brown show. And although he initially told us he wanted a green face, once he saw what that meant (make-up), he changed his mind. But he loves the hat he picked out. We still haven't decided on anything for Marcie just yet. And neither has she. Anyway, the store was right next door to Casey's favorite restaurant, and after our last debacle there (where Jason ended up with cold food, my burger was missing half the bun, the server literally threw a cup of apple juice at us, and we were seated in a bustling mall alleyway), this was a much better experience. Really, it was like eating at a completely different restaurant! Casey's getting pretty good at snapping photos, and even though he cut off Jason's head a bit, I love the picture of Marcie with her dad.
One last thing-- my mom did manage to make pumpkin pie from scratch. Two of them. Jason says it's delicious (I haven't tasted it yet). Casey, who was the one all gung-ho about doing it, took one, gigantic bite, then practically gagged and spit the pumpkin pie out. It was fun to help make it, but he won't be partaking in pumpkin pie again any time soon (wish I had a photo of his expression!). . .
Alas, it is Sunday night, and I'll be off to bed soon. When I was in law school, I never went to bed before 11pm or midnight. Now I'm lucky to make it to 10pm. And I'm at least a week behind in television! Geesh!
Friday, October 12, 2007
It's Official: We're Paper Pregnant!
We have our official Log-In-Date (LID)! This is wonderful news. It's the date China will use to match us with B.S. #3.
Our LID is October 9, 2007!
If the current estimates of 24 months pan out, we should be traveling in early December of 2009.
If the (more likely) speculation pans out (a 36 month wait), we should be traveling near the end of 2010. Yeah, it's a little later than we'd like, putting five years of distance (well, maybe 4 1/2) between Marcie and B.S. #3, but anything can happen.
And if the wait looks like it'll stretch longer than three years . . . well, I'd prefer not to contemplate that possibility. But being a worst-case-scenario planner, I realize that we may get antsy waiting and take alternative action in the mean time (translation: adopt another child while we wait for B.S. #3, who I suppose would become B.S. #4 at that point-- though, technically, if we label our kids in order of when we started the process, B.S. #3 will always be B.S. #3 even if he or she arrives fourth. But I digress).
So Other Grandma (the name my kids have given my mom) is in town this weekend, and Jason and I are off to Autumn in Vegas for a couple nights. Looks like we have something to celebrate (other than the new job, I mean).
The kids will keep O.G. (Other Grandma) busy-- yesterday they sliced up the pumpkin and cooked it like squash and mashed it. I think they plan to make a real pumpkin pie from scratch tonight (aren't grandmas great?!?). And tomorrow they're going to the annual fire station open house (after music and sports classes, of course).
Our LID is October 9, 2007!
If the current estimates of 24 months pan out, we should be traveling in early December of 2009.
If the (more likely) speculation pans out (a 36 month wait), we should be traveling near the end of 2010. Yeah, it's a little later than we'd like, putting five years of distance (well, maybe 4 1/2) between Marcie and B.S. #3, but anything can happen.
And if the wait looks like it'll stretch longer than three years . . . well, I'd prefer not to contemplate that possibility. But being a worst-case-scenario planner, I realize that we may get antsy waiting and take alternative action in the mean time (translation: adopt another child while we wait for B.S. #3, who I suppose would become B.S. #4 at that point-- though, technically, if we label our kids in order of when we started the process, B.S. #3 will always be B.S. #3 even if he or she arrives fourth. But I digress).
So Other Grandma (the name my kids have given my mom) is in town this weekend, and Jason and I are off to Autumn in Vegas for a couple nights. Looks like we have something to celebrate (other than the new job, I mean).
The kids will keep O.G. (Other Grandma) busy-- yesterday they sliced up the pumpkin and cooked it like squash and mashed it. I think they plan to make a real pumpkin pie from scratch tonight (aren't grandmas great?!?). And tomorrow they're going to the annual fire station open house (after music and sports classes, of course).
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Pictures at long last
Finally I have some images to share!
Marcie eating ice cream (what a mess!):
Marcie's 100 Good Wishes Quilt (isn't it gorgeous?!?):
Casey riding the bus to school for the first time:
Video of Casey and his friend Lucas at Baby Loves Disco (I've never tried uploading video before, so I hope this works!):
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Keepin' Busy
So today I actually went running during my lunch hour. And took a shower. In a public locker room. I can't remember the last time I did that. Heck, I'm not sure I've ever done that. Maybe once. Do dorms count? Hmm.
So I opted to join the Y. It's not as nice as the super-swank gym in the office building. In fact, it's downright dungeon-like. But after checking out the Y near our house over the weekend and discovering they offer affordable year-round swim lessons, it was hard to justify joining the swank gym. Instead, we joined the Y as a family. We signed up Casey for baseball and swimming, and now that I'm home when the kids go to bed, Jason can even go work out if he wants. So the Y it is.
Aside from running, though, I'm keeping busy. At work. But just as much at home, too. This past weekend, Marcie had music and Casey had sports. Then after nap Jason headed off to a birthday party with Casey and Marcie. They got to see their cousins Joey and Ethan and their cousins, too.
Sunday Casey insisted we go to church. I was exhausted because I'd spent Saturday afternoon and evening scrapbooking (working on Marcie's baby book finally). It wasn't until we were on our way that I realized Casey's real motivation-- he knows if he behaves during church that he gets to go to the Walter Anderson's afterward to watch the trains run through the Bonsai display. After watching the trains, we made a special stop at Starbucks for child-friendly snacks, then headed over to the Y to enroll. After naps, Casey boogied it up at Baby Loves Disco here in San Diego. We met up with a couple of his friends and he danced away at a night club set up for toddlers and preschoolers. The best part was after the hula hoop contest, which Casey didn't participate in. That didn't keep him from slowly making his way to the front of the dance floor during the announcements of the winners. When the woman finished awarding the hula hoop prizes, I saw her say something to Casey, who was standing directly below her. Then she put out the microphone toward him, and I heard Casey's voice over the speakers say, "CASEY!" and then I observed him clapping for himself. It cracked me up. He did run around a bit, but mainly he was enthralled with the projection of the They Might Be Giants DVD of alphabet songs onto a wall in the club. He recognized the video immediately, but it took me a couple songs before I realized what it was. I don't know what he liked more-- seeing the videos or watching his shadow on the wall! Anyway, I will post pictures as soon as I download them.
Yesterday Jason joined Casey's class at the pumpkin patch and bought an extra pumpkin. Jason convinced Casey that Other Grandma (the name Casey has given my mother because she doesn't live in our city) can make pumpkin pies from actual pumpkins. I tried explaining that my mom usually uses the pumpkin that comes in a can, but it was to no avail. You see, my mom is coming to visit for the next few days, and Casey has been chatting to her on the phone, insisting that she make pumpkin pie with him-- from actual pumpkins. Jason and I will be out of town for a couple days, so I'm interested to see what Mom and the kids come up with while we're gone! (I'm personally all for pretending to heat up/mush up the pumpkin or whatever you do and just pouring the canned pumpkin in the bowl to show what happened during nap time or something!)
I guess that's about all. Oh. Except that the top of Marcie's 100 Good Wishes Quilt is finally complete! Vicki, who I used to work with, has been working on it for about a year now-- and it really is amazingly gorgeous. I was thinking of not doing one for B.S. #3, but after seeing Marcie's, I think I'm going to. Well, I'm not going to quilt it, but I think I will ask for that fabric from friends, family, and strangers alike! :) I'll post pictures soon. I promise.
So I opted to join the Y. It's not as nice as the super-swank gym in the office building. In fact, it's downright dungeon-like. But after checking out the Y near our house over the weekend and discovering they offer affordable year-round swim lessons, it was hard to justify joining the swank gym. Instead, we joined the Y as a family. We signed up Casey for baseball and swimming, and now that I'm home when the kids go to bed, Jason can even go work out if he wants. So the Y it is.
Aside from running, though, I'm keeping busy. At work. But just as much at home, too. This past weekend, Marcie had music and Casey had sports. Then after nap Jason headed off to a birthday party with Casey and Marcie. They got to see their cousins Joey and Ethan and their cousins, too.
Sunday Casey insisted we go to church. I was exhausted because I'd spent Saturday afternoon and evening scrapbooking (working on Marcie's baby book finally). It wasn't until we were on our way that I realized Casey's real motivation-- he knows if he behaves during church that he gets to go to the Walter Anderson's afterward to watch the trains run through the Bonsai display. After watching the trains, we made a special stop at Starbucks for child-friendly snacks, then headed over to the Y to enroll. After naps, Casey boogied it up at Baby Loves Disco here in San Diego. We met up with a couple of his friends and he danced away at a night club set up for toddlers and preschoolers. The best part was after the hula hoop contest, which Casey didn't participate in. That didn't keep him from slowly making his way to the front of the dance floor during the announcements of the winners. When the woman finished awarding the hula hoop prizes, I saw her say something to Casey, who was standing directly below her. Then she put out the microphone toward him, and I heard Casey's voice over the speakers say, "CASEY!" and then I observed him clapping for himself. It cracked me up. He did run around a bit, but mainly he was enthralled with the projection of the They Might Be Giants DVD of alphabet songs onto a wall in the club. He recognized the video immediately, but it took me a couple songs before I realized what it was. I don't know what he liked more-- seeing the videos or watching his shadow on the wall! Anyway, I will post pictures as soon as I download them.
Yesterday Jason joined Casey's class at the pumpkin patch and bought an extra pumpkin. Jason convinced Casey that Other Grandma (the name Casey has given my mother because she doesn't live in our city) can make pumpkin pies from actual pumpkins. I tried explaining that my mom usually uses the pumpkin that comes in a can, but it was to no avail. You see, my mom is coming to visit for the next few days, and Casey has been chatting to her on the phone, insisting that she make pumpkin pie with him-- from actual pumpkins. Jason and I will be out of town for a couple days, so I'm interested to see what Mom and the kids come up with while we're gone! (I'm personally all for pretending to heat up/mush up the pumpkin or whatever you do and just pouring the canned pumpkin in the bowl to show what happened during nap time or something!)
I guess that's about all. Oh. Except that the top of Marcie's 100 Good Wishes Quilt is finally complete! Vicki, who I used to work with, has been working on it for about a year now-- and it really is amazingly gorgeous. I was thinking of not doing one for B.S. #3, but after seeing Marcie's, I think I'm going to. Well, I'm not going to quilt it, but I think I will ask for that fabric from friends, family, and strangers alike! :) I'll post pictures soon. I promise.
Monday, October 08, 2007
B.S. # 3- Dossier Delivered
We just received word from our agency that our dossier was hand-delivered today to the CCAA (China Center of Adoption Affairs). Though it's in their hands, they have not officially logged it in yet. It's that LID date that's magic! We'll keep you posted. . .
Friday, October 05, 2007
Stuck in an Elevator
No, the elevator didn't break down. And there wasn't an emergency that necessitated stopping the elevator, either. But I somehow still managed to get stuck in the elevator when I left work this evening.
I was working on a project and lost track of time. Suddenly I realized I needed to be at the pool with Jason to pick up Marcie in 15 minutes' time. But the drive is 35 minutes from work. So I packed up my things, and booked out. As I rode the elevator down to the lobby, I dug through my bag for my car keys, but I couldn't find them. When I got the bottom floor, I still hadn't found them, so I figured I must have left them in one of my desk drawers.
By the time I came to this conclusion, the elevator door had closed and I was alone. I pushed the button to my floor, but the elevator didn't move. Unconcerned, I realized it must be after hours. So I pulled out my key card and followed the directions on it. There's a slot in the elevator below the floor buttons with an arrow. And the key card says "This side up" and has a directional arrow as well. So I inserted the card, slid it through the slot, and then pushed the button to my floor. Nothing happened.
I tried a couple more times. Then I tried flipping the card around, sticking it in the long way, sliding it the other direction. Nothing worked. Sometime during all this, Jason called and asked where I was. I explained I was stuck and that I'd call him back. I also noted that I had reception in the elevator. From my cell phone provider which has a terrible network. Next thing I knew, the elevator was moving. Up. I had no idea why.
It stopped two floors above my floor, but the doors didn't open. I guess some of the elevators hang out by the higher floors so they come more quickly when they are called. Frustrated, I finally pushed L for lobby, and the elevator took me back down to the bottom floor.
I exited, made my way to the guard area, and explained I needed to get back up to my office where I'd left my keys. I showed the gentlemen by key card and asked if they would show me how to use it. One of the guys sighed but agreed to follow me.
And as luck would have it, just as he was showing me how to use it, someone else actually got on the elevator. And used his card. I felt seriously dumb.
Once I got back up to the office, I discovered that my keys were, in fact, with me the entire time. I'd apparently torn the lining of my purse and the keys had slipped into the space between the purse exterior and the lining.
Needless to say, I didn't make it to Casey's last swim lesson before it ended. And I didn't get there in time to save Marcie from hanging out in the men's locker room while Casey showered. I don't know, though, the thought of my daughter in the men's locker room, even if she's not quite two yet, sounds a little more disturbing than my son in the woman's locker room. I know, it's sexist of me. But what do you want from a law school grad who gets stuck in an elevator her first week on the job?
I was working on a project and lost track of time. Suddenly I realized I needed to be at the pool with Jason to pick up Marcie in 15 minutes' time. But the drive is 35 minutes from work. So I packed up my things, and booked out. As I rode the elevator down to the lobby, I dug through my bag for my car keys, but I couldn't find them. When I got the bottom floor, I still hadn't found them, so I figured I must have left them in one of my desk drawers.
By the time I came to this conclusion, the elevator door had closed and I was alone. I pushed the button to my floor, but the elevator didn't move. Unconcerned, I realized it must be after hours. So I pulled out my key card and followed the directions on it. There's a slot in the elevator below the floor buttons with an arrow. And the key card says "This side up" and has a directional arrow as well. So I inserted the card, slid it through the slot, and then pushed the button to my floor. Nothing happened.
I tried a couple more times. Then I tried flipping the card around, sticking it in the long way, sliding it the other direction. Nothing worked. Sometime during all this, Jason called and asked where I was. I explained I was stuck and that I'd call him back. I also noted that I had reception in the elevator. From my cell phone provider which has a terrible network. Next thing I knew, the elevator was moving. Up. I had no idea why.
It stopped two floors above my floor, but the doors didn't open. I guess some of the elevators hang out by the higher floors so they come more quickly when they are called. Frustrated, I finally pushed L for lobby, and the elevator took me back down to the bottom floor.
I exited, made my way to the guard area, and explained I needed to get back up to my office where I'd left my keys. I showed the gentlemen by key card and asked if they would show me how to use it. One of the guys sighed but agreed to follow me.
And as luck would have it, just as he was showing me how to use it, someone else actually got on the elevator. And used his card. I felt seriously dumb.
Once I got back up to the office, I discovered that my keys were, in fact, with me the entire time. I'd apparently torn the lining of my purse and the keys had slipped into the space between the purse exterior and the lining.
Needless to say, I didn't make it to Casey's last swim lesson before it ended. And I didn't get there in time to save Marcie from hanging out in the men's locker room while Casey showered. I don't know, though, the thought of my daughter in the men's locker room, even if she's not quite two yet, sounds a little more disturbing than my son in the woman's locker room. I know, it's sexist of me. But what do you want from a law school grad who gets stuck in an elevator her first week on the job?
BS # 3-- DTC (Date to China)
Woo Hoo! We received an e-mail this morning. Our completed dossier was mailed to China yesterday. That means our DTC, or date-to-China is October 4, 2007.
China used to match families based on the date their paperwork was mailed, not the date it was received, which is why the DTC matters. Now China matches families to babies (or vice versa) based on the date the dossier was received, or logged in (this is the LID). There is some theory that on occasion, when China doesn't get all the way through a particular date, or if that were to happen, they would honor the DTC. That means that if my paperwork was sent October 4th, but China didn't log it in until October 20th for some reason, theoretically we should get matched before someone who mailed their paperwork October 10th with the same LID of October 20th. Not sure that's accurate. Anymore at least.
We should know our DTC within the next 8 weeks. That doesn't mean our LID will be some time in December; it just means that we'll know what our LID is by early December.
To further complicate things, China has an enormous Trade Fair in October, and the CCAA shuts down for a while (maybe a week?) during it. They were closed this week (October 1-5, 2007). Our paperwork won't arrive for a few days (it usually takes about 4 days), so it may not impact us.
In any event, once we have our LID, we'll officially be paper pregnant for B.S. #3.
Still, a DTC is something to celebrate!
China used to match families based on the date their paperwork was mailed, not the date it was received, which is why the DTC matters. Now China matches families to babies (or vice versa) based on the date the dossier was received, or logged in (this is the LID). There is some theory that on occasion, when China doesn't get all the way through a particular date, or if that were to happen, they would honor the DTC. That means that if my paperwork was sent October 4th, but China didn't log it in until October 20th for some reason, theoretically we should get matched before someone who mailed their paperwork October 10th with the same LID of October 20th. Not sure that's accurate. Anymore at least.
We should know our DTC within the next 8 weeks. That doesn't mean our LID will be some time in December; it just means that we'll know what our LID is by early December.
To further complicate things, China has an enormous Trade Fair in October, and the CCAA shuts down for a while (maybe a week?) during it. They were closed this week (October 1-5, 2007). Our paperwork won't arrive for a few days (it usually takes about 4 days), so it may not impact us.
In any event, once we have our LID, we'll officially be paper pregnant for B.S. #3.
Still, a DTC is something to celebrate!
Monday, October 01, 2007
B.S. #3-- On to Translation
We made it through our adoption agency's critical review. I was a little nervous because we're supposed to send 8 family life photos of both Jason and me with other people doing stuff. Truth be told, we're actually pretty active, but one of us is usually taking the photos! So we had several photos of both of us with Marcie, and several of us just the two of us. Even one or two of our whole family. But not many "outsiders" this time. Guess it was fine.
So now our dossier moves into translation, which is when our agency provides translated summaries of all the major information before binding everything together to send it to China, where it's hand-delivered to CCAA (the China Center for Adoption Affairs). CCAI (our agency) estimates it will send out our dossier within a week. That will be our DTC (date to China).
We'll definitely update you all again when there's more news to share!
So now our dossier moves into translation, which is when our agency provides translated summaries of all the major information before binding everything together to send it to China, where it's hand-delivered to CCAA (the China Center for Adoption Affairs). CCAI (our agency) estimates it will send out our dossier within a week. That will be our DTC (date to China).
We'll definitely update you all again when there's more news to share!
New Day, New Job
Today I started my new job. I'm not an attorney yet. You have to be admitted to practice to be considered an attorney. I'm just a law school grad being paid to work as, basically, a law clerk. Which means conducting research, writing memos, doing grunt and shadowing real-life attorneys.
Of course, I didn't do any of that today. Today was a luxuriously slow-start to what I hope will be a busy career. Today we attended and participated in computer training. Which consisted of reviewing how to access, edit, and send documents which are all housed in a central computer. We ate lunch and listened to the firm's risk management presentation, which was a reminder of our professional responsibilities. Aside from not being able to call myself a lawyer yet, I am also forbidden from giving any legal advice to friends or family. Ever. About anything. Unless they are clients of the firm. So I can't help you with your divorce, write your will, or review your prenuptial. Sorry. But I can refer you to someone who can. I know. It's not the same thing.
Later we attended more computer training. We tried to access the firm's version of Instant Messenger, but alas we have been deactivated, so we were not able to. We were able to access the firm's legal files and figure out how to request case files. We also viewed a Welcome message from the firm's Managing Partner, which was short and to-the-point (he scores big points for brevity!). And we filled out some paperwork, most of which I was unsure of and took home (like my California withholding form suggests that I withhold seven exemptions-- I must have done it wrong, because I always withhold zero and still end up owing something at the end of each year!). Finally, we were sent off with our keycards and parking passes.
The most important decision I'll likely have to make in the next week is which gym to join. I'm already a member of 24 Hour Fitness, but I can't use the Sport clubs. The firm was offering a deal for something like $24/month with no sign-up fees for all clubs. There's one near the downtown office, but it's about 6 blocks away. Across the street from the firm is the Y, which was supposedly renovated in the winter of 2006. It gets mixed reviews, but it's only $38 for membership and a whole lot more convenient. Plus it has a towel service. For $77/month, my whole family can join and we can go to any YMCA, including the one closer to our home. This is tempting for obvious reasons. Finally is Pure Fitness, which is in the building. It's $59/month, but it has clean facilities, classes and exercise equipment outside (the down side of that being that people in higher-up floors can look out their windows and see you exercising), and an amazing locker room with towel service. Plus every treadmill has a personal DVD player (the ones at the Y do have individual TV screens, or so I hear). But the cardio room is cramped and a little musty. So do I go for the least expensive, least convenient option, or the most expensive and most convenient one? I really don't know. For now, I'm doing nothing. I'm going to try running at night or in the morning at home, like I have been, and see how that goes. But as winter fast approaches, I know that will get harder and harder to motivate myself to do.
Today's trainings were in one of our San Diego offices, but my personal office will be downtown, and tomorrow I get to find out exactly where my personal office space will be. There's some down-time in between training sessions tomorrow, so I'm hopeful I'll be able to hit up one of the senior associates or partners for some good old-fashioned work. I know, I know. There's plenty of time for work-- but geez, I'd like to not fall behind in billables my very first week. Plus tomorrow evening is a big wine and cheese shindig for the Lawyer's Club, which I'll be attending. I'm not a great schmoozer, so these social events with the larger legal community are hard for me to feel excited about. . .
Anyway, that's how things went. I was a little homesick my friends at my old job. I wonder what they did today. I bet they sat in a whole heck of a lot of meetings-- not unlike me, actually. But at least they had each other. Which isn't to say I don't have anybody. The other first year associates are actually fun people. But, you know, change is, well . . . different.
Of course, I didn't do any of that today. Today was a luxuriously slow-start to what I hope will be a busy career. Today we attended and participated in computer training. Which consisted of reviewing how to access, edit, and send documents which are all housed in a central computer. We ate lunch and listened to the firm's risk management presentation, which was a reminder of our professional responsibilities. Aside from not being able to call myself a lawyer yet, I am also forbidden from giving any legal advice to friends or family. Ever. About anything. Unless they are clients of the firm. So I can't help you with your divorce, write your will, or review your prenuptial. Sorry. But I can refer you to someone who can. I know. It's not the same thing.
Later we attended more computer training. We tried to access the firm's version of Instant Messenger, but alas we have been deactivated, so we were not able to. We were able to access the firm's legal files and figure out how to request case files. We also viewed a Welcome message from the firm's Managing Partner, which was short and to-the-point (he scores big points for brevity!). And we filled out some paperwork, most of which I was unsure of and took home (like my California withholding form suggests that I withhold seven exemptions-- I must have done it wrong, because I always withhold zero and still end up owing something at the end of each year!). Finally, we were sent off with our keycards and parking passes.
The most important decision I'll likely have to make in the next week is which gym to join. I'm already a member of 24 Hour Fitness, but I can't use the Sport clubs. The firm was offering a deal for something like $24/month with no sign-up fees for all clubs. There's one near the downtown office, but it's about 6 blocks away. Across the street from the firm is the Y, which was supposedly renovated in the winter of 2006. It gets mixed reviews, but it's only $38 for membership and a whole lot more convenient. Plus it has a towel service. For $77/month, my whole family can join and we can go to any YMCA, including the one closer to our home. This is tempting for obvious reasons. Finally is Pure Fitness, which is in the building. It's $59/month, but it has clean facilities, classes and exercise equipment outside (the down side of that being that people in higher-up floors can look out their windows and see you exercising), and an amazing locker room with towel service. Plus every treadmill has a personal DVD player (the ones at the Y do have individual TV screens, or so I hear). But the cardio room is cramped and a little musty. So do I go for the least expensive, least convenient option, or the most expensive and most convenient one? I really don't know. For now, I'm doing nothing. I'm going to try running at night or in the morning at home, like I have been, and see how that goes. But as winter fast approaches, I know that will get harder and harder to motivate myself to do.
Today's trainings were in one of our San Diego offices, but my personal office will be downtown, and tomorrow I get to find out exactly where my personal office space will be. There's some down-time in between training sessions tomorrow, so I'm hopeful I'll be able to hit up one of the senior associates or partners for some good old-fashioned work. I know, I know. There's plenty of time for work-- but geez, I'd like to not fall behind in billables my very first week. Plus tomorrow evening is a big wine and cheese shindig for the Lawyer's Club, which I'll be attending. I'm not a great schmoozer, so these social events with the larger legal community are hard for me to feel excited about. . .
Anyway, that's how things went. I was a little homesick my friends at my old job. I wonder what they did today. I bet they sat in a whole heck of a lot of meetings-- not unlike me, actually. But at least they had each other. Which isn't to say I don't have anybody. The other first year associates are actually fun people. But, you know, change is, well . . . different.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
A Little of Everything in a Whole Lotta Words
I have taken a lot of pictures lately. And Casey has, too. Some quite artistic. But I won't be sharing any in this post because I'm afraid to download them to this computer. I've actually used up all the space on the C drive. I've never had that happen before. I didn't even know it was possible. But apparently it is, and I've done it. So this week Jason is helping me transfer everything over to a better computer with more capacity, and then I'll be able to add some photos.
The Bus
Casey started riding the bus. He takes it two mornings a week from the elementary school where he has speech therapy to the preschool he attends. He loves it. They walk him from his class out to the waiting bus, strap him into his seat belt, and then deliver him to his preschool teachers. Jason followed him the first day and took pictures, so I can't wait to upload them when I have more computer memory. I'm just happy he's so happy about taking the bus.
Marcie's Sleeping
I have written about Marcie's sleep issues more times than I care to count. Maybe even as often as I was writing about her bowel movements back during Poop Watch 2006. And the good news is that we appear to have trained her.
I wrote before that the crying was whittling down. Well as of around the 24th (maybe even before that, actually), there were no more tears at bedtime. She puts herself right to sleep. When she asks me to lay down with her, I tell her no very gently and remind her that I love her. She rolls over, sucks on her blanket, and puts herself to sleep. Every once in a while, she does still wake up in the middle of the night crying. Sometimes she wants me. Sometimes she wants Jason. Usually we just need to rub her back and let her know we're still there. We tell her to put herself back to sleep, and she does. Last night I heard her cry once, and then it stopped immediately. So she's definitely getting the routine.
I'm sure it helps some that she's so busy at school all day and so tired by the time we get home. I know I'm in a better mood. I can't believe I didn't suck it up and sleep train her sooner! I mean a girl could get used to sleeping more than 3 or 4 continuous hours of sleep a night!
Marcie and her Preschool
I continue to be impressed with Marcie's preschool teachers. She loved going the first couple days, but then the honeymoon ended. The first morning she told me, "No school," I tried to get her to tell me why (yup, that's me, trying to have a rational conversation with a 22-month-old). She didn't like my approach and went to Jason. He reminded her of all the fun things she gets to do at school, and she stopped fussing.
For a few days, she whined and cried as we pulled into the school parking lot. One morning she cried so hard, I'm sure I made it worse by sitting with her on the playground until she calmed down. When I finally left, she was really unhappy. But her teacher told me she stopped crying less than five minutes later and didn't complain the rest of the day.
I know she's still adjusting. It's been less than two weeks, and they say it takes 4-6 weeks for a two-year-old to adjust to being away from home, regardless of the number of days each week they attend. But she is definitely learning new things. And Casey's preschool teachers take him to visit her some days during lunch or play time. He stops by and gives her a hug and a kiss and says hi. And they play together in the afternoons. So that's all good.
She sure does come home dirty, though. One day I made the mistake of just putting a barrette in her hair, no rubber bands. She wore a white shirt, khaki skirt, and white tights. When I arrived to pick her up at the end of the day, she had dirt smudges and a little bit of juice stained around her mouth. She'd spilled juice and I-don't-know-what-else on the once-white shirt; the tights were no longer a white, but a shade of beige from the sandbox I presume; and the backside of her skirt looked like she'd been rolling around on the ground (and she probably had). Plus, her bangs were hanging down, obscuring the top half of her eyes. She looked like one of those children they feature in the ads where they want you to sponsor a child in a developing country by giving food money each month-- except Marcie, of course, doesn't look like she needs to eat. I wish I'd had my camera that day! Suffice it to say she is now in rubber bands always, and we're moving away from white clothes (what was I thinking?!? Casey hated getting even the littlest bit dirty at Marcie's age, so I guess I just thought all kids were like that. . . what a dummy).
Swimming
Casey's entering his sixth week of swimming lessons, and he's been doing-- well, swimmingly. He's mastered any fear of dunking his face. He knows how to make giant scoops with his arms, and he even tries kicking simultaneously. He does it for as long as he can hold his breath, then he stands up, waves to me, and does it again. He's also been working on his elementary back stroke, which cracks me up because I can hear him doing the motions. They've taught the kids that they should make arms like a chicken, then an airplane, then shoot their harms down against their sides like a rocket. So I can hear Casey going "Bock! Bock! Zoooooom! Kerpow!" over and over again as he makes the motions. He can't quite do anything on his own yet, but he's made definite improvements!
Music
Marcie started music class this week. As part of the class, we get a book and a CD of the music. Which the kids both love. If Casey's Sports of all Sorts (soccer, baseball, and basketball) didn't conflict, I'd enroll him, too! Their favorite song is about a duck. But earlier today I heard Casey singing Mary Had a Little Lamb. Except instead of "little lamb" he was singing, "Mary had a little man, little man, little man . . . and everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went; everywhere that Mary went, the man was sure to go." It brings new meaning to the word stalker. Anyway, I have some great pictures a friend took of Marcie in music class, but alas, they will have to wait until I can download on the new computer.
The Car
I did get my car back. The repair place did a great job. But part of the bumper appears to be coming loose, so we'll be taking it back in this week. I'm hopeful it's a one-day fixer so that we don't have to worry about renting again. But really, who knows.
Oddly, my one of my sisters-in-law had her car broken into the week before last and another sister--in-law was hit by a crazy driver who decided to make a left turn right into the front of her beautiful car. She's uninjured but the car may be totalled. We all have the same insurance company, so they must think the S. family is quite a risk to have on the books these days!
The New Job
And last is that I start my new job tomorrow. I don't really know what to expect. I mean, I interned there last summer, so I kind of know what to expect. But I'm quite certain that it'll be different from the summer experience, too. Check in tomorrow, and I'll try to remember to post how things went. (I've been scattered in posting because I finally went to the doctor and it turns out that the pain in my neck is not psychosomatic; I have had a month-long-muscle spasm. I was prescribed a muscle relaxant, but I can't stay awake on the stuff, so I take it when I put the kids to bed, and then I'm out like a light within the hour. . .)
The Bus
Casey started riding the bus. He takes it two mornings a week from the elementary school where he has speech therapy to the preschool he attends. He loves it. They walk him from his class out to the waiting bus, strap him into his seat belt, and then deliver him to his preschool teachers. Jason followed him the first day and took pictures, so I can't wait to upload them when I have more computer memory. I'm just happy he's so happy about taking the bus.
Marcie's Sleeping
I have written about Marcie's sleep issues more times than I care to count. Maybe even as often as I was writing about her bowel movements back during Poop Watch 2006. And the good news is that we appear to have trained her.
I wrote before that the crying was whittling down. Well as of around the 24th (maybe even before that, actually), there were no more tears at bedtime. She puts herself right to sleep. When she asks me to lay down with her, I tell her no very gently and remind her that I love her. She rolls over, sucks on her blanket, and puts herself to sleep. Every once in a while, she does still wake up in the middle of the night crying. Sometimes she wants me. Sometimes she wants Jason. Usually we just need to rub her back and let her know we're still there. We tell her to put herself back to sleep, and she does. Last night I heard her cry once, and then it stopped immediately. So she's definitely getting the routine.
I'm sure it helps some that she's so busy at school all day and so tired by the time we get home. I know I'm in a better mood. I can't believe I didn't suck it up and sleep train her sooner! I mean a girl could get used to sleeping more than 3 or 4 continuous hours of sleep a night!
Marcie and her Preschool
I continue to be impressed with Marcie's preschool teachers. She loved going the first couple days, but then the honeymoon ended. The first morning she told me, "No school," I tried to get her to tell me why (yup, that's me, trying to have a rational conversation with a 22-month-old). She didn't like my approach and went to Jason. He reminded her of all the fun things she gets to do at school, and she stopped fussing.
For a few days, she whined and cried as we pulled into the school parking lot. One morning she cried so hard, I'm sure I made it worse by sitting with her on the playground until she calmed down. When I finally left, she was really unhappy. But her teacher told me she stopped crying less than five minutes later and didn't complain the rest of the day.
I know she's still adjusting. It's been less than two weeks, and they say it takes 4-6 weeks for a two-year-old to adjust to being away from home, regardless of the number of days each week they attend. But she is definitely learning new things. And Casey's preschool teachers take him to visit her some days during lunch or play time. He stops by and gives her a hug and a kiss and says hi. And they play together in the afternoons. So that's all good.
She sure does come home dirty, though. One day I made the mistake of just putting a barrette in her hair, no rubber bands. She wore a white shirt, khaki skirt, and white tights. When I arrived to pick her up at the end of the day, she had dirt smudges and a little bit of juice stained around her mouth. She'd spilled juice and I-don't-know-what-else on the once-white shirt; the tights were no longer a white, but a shade of beige from the sandbox I presume; and the backside of her skirt looked like she'd been rolling around on the ground (and she probably had). Plus, her bangs were hanging down, obscuring the top half of her eyes. She looked like one of those children they feature in the ads where they want you to sponsor a child in a developing country by giving food money each month-- except Marcie, of course, doesn't look like she needs to eat. I wish I'd had my camera that day! Suffice it to say she is now in rubber bands always, and we're moving away from white clothes (what was I thinking?!? Casey hated getting even the littlest bit dirty at Marcie's age, so I guess I just thought all kids were like that. . . what a dummy).
Swimming
Casey's entering his sixth week of swimming lessons, and he's been doing-- well, swimmingly. He's mastered any fear of dunking his face. He knows how to make giant scoops with his arms, and he even tries kicking simultaneously. He does it for as long as he can hold his breath, then he stands up, waves to me, and does it again. He's also been working on his elementary back stroke, which cracks me up because I can hear him doing the motions. They've taught the kids that they should make arms like a chicken, then an airplane, then shoot their harms down against their sides like a rocket. So I can hear Casey going "Bock! Bock! Zoooooom! Kerpow!" over and over again as he makes the motions. He can't quite do anything on his own yet, but he's made definite improvements!
Music
Marcie started music class this week. As part of the class, we get a book and a CD of the music. Which the kids both love. If Casey's Sports of all Sorts (soccer, baseball, and basketball) didn't conflict, I'd enroll him, too! Their favorite song is about a duck. But earlier today I heard Casey singing Mary Had a Little Lamb. Except instead of "little lamb" he was singing, "Mary had a little man, little man, little man . . . and everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went; everywhere that Mary went, the man was sure to go." It brings new meaning to the word stalker. Anyway, I have some great pictures a friend took of Marcie in music class, but alas, they will have to wait until I can download on the new computer.
The Car
I did get my car back. The repair place did a great job. But part of the bumper appears to be coming loose, so we'll be taking it back in this week. I'm hopeful it's a one-day fixer so that we don't have to worry about renting again. But really, who knows.
Oddly, my one of my sisters-in-law had her car broken into the week before last and another sister--in-law was hit by a crazy driver who decided to make a left turn right into the front of her beautiful car. She's uninjured but the car may be totalled. We all have the same insurance company, so they must think the S. family is quite a risk to have on the books these days!
The New Job
And last is that I start my new job tomorrow. I don't really know what to expect. I mean, I interned there last summer, so I kind of know what to expect. But I'm quite certain that it'll be different from the summer experience, too. Check in tomorrow, and I'll try to remember to post how things went. (I've been scattered in posting because I finally went to the doctor and it turns out that the pain in my neck is not psychosomatic; I have had a month-long-muscle spasm. I was prescribed a muscle relaxant, but I can't stay awake on the stuff, so I take it when I put the kids to bed, and then I'm out like a light within the hour. . .)
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Charmed Life
Last weekend I went away with a friend of mine to Big Bear to scrapbook Casey's Story and Marcie's Story. The books are an explanation of each my children's beginnings-- not your typical scrapbook. They tell how each of them came to become part of our family, and they share a little bit about the world from whence they came. They're written for Casey and Marcie to understand now, as a toddler and a preschooler. The scrapbooking weekend is a topic for another post in itself, but the road trip portion of it was interesting, and it's what motivates me to write this entry.
I was explaining to my friend (who rode with me) that sometimes I look around and see how other people lead what appear to me to be charmed lives. It's not that I'm ungrateful for the life I lead. I'm actually very happy with my life. But it's work, too. For example, I said, we got a $500 refund check from Marcie's adoption in the mail the same week that I was in the car accident and needed to pay the $500 deductible. I mean, it could be worse-- at least we had the money.
She inquired as to how I was defining charmed life. And that caused me great pause. Because I was thinking that people who live charmed lives are people to whom life seems to happen. They just always seem to be in the right place at the right time. Things work out for them. They never really seem to struggle. And my friend pointed out that my $500 check example could be seen as pretty charmed, then, couldn't it? And, of course, she's right.
So I decided to look up the definition of a charmed life. What I found was that Answers.com defines it as "a life that seems to have been protected by a charm or spell." And Dictionary.net explains it's a life that is protected by or invulnerable because of "spells, charms, or supernatural influences."
Now, I certainly do not believe any spell or charm or supernatural influence is keeping me or my family safe. But I suppose that leading a charmed life is as much about perspective as it is about anything. And perhaps I had the wrong perspective.
I mean, the $500 check is one example. But I can think of plenty of others, too. For instance, if we hadn't struggled with fertility issues, Casey probably wouldn't be our son. That's not to say we wouldn't have adopted children; I think we would have considered it eventually, regardless. But at that point in our lives, at the exact time that Casey was born, we wouldn't have been adopting. I wouldn't have left teaching, probably. I probably wouldn't have gone to law school, or run the Disneyworld marathon. I wouldn't have met some people whom I now consider to be my closest friends. Sure, I would have done other stuff, and I would have made other friends. But the point is that what felt like this horrible thing happening to me was such blessing in so many other ways.
Another example is the car accident. It could have been so much worse. I mean, like I wrote about before, the kids could have been with me. Or I could have totalled the car. Or someone could have really been hurt. This really hit home for me early this week when we learned that one of Casey's classmates lost his 36-year-old mother in a car accident. I mean, there I was talking to her on the playground last week. And this week she's gone. And her two-year-old probably will not have any actual memories of her mother. And her four-year-old's memories will be limited at best. No warning. No good-byes. Just there in the morning when the kids woke up and gone that evening when they were tucked in bed. And here I am irritated because I had to drive a crappy rental car for a month. I mean, if you're going to be in a car accident, one where there are no substantial injuries and no children present is the kind of accident to be involved in. So my point is that leading a charmed life isn't about never having struggles-- it's about how you face those challenges and how you choose to handle them.
So here I sit. My children tucked quietly in bed for the night. And I am ever-so-grateful for the life I lead. I work hard at it. But it doesn't make it any less charmed . . .
I was explaining to my friend (who rode with me) that sometimes I look around and see how other people lead what appear to me to be charmed lives. It's not that I'm ungrateful for the life I lead. I'm actually very happy with my life. But it's work, too. For example, I said, we got a $500 refund check from Marcie's adoption in the mail the same week that I was in the car accident and needed to pay the $500 deductible. I mean, it could be worse-- at least we had the money.
She inquired as to how I was defining charmed life. And that caused me great pause. Because I was thinking that people who live charmed lives are people to whom life seems to happen. They just always seem to be in the right place at the right time. Things work out for them. They never really seem to struggle. And my friend pointed out that my $500 check example could be seen as pretty charmed, then, couldn't it? And, of course, she's right.
So I decided to look up the definition of a charmed life. What I found was that Answers.com defines it as "a life that seems to have been protected by a charm or spell." And Dictionary.net explains it's a life that is protected by or invulnerable because of "spells, charms, or supernatural influences."
Now, I certainly do not believe any spell or charm or supernatural influence is keeping me or my family safe. But I suppose that leading a charmed life is as much about perspective as it is about anything. And perhaps I had the wrong perspective.
I mean, the $500 check is one example. But I can think of plenty of others, too. For instance, if we hadn't struggled with fertility issues, Casey probably wouldn't be our son. That's not to say we wouldn't have adopted children; I think we would have considered it eventually, regardless. But at that point in our lives, at the exact time that Casey was born, we wouldn't have been adopting. I wouldn't have left teaching, probably. I probably wouldn't have gone to law school, or run the Disneyworld marathon. I wouldn't have met some people whom I now consider to be my closest friends. Sure, I would have done other stuff, and I would have made other friends. But the point is that what felt like this horrible thing happening to me was such blessing in so many other ways.
Another example is the car accident. It could have been so much worse. I mean, like I wrote about before, the kids could have been with me. Or I could have totalled the car. Or someone could have really been hurt. This really hit home for me early this week when we learned that one of Casey's classmates lost his 36-year-old mother in a car accident. I mean, there I was talking to her on the playground last week. And this week she's gone. And her two-year-old probably will not have any actual memories of her mother. And her four-year-old's memories will be limited at best. No warning. No good-byes. Just there in the morning when the kids woke up and gone that evening when they were tucked in bed. And here I am irritated because I had to drive a crappy rental car for a month. I mean, if you're going to be in a car accident, one where there are no substantial injuries and no children present is the kind of accident to be involved in. So my point is that leading a charmed life isn't about never having struggles-- it's about how you face those challenges and how you choose to handle them.
So here I sit. My children tucked quietly in bed for the night. And I am ever-so-grateful for the life I lead. I work hard at it. But it doesn't make it any less charmed . . .
Monday, September 24, 2007
B.S. # 3 Now Entering Critical Review
I just got an e-mail from CCAI (our adoption agency):
We'll keep you posted!
Congratulations! Your dossier has arrived at our office!So that means we have moved on to the (hopefully) final stages of our dossier review process before mailing everything to China! Critical Review, where our paperwork is reviewed multiple times, translated, and bound, usually takes 9-11 days.
We'll keep you posted!
Eat at Chilis Restaurant Today- Sept. 24th!
I meant to post this last week and lost track of time.
Today, September 24, 2007, Chili's Restaurants are donating all their profits to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. This is a great cause-- one of my favorites. And while Chili's isn't donating all money they take in, I'm still pretty impressed that they are donating all their profits. Most places will only agree to donate a percentage-- so 100% of the profits is a terrific contribution.
If you're wondering what St. Jude's is about, they focus on research and treatment of childhood cancer. Once patients are accepted for treatment at St. Jude's, the cost of the treatment is fully covered, so no one is ever turned away for having no insurance or because their insurance won't cover it. Not only are they an amazing place for treating children, but their research has made more survival possible than ever. When St. Jude's opened its doors in 1962, the survival rate for ALL (Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, cancer of the blood) was around 4%. Today it's 94%. Their research has contributed to improved 5-year survival rates in a variety of types of cancer.
Of course you can just donate money directly to St. Jude's. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't help grow the contribution from Chili's either! After all, everyone's gotta eat. I know our office is ordering in from Chili's today-- so if you work someplace where eating from a restaurant is possible, grab some co-workers and head over to a participating Chili's near you. And if you don't work in a place that allows you to make it to a Chili's on your lunch hour, I hope you'll consider taking your family there for dinner!
Happy eating!
Today, September 24, 2007, Chili's Restaurants are donating all their profits to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. This is a great cause-- one of my favorites. And while Chili's isn't donating all money they take in, I'm still pretty impressed that they are donating all their profits. Most places will only agree to donate a percentage-- so 100% of the profits is a terrific contribution.
If you're wondering what St. Jude's is about, they focus on research and treatment of childhood cancer. Once patients are accepted for treatment at St. Jude's, the cost of the treatment is fully covered, so no one is ever turned away for having no insurance or because their insurance won't cover it. Not only are they an amazing place for treating children, but their research has made more survival possible than ever. When St. Jude's opened its doors in 1962, the survival rate for ALL (Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, cancer of the blood) was around 4%. Today it's 94%. Their research has contributed to improved 5-year survival rates in a variety of types of cancer.
Of course you can just donate money directly to St. Jude's. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't help grow the contribution from Chili's either! After all, everyone's gotta eat. I know our office is ordering in from Chili's today-- so if you work someplace where eating from a restaurant is possible, grab some co-workers and head over to a participating Chili's near you. And if you don't work in a place that allows you to make it to a Chili's on your lunch hour, I hope you'll consider taking your family there for dinner!
Happy eating!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
One Step Closer to BS #3
Our dossier, along with our final agency payment, our photos, and a photocopy of all the documentation, is going in the mail tomorrow. It's set to arrive at our agency Monday morning.
I remember feeling no anxiety about this stage of it all last time. For some reason, though, this time I feel some pangs of anxiety. Last time, the wait was only 6 months long. So if something needed to be fixed or redone, the one- or two-week delay was no big deal. This time, four days could mean the difference between a 24 month wait and a 25 month wait. So mistakes are a very big deal.
Theoretically, our dossier should be reviewed and off to China by the beginning of the second week in October. That is, of course, barring any mistakes or problems with our paperwork. The date it's mailed is called our DTC (Date To China). Then we'll hear from China, who will verify they received our documentation, with a LID (Log In Date). That date is our official place in line. We aren't out of the woods, though. A year or so from now (maybe much longer, maybe much shorter), the Review Room in China will comb through our documentation to make sure everything looks good and they don't have any questions.
Still, once we have our LID, we'll officially be paper pregnant, and our insanely long wait will finally begin. I know our child will be well worth wait. But I also know I'm incredibly impatient about these things, and the wait will be hard.
One step at a time, though. So let's just get our paperwork off to China first, shall we?
I remember feeling no anxiety about this stage of it all last time. For some reason, though, this time I feel some pangs of anxiety. Last time, the wait was only 6 months long. So if something needed to be fixed or redone, the one- or two-week delay was no big deal. This time, four days could mean the difference between a 24 month wait and a 25 month wait. So mistakes are a very big deal.
Theoretically, our dossier should be reviewed and off to China by the beginning of the second week in October. That is, of course, barring any mistakes or problems with our paperwork. The date it's mailed is called our DTC (Date To China). Then we'll hear from China, who will verify they received our documentation, with a LID (Log In Date). That date is our official place in line. We aren't out of the woods, though. A year or so from now (maybe much longer, maybe much shorter), the Review Room in China will comb through our documentation to make sure everything looks good and they don't have any questions.
Still, once we have our LID, we'll officially be paper pregnant, and our insanely long wait will finally begin. I know our child will be well worth wait. But I also know I'm incredibly impatient about these things, and the wait will be hard.
One step at a time, though. So let's just get our paperwork off to China first, shall we?
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Disneyland
In a treat to myself more than anything, back in April I planned a Disneyland trip. It was really just a mental plan because we didn't have the time off to go. Until now.
As a general rule, we decided three is appropriate age to bring your child to Disneyland for the first time. Sure, they're free before their third birthday. But really, there's not much for them to enjoy. And they definitely aren't going to remember or appreciate it. Plus, they tend to be freaked out by all the Disney characters, which must look a bit like giant bobble-heads to preschoolers. In any case, we dutifully waited until Casey's third birthday to go. That was January of 2006.
And now that Casey's older, we thought he'd appreciate it even more. Sure, we could have left Marcie behind to hold steadfast to our three-year-old rule. But how do you explain that to your almost-two-year-old? We didn't even try. We just decided to go as a family. And we dragged along some family friends, too.
Lucas, who you will see featured in some photos below, is 6 months older than Marcie-- two and a half years younger than Casey. But the boys get along famously. So off we went to Disneyland on a one-day park hopper.
We promised Casey he could meet Princess Ariel (known in our home as the Little Mermaid) and hug her. So we made reservations at the over-priced Ariel's Grotto in California Adventure. And even though the cost of a three course meal might make you choke, it was like a ride unto itself. Not only did Casey get to hug Ariel and take pictures with her, but we were greeted by and received autographs from Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Belle (from Beauty and the Beast), and Cinderella. The boys were giddy with joy. Plus, because princesses are people and not costumed with giant heads, they weren't intimidating in the least.
Even though we only rode maybe 6 rides (and not because there were long lines-- there weren't lines for anything but the new Nemo ride, which we skipped because we didn't want to waste 2 hours standing in it), it was worth the money. The thing about Disneyland, particularly through a small child's eyes, is that it really is one of the most Magical Places on Earth.
(Click the collage to see larger version)
As a general rule, we decided three is appropriate age to bring your child to Disneyland for the first time. Sure, they're free before their third birthday. But really, there's not much for them to enjoy. And they definitely aren't going to remember or appreciate it. Plus, they tend to be freaked out by all the Disney characters, which must look a bit like giant bobble-heads to preschoolers. In any case, we dutifully waited until Casey's third birthday to go. That was January of 2006.
And now that Casey's older, we thought he'd appreciate it even more. Sure, we could have left Marcie behind to hold steadfast to our three-year-old rule. But how do you explain that to your almost-two-year-old? We didn't even try. We just decided to go as a family. And we dragged along some family friends, too.
Lucas, who you will see featured in some photos below, is 6 months older than Marcie-- two and a half years younger than Casey. But the boys get along famously. So off we went to Disneyland on a one-day park hopper.
We promised Casey he could meet Princess Ariel (known in our home as the Little Mermaid) and hug her. So we made reservations at the over-priced Ariel's Grotto in California Adventure. And even though the cost of a three course meal might make you choke, it was like a ride unto itself. Not only did Casey get to hug Ariel and take pictures with her, but we were greeted by and received autographs from Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Belle (from Beauty and the Beast), and Cinderella. The boys were giddy with joy. Plus, because princesses are people and not costumed with giant heads, they weren't intimidating in the least.
Even though we only rode maybe 6 rides (and not because there were long lines-- there weren't lines for anything but the new Nemo ride, which we skipped because we didn't want to waste 2 hours standing in it), it was worth the money. The thing about Disneyland, particularly through a small child's eyes, is that it really is one of the most Magical Places on Earth.
(Click the collage to see larger version)
Marcie's Preschool Extravaganza
Marcie started preschool today. In many ways, I think the first day of school is much harder on us parents than on our kids.
Marcie has been asking to go to "schoo" for at least a couple weeks now. She is usually with us or Grandma S. when one of us drops off Casey at school. She likes to visit Casey’s classroom and say hello to the class turtle. She likes to follow after Casey and give him a kiss good-bye. She likes to give Casey’s teacher a hug. She feels safe and comfortable at the school.
Last week, in preparation for her transition to preschool, we went to visit. Casey and I dropped off his lunch and signed in. Then Casey led Marcie by the hand all over the big kids’ playground, introducing Marcie to his friends and teachers. He stopped off at every group of children and said, “This is my baby sister, Marcie. She is coming to _____ School now.” He walked us over to the little kids’ playground, where he stood at the gate and watched her. When one of his best friends Kaitlyn came to say hello, he told her he was busy with his baby sister. And once he saw that she was going to be okay, he called to Marcie to come give him kisses, and she did so through the gate.
Marcie hung out on the playground for almost an hour. Her new teacher introduced her to some new friends. She discovered the slide, which entertained her for quite a while. She poured sand over the top of her head. She climbed in the little police car and onto the tricycle and pedaled herself around.
And when it was time to start class, she lined up just like the other children and followed them into the room. She wandered over to the carpeted area and sang along during the morning song. When they held up her name card, she eagerly jumped up to take it and put it up on the chart with the other names.
During arts and crafts, she dutifully painted glue onto the page with the paint brush, then washed her hands thoroughly at the sink. She sang and danced and shook a maraca during music time, and she sat on the toilet and giggled during potty time.
When her teacher scooped out cheese sauce and pretzel sticks, she said, “please” and “thank you.” And she guzzled down grape juice like it was candy (or at least the part of the cup that she didn’t dribble all down the front of her shirt).
After the time for our visit came to an end, she gave each teacher a high five and a hug, and she waved good bye to her friends, calling out “good bye” and “see you later.”
At the end of the morning, I was so proud of my big girl. She had such a good time playing with the other children and loved being part of the group. And when I asked if she wanted to go back to school, she nodded her head yes vigorously.
But that was just a classroom visit. Today was her first day of school. Her first full day of school. And she did fantastically well. She cried a little at nap time. Which, really, isn't that different from home! But then she took a nap! She ate her lunch. She played. And when I went to pick her up, she and Casey came running, screaming at me: "MOMMY! MOMMY!" and ran directly into my arms. Scooping up my kids to bear hug them simultaneously as they chant my name in sheer joy-- that's one of my all-time favorite feelings.
Anyway, here's Marcie visiting school (click the collage to see a larger version and view the photos more clearly):
Marcie has been asking to go to "schoo" for at least a couple weeks now. She is usually with us or Grandma S. when one of us drops off Casey at school. She likes to visit Casey’s classroom and say hello to the class turtle. She likes to follow after Casey and give him a kiss good-bye. She likes to give Casey’s teacher a hug. She feels safe and comfortable at the school.
Last week, in preparation for her transition to preschool, we went to visit. Casey and I dropped off his lunch and signed in. Then Casey led Marcie by the hand all over the big kids’ playground, introducing Marcie to his friends and teachers. He stopped off at every group of children and said, “This is my baby sister, Marcie. She is coming to _____ School now.” He walked us over to the little kids’ playground, where he stood at the gate and watched her. When one of his best friends Kaitlyn came to say hello, he told her he was busy with his baby sister. And once he saw that she was going to be okay, he called to Marcie to come give him kisses, and she did so through the gate.
Marcie hung out on the playground for almost an hour. Her new teacher introduced her to some new friends. She discovered the slide, which entertained her for quite a while. She poured sand over the top of her head. She climbed in the little police car and onto the tricycle and pedaled herself around.
And when it was time to start class, she lined up just like the other children and followed them into the room. She wandered over to the carpeted area and sang along during the morning song. When they held up her name card, she eagerly jumped up to take it and put it up on the chart with the other names.
During arts and crafts, she dutifully painted glue onto the page with the paint brush, then washed her hands thoroughly at the sink. She sang and danced and shook a maraca during music time, and she sat on the toilet and giggled during potty time.
When her teacher scooped out cheese sauce and pretzel sticks, she said, “please” and “thank you.” And she guzzled down grape juice like it was candy (or at least the part of the cup that she didn’t dribble all down the front of her shirt).
After the time for our visit came to an end, she gave each teacher a high five and a hug, and she waved good bye to her friends, calling out “good bye” and “see you later.”
At the end of the morning, I was so proud of my big girl. She had such a good time playing with the other children and loved being part of the group. And when I asked if she wanted to go back to school, she nodded her head yes vigorously.
But that was just a classroom visit. Today was her first day of school. Her first full day of school. And she did fantastically well. She cried a little at nap time. Which, really, isn't that different from home! But then she took a nap! She ate her lunch. She played. And when I went to pick her up, she and Casey came running, screaming at me: "MOMMY! MOMMY!" and ran directly into my arms. Scooping up my kids to bear hug them simultaneously as they chant my name in sheer joy-- that's one of my all-time favorite feelings.
Anyway, here's Marcie visiting school (click the collage to see a larger version and view the photos more clearly):
Monday, September 17, 2007
Wow! Already?
In the adoption world-- both domestic and international, from my experience-- there is a lot of hurrying up and waiting. You pay the rush fees because, with China referring only a handful of days' worth of matches each month, a week-- or even a day-- can make a big difference.
I wrote last week that we over-nighted everything to Red Tape Solution to courier our dossier documents through the Los Angeles Consulate. We know she received our stuff on Friday morning before 10am, because we are signed up for handy-dandy Fed Ex notifications when our stuff arrives. We paid the extra charges to have our paperwork "rushed," which means returned the next business day. We were hoping that meant we'd see our documents this Thursday or Friday. But, thanks to that same hand-dandy Fed Ex notification system, we know that something is in the mail to us from Red Tape Solution, and it's due to arrive before 10am tomorrow.
Our guess? Our dossier documents have all been authenticated!
That puts the ball back in our court. We'd planned to get our passport photos and pick out our family photos this week-- figuring whatever additional pictures we needed to take, we'd be able to do so all week long. But if our documents will be here tomorrow, well, we'd better hurry up to get it all ready to send to CCAI so we can wait for it to make its way through critical review and translation (then off it all goes to China)!
This is terrific news. And what great motivation to shuffle through all the photos we took today at Disneyland today to see if they meet any of our needs (Disneyland is a story for another post)!
I wrote last week that we over-nighted everything to Red Tape Solution to courier our dossier documents through the Los Angeles Consulate. We know she received our stuff on Friday morning before 10am, because we are signed up for handy-dandy Fed Ex notifications when our stuff arrives. We paid the extra charges to have our paperwork "rushed," which means returned the next business day. We were hoping that meant we'd see our documents this Thursday or Friday. But, thanks to that same hand-dandy Fed Ex notification system, we know that something is in the mail to us from Red Tape Solution, and it's due to arrive before 10am tomorrow.
Our guess? Our dossier documents have all been authenticated!
That puts the ball back in our court. We'd planned to get our passport photos and pick out our family photos this week-- figuring whatever additional pictures we needed to take, we'd be able to do so all week long. But if our documents will be here tomorrow, well, we'd better hurry up to get it all ready to send to CCAI so we can wait for it to make its way through critical review and translation (then off it all goes to China)!
This is terrific news. And what great motivation to shuffle through all the photos we took today at Disneyland today to see if they meet any of our needs (Disneyland is a story for another post)!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Turning Away a Boy
Today's Rumor Queen post discussed (again) an apparently new phenomenon with the China adoption process: people who have requested healthy children with no known medical conditions have recently been referred children with repaired medical conditions. So, if a child is born with an extra digit, and that extra digit has been removed, the child is no longer considered a child with special needs, and she may be referred to a family requesting a healthy child. Some families have opted to decline these referrals, and it appears that they received a new referral-- for a healthier child-- in the next batch.
Of course, I have an opinion about this, but that's not what I'm going to write about today. What caught my eye was this one line in Rumor Queen's post:
Here we have a situation in which a government has created a predominantly one-child-only rule (though if both parents are only children, they are permitted to have two children without paying a penalty for the second child). And that rule has led to the abandonment of thousands of girls for social and cultural reasons. The desire to have a boy is so strong in China, that people were, at one point, opting for sonograms to determine gender and then terminating the pregnancy if it was a girl. I remember reading back in 2005 that China was no longer permitting ultrasound technicians to reveal the gender of a child for that very reason.
So along come Americans, and people from other countries, too, who are interested in building their families through adoptions from China. And we all go into the process recognizing that there is an abundance of girls and thinking that we will probably be adding a girl to our families through this process. The thing is, though, that the one-child rule doesn't just apply to parents who have no children. It applies to everyone. So if a family has a boy or a girl who they decide to raise, and then discover they are pregnant again, it's quite plausible that child will end up in an orphanage regardless of the gender. That means there are boys in China's orphanages, not just girls.
And so it leaves me to wonder how we can on the one hand cluck our tongues in disapproval at the abandonment of girls, and more specifically at the cultural preference for one gender over another, only to later demonstrate the same preference. I just don't get it. It seems incredibly hypocritical; and more than that, it seems wrong.
I mean, say you were pregnant and really, really wanted a girl. And you discovered you were going to be having a boy, would you seriously decide to terminate the pregnancy? Place the child for adoption? I've never even heard of such a thing happening in the U.S. But, by analogy, isn't that what families who turn down a referral for a gender other than the one they requested are doing?
Yeah. I'm being judgmental. But boy or girl, all children need loving homes. And if you only have a heart for one gender or another, I can't help but question the motives. And yes, I realize some families opt to adopt from China because they have three boys at home and would like a little girl. But, you know what? Too bad. That's just the crap shoot you take, I say. I think it's wrong to decline a referral because of gender. And I don't think anything would convince me otherwise. Shame on those families. Shame on us for thinking it's okay to have that attitude with adoption when we would never condone it for biological children.
That said, of course I would much prefer those families decline the perfectly healthy boy to wait for a girl than adopt a child who they will never really love. But it's so sad that they don't have unconditional love to offer in the first place. . .
Of course, I have an opinion about this, but that's not what I'm going to write about today. What caught my eye was this one line in Rumor Queen's post:
What this sentence tells me is that there were families who requested girls and were referred boys who declined the referral. Now, it's true that I don't know the individual circumstances-- like perhaps it was that they requested a healthy girl and were matched with a boy with a repaired special need. But, taking the sentence at its face, I am . . . well . . . appalled.Also, the families who turned down boy referrals have been given a referral
for a girl.
Here we have a situation in which a government has created a predominantly one-child-only rule (though if both parents are only children, they are permitted to have two children without paying a penalty for the second child). And that rule has led to the abandonment of thousands of girls for social and cultural reasons. The desire to have a boy is so strong in China, that people were, at one point, opting for sonograms to determine gender and then terminating the pregnancy if it was a girl. I remember reading back in 2005 that China was no longer permitting ultrasound technicians to reveal the gender of a child for that very reason.
So along come Americans, and people from other countries, too, who are interested in building their families through adoptions from China. And we all go into the process recognizing that there is an abundance of girls and thinking that we will probably be adding a girl to our families through this process. The thing is, though, that the one-child rule doesn't just apply to parents who have no children. It applies to everyone. So if a family has a boy or a girl who they decide to raise, and then discover they are pregnant again, it's quite plausible that child will end up in an orphanage regardless of the gender. That means there are boys in China's orphanages, not just girls.
And so it leaves me to wonder how we can on the one hand cluck our tongues in disapproval at the abandonment of girls, and more specifically at the cultural preference for one gender over another, only to later demonstrate the same preference. I just don't get it. It seems incredibly hypocritical; and more than that, it seems wrong.
I mean, say you were pregnant and really, really wanted a girl. And you discovered you were going to be having a boy, would you seriously decide to terminate the pregnancy? Place the child for adoption? I've never even heard of such a thing happening in the U.S. But, by analogy, isn't that what families who turn down a referral for a gender other than the one they requested are doing?
Yeah. I'm being judgmental. But boy or girl, all children need loving homes. And if you only have a heart for one gender or another, I can't help but question the motives. And yes, I realize some families opt to adopt from China because they have three boys at home and would like a little girl. But, you know what? Too bad. That's just the crap shoot you take, I say. I think it's wrong to decline a referral because of gender. And I don't think anything would convince me otherwise. Shame on those families. Shame on us for thinking it's okay to have that attitude with adoption when we would never condone it for biological children.
That said, of course I would much prefer those families decline the perfectly healthy boy to wait for a girl than adopt a child who they will never really love. But it's so sad that they don't have unconditional love to offer in the first place. . .
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Dossier Compilation Continues
So it's 10:34pm, and I just walked in the door. I left home around 9:15pm to make photocopies, after spending around 45 minutes to an hour preparing paperwork for our final step-- authentication by the Chinese Consular General in Los Angeles.
Our agency, CCAI, now offers a dossier certification/authentication service. Basically, you send them all the paperwork once you've gathered it and they notarize it, get it certified by the County Clerk and the Secretary of State, then get it authenticated by the Chinese Consulate. I don't know if it includes "rush" or "walk-in" service (though I imagine it does just because of the volume of clients they have). It's $1200, and though they claimed they don't recoup any cost, I was skeptical. Well, I am a skeptic no more. When all is said and done, all the notarizing, certifying, and authenticating-- not to mention shipment costs-- will have cost us somewhere in the neighborhood of $1,000 anyway. And that means we saved around $200 doing it ourselves. You have to ask yourself if the time you spend collecting signatures is worth $200. I know, for me, it probably wasn't. Just the number of hours I spent-- around 4 or 5-- collecting the signatures and making copies probably wasn't worth $200 in the end. But, of course, how could I have known that? Plus, this allowed me to retain control over the process, something I would have had to let go of had I let CCAI take care of the documentation for me. Long story short, it's probably worth the $1200 in the end.
Oddly, although I now have sent all our documents off to a courier that specializes in getting documents authenticated, I feel more anxious instead of less worried. Last time, I mailed it all to the Consulate myself, and it took about a month to get it all back. This time, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it can be taken care of in a week by using Red Tape Solution (the courier). But the thought of turning over all that personal information to someone to walk it through the consulate makes me awfully nervous. Of course, that's what the big agencies do with it-- they send it to a courier, too. But still. It's birth certificates and passport photos and financial information and criminal clearances-- all the makings for stealing a person's identity. And now that I've thought that through a bit more, I have to stop writing about this because it makes me even more anxious. . .
Anyway, the FedEx package is scheduled for pick up at 4:30pm and guaranteed arrival in its destination (a mere hour and a half away by car, mind you) by 10:00am the next morning.
So please keep your fingers crossed and send your good vibes our way that the courier will get the package, deliver it to the Los Angeles P.R. China Consulate, get the stuff back authenticated, and return it to us without a hitch. And without borrowing our personal information . . .
Our agency, CCAI, now offers a dossier certification/authentication service. Basically, you send them all the paperwork once you've gathered it and they notarize it, get it certified by the County Clerk and the Secretary of State, then get it authenticated by the Chinese Consulate. I don't know if it includes "rush" or "walk-in" service (though I imagine it does just because of the volume of clients they have). It's $1200, and though they claimed they don't recoup any cost, I was skeptical. Well, I am a skeptic no more. When all is said and done, all the notarizing, certifying, and authenticating-- not to mention shipment costs-- will have cost us somewhere in the neighborhood of $1,000 anyway. And that means we saved around $200 doing it ourselves. You have to ask yourself if the time you spend collecting signatures is worth $200. I know, for me, it probably wasn't. Just the number of hours I spent-- around 4 or 5-- collecting the signatures and making copies probably wasn't worth $200 in the end. But, of course, how could I have known that? Plus, this allowed me to retain control over the process, something I would have had to let go of had I let CCAI take care of the documentation for me. Long story short, it's probably worth the $1200 in the end.
Oddly, although I now have sent all our documents off to a courier that specializes in getting documents authenticated, I feel more anxious instead of less worried. Last time, I mailed it all to the Consulate myself, and it took about a month to get it all back. This time, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it can be taken care of in a week by using Red Tape Solution (the courier). But the thought of turning over all that personal information to someone to walk it through the consulate makes me awfully nervous. Of course, that's what the big agencies do with it-- they send it to a courier, too. But still. It's birth certificates and passport photos and financial information and criminal clearances-- all the makings for stealing a person's identity. And now that I've thought that through a bit more, I have to stop writing about this because it makes me even more anxious. . .
Anyway, the FedEx package is scheduled for pick up at 4:30pm and guaranteed arrival in its destination (a mere hour and a half away by car, mind you) by 10:00am the next morning.
So please keep your fingers crossed and send your good vibes our way that the courier will get the package, deliver it to the Los Angeles P.R. China Consulate, get the stuff back authenticated, and return it to us without a hitch. And without borrowing our personal information . . .
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Super Eater, Super Sleeper
It dawns on me as I write this that perhaps I should not compare our kids. Hmm. I don't mean it like we are creating expectations for one based on the other. Just that it's interesting to see how they handle things differently.
For instance, Marcie is a super eater. She'll try anything. I'm not exaggerating here. Admittedly, she doesn't like everything, but just about. She always turns away lettuce, cucumbers, and tomatoes, for example. But if she sees anyone eating something, she wants it, too. This is so nice. Last night for dinner, I made Marcie and Casey pizza, and Jason and I had flounder. Marcie asked me for some of my flounder (by grunting at me) and then gobbled it up and asked for more. What not-even-two-year-old eats fish? Casey, on the other hand, is not adventurous with food. It's a battle just to get him to smell something new. Forget about tasting it. Of course, on the flip side of this, Casey doesn't eat constantly, isn't really a big fan of sweets (including cake), and we don't worry that he'll eat himself silly.
On the flip side of things, Casey is a super sleeper. He lays down at bed time (or nap time) and sings to himself or counts sheep or whatever. We just kiss him good-night, shut off the light, and walk about the door. He naps, even 4 1/2 for at least an hour a day. And lately, his nighttime sleep has been extending (I actually wake him up at 6:45am many mornings now, when he used to wake me up at 6:00am). Marcie, on the other hand, is not so good with the sleeping. She cat naps for like 30 minutes at a time. If we're lucky, she might nap for a solid hour in the afternoon. She screams when we put her down at bed, and she wakes up anywhere between once and four times during the night (and wakes us up right along with her). Then she's up between 5:45am and 6:15am for the day.
Last week -- or the week before-- I decided enough was enough-- it was time for Marcie to learn to put herself to sleep. So on Thursday night (I think it was Thursday), when I put her in bed, I told her she needed to put herself to sleep. That I loved her. That I was right outside her door. And that I'd be there in the morning. And good-night. I turn off the light, and I put up the gate in the doorway. And she began to cry. And cry. And scream. And cry. It started out with the loud wails. Then progressed into, "MOMMY! PO- PO!" (Po-po is essentially hold me in Cantonese.) Then she started yelling, "ALL DONE!" and finally began clapping her hands in between screams.
This all in the first five minutes after I put her down. After five minutes I walked into her bedroom, picked her up, put her in bed, told her I loved her, I would be there when she woke up, and covered her back up. Left the room and put the gate up. And repeated the scenario. I did this every 5 minutes for the first 1/2 hour. Then every 10 minutes for the next half hour. Then every 15 minutes (where I planned to hold it until she fell asleep). Thankfully, after the first 15 minutes of screaming and carrying on, she finally fell asleep.
The next night, it was the same. Except instead of taking an hour and a half, it only took maybe 45 minutes. And the next night we were out for the night. She cried and cried in the babysitter's arms for about an hour, until she fell asleep. (I guess we got our money's worth that evening!) Sunday, it was more like 20 minutes, and then for the past week, it's been between 10 and 15 minutes of crying. Over the weekend, the crying (whimpering, really) started when it was time to brush teeth now. Then, a couple nights ago, when I put her down I told her to put herself to sleep, and that I'd check on her in 10 minutes. Eight minutes later, she began crying out for me to hold her. At 10 minutes, I put her back in bed and told her I loved her. She asked me to lay down, and I told her no because she needed to learn to put herself to sleep. And when I checked on her 10 minutes later, she'd put herself to sleep! (As a side note to all of this, Casey actually has been able to sleep through all of Marcie's carrying on-- he really is a super sleeper.) And last night and tonight she went down with no tears at all. I'm banking on the theory that three nights in a row is a pattern. Yippee!
Now, I have very mixed feelings about this sleep-training. Some people call it Ferberizing, and I think I've written about it before. Others call it controlled crying because you don't leave the child in distress to cry for hours on end. I call it heart-wrenching and pretty sucky. And if I could survive on bouts of 3 hours of sleep for years on end and was confident I'd be home at bedtime to lay down with each child to help him or her fall asleep, I might consider not sleep-training. But the truth is that we all know how important sleep is. And I'd be doing a disservice to Marcie if I didn't help her learn how to put herself to sleep. I mean, if she wanted to eat chocolate kisses and only chocolate kisses, and she screamed and cried and carried on if I told her she had to eat something else, I surely wouldn't give in. Because it's bad for her teeth and bad for her growth. I think sleep is kind of like that.
On the other hand, I must admit, I've really been putting off this sleep training in many respects (though I've toyed with doing it off and on for a while) because she's adopted. If you haven't adopted a child who was older than newborn, this probably sounds crazy to you. But if you have adopted a child who's older than just-born, you probably know exactly what I mean. It's all connected to the issue of attachment. And in this sense, I may have fallen prey to the very thing I never want my kids to feel (though I imagine some day they might)-- that they behave in a particular way or feel a certain way simply because they are adopted. I don't want how they joined their family, our family, to be an excuse. For anything. And yet here I am, using it as an excuse myself.
Because a part of me worries that Marcie doesn't like sleeping alone at night (or any time, actually) because it's foreign to her. She feels safer surrounded by others-- just how it was when she lived in China. I know it's irrational because she probably doesn't even remember China anymore. But aren't fears irrational? Maybe she doesn't know why being alone in her bedroom causes her anxiety but it's because of this childhood experience she doesn't remember. Is that possible? As much as I cling to this fear, though, I also know deep in my gut and just as deeply in my heart that Marcie knows she is part of our family and always has been, since the day she was born. She has shown no difficulties with attachment, really. She seems to feel safe and secure and really appears to love being part of this little family of ours. I have no reason to believe the bedtime blues are anything but typical toddler behavior (except the Internet reading I've done on the subject of attachment, or lack thereof, which can display in just one area of a child's life sometimes).
In the end, though, I know she needs to sleep. I need to sleep. And Marcie understands when we tell her we love her, and we'll be there when she wakes up in the morning. So it'll be okay, right?
For instance, Marcie is a super eater. She'll try anything. I'm not exaggerating here. Admittedly, she doesn't like everything, but just about. She always turns away lettuce, cucumbers, and tomatoes, for example. But if she sees anyone eating something, she wants it, too. This is so nice. Last night for dinner, I made Marcie and Casey pizza, and Jason and I had flounder. Marcie asked me for some of my flounder (by grunting at me) and then gobbled it up and asked for more. What not-even-two-year-old eats fish? Casey, on the other hand, is not adventurous with food. It's a battle just to get him to smell something new. Forget about tasting it. Of course, on the flip side of this, Casey doesn't eat constantly, isn't really a big fan of sweets (including cake), and we don't worry that he'll eat himself silly.
On the flip side of things, Casey is a super sleeper. He lays down at bed time (or nap time) and sings to himself or counts sheep or whatever. We just kiss him good-night, shut off the light, and walk about the door. He naps, even 4 1/2 for at least an hour a day. And lately, his nighttime sleep has been extending (I actually wake him up at 6:45am many mornings now, when he used to wake me up at 6:00am). Marcie, on the other hand, is not so good with the sleeping. She cat naps for like 30 minutes at a time. If we're lucky, she might nap for a solid hour in the afternoon. She screams when we put her down at bed, and she wakes up anywhere between once and four times during the night (and wakes us up right along with her). Then she's up between 5:45am and 6:15am for the day.
Last week -- or the week before-- I decided enough was enough-- it was time for Marcie to learn to put herself to sleep. So on Thursday night (I think it was Thursday), when I put her in bed, I told her she needed to put herself to sleep. That I loved her. That I was right outside her door. And that I'd be there in the morning. And good-night. I turn off the light, and I put up the gate in the doorway. And she began to cry. And cry. And scream. And cry. It started out with the loud wails. Then progressed into, "MOMMY! PO- PO!" (Po-po is essentially hold me in Cantonese.) Then she started yelling, "ALL DONE!" and finally began clapping her hands in between screams.
This all in the first five minutes after I put her down. After five minutes I walked into her bedroom, picked her up, put her in bed, told her I loved her, I would be there when she woke up, and covered her back up. Left the room and put the gate up. And repeated the scenario. I did this every 5 minutes for the first 1/2 hour. Then every 10 minutes for the next half hour. Then every 15 minutes (where I planned to hold it until she fell asleep). Thankfully, after the first 15 minutes of screaming and carrying on, she finally fell asleep.
The next night, it was the same. Except instead of taking an hour and a half, it only took maybe 45 minutes. And the next night we were out for the night. She cried and cried in the babysitter's arms for about an hour, until she fell asleep. (I guess we got our money's worth that evening!) Sunday, it was more like 20 minutes, and then for the past week, it's been between 10 and 15 minutes of crying. Over the weekend, the crying (whimpering, really) started when it was time to brush teeth now. Then, a couple nights ago, when I put her down I told her to put herself to sleep, and that I'd check on her in 10 minutes. Eight minutes later, she began crying out for me to hold her. At 10 minutes, I put her back in bed and told her I loved her. She asked me to lay down, and I told her no because she needed to learn to put herself to sleep. And when I checked on her 10 minutes later, she'd put herself to sleep! (As a side note to all of this, Casey actually has been able to sleep through all of Marcie's carrying on-- he really is a super sleeper.) And last night and tonight she went down with no tears at all. I'm banking on the theory that three nights in a row is a pattern. Yippee!
Now, I have very mixed feelings about this sleep-training. Some people call it Ferberizing, and I think I've written about it before. Others call it controlled crying because you don't leave the child in distress to cry for hours on end. I call it heart-wrenching and pretty sucky. And if I could survive on bouts of 3 hours of sleep for years on end and was confident I'd be home at bedtime to lay down with each child to help him or her fall asleep, I might consider not sleep-training. But the truth is that we all know how important sleep is. And I'd be doing a disservice to Marcie if I didn't help her learn how to put herself to sleep. I mean, if she wanted to eat chocolate kisses and only chocolate kisses, and she screamed and cried and carried on if I told her she had to eat something else, I surely wouldn't give in. Because it's bad for her teeth and bad for her growth. I think sleep is kind of like that.
On the other hand, I must admit, I've really been putting off this sleep training in many respects (though I've toyed with doing it off and on for a while) because she's adopted. If you haven't adopted a child who was older than newborn, this probably sounds crazy to you. But if you have adopted a child who's older than just-born, you probably know exactly what I mean. It's all connected to the issue of attachment. And in this sense, I may have fallen prey to the very thing I never want my kids to feel (though I imagine some day they might)-- that they behave in a particular way or feel a certain way simply because they are adopted. I don't want how they joined their family, our family, to be an excuse. For anything. And yet here I am, using it as an excuse myself.
Because a part of me worries that Marcie doesn't like sleeping alone at night (or any time, actually) because it's foreign to her. She feels safer surrounded by others-- just how it was when she lived in China. I know it's irrational because she probably doesn't even remember China anymore. But aren't fears irrational? Maybe she doesn't know why being alone in her bedroom causes her anxiety but it's because of this childhood experience she doesn't remember. Is that possible? As much as I cling to this fear, though, I also know deep in my gut and just as deeply in my heart that Marcie knows she is part of our family and always has been, since the day she was born. She has shown no difficulties with attachment, really. She seems to feel safe and secure and really appears to love being part of this little family of ours. I have no reason to believe the bedtime blues are anything but typical toddler behavior (except the Internet reading I've done on the subject of attachment, or lack thereof, which can display in just one area of a child's life sometimes).
In the end, though, I know she needs to sleep. I need to sleep. And Marcie understands when we tell her we love her, and we'll be there when she wakes up in the morning. So it'll be okay, right?
I-171H **Updated**
For those of you unfamiliar with the I-171H, it's a treasured document in the international adoption process-- at least the Chinese international adoption process. It's Immigration's stamp of approval, so to speak. It's the document that verifies that, indeed, the U.S. is aware that you are going to adopt and will permit you to bring the child into our country, allowing them to become a U.S. citizen. It's the document you need to get a visa for your child to return home with you. And it's typically the last document you need to complete the dossier you mail to China.
Today, I walked in our homestudy to our local USCIS office so I could hand-carry out our coveted I-171H. The walk-in hours are 8am to noon every Tuesday here in San Diego. I got there around 7:45am this morning. There were already two people ahead of me (one who'd signed in at 7:10am and the other at 7:35am). At 8:00am, the officer called the first name, a woman by herself. He had her sit and wait, then disappeared for 30 minutes, then returned with her form. By now, there were three more people or couples after me. He called us each up, took our homestudies, and disappeared again. For around 40 minutes. Then he called the couple ahead of me, who went back inside the office area (behind the counter). Then, about 10 minutes later, he called me.
As I stepped into his cubicle, he explained there was a problem. "A problem?" I asked, my heart beating a little faster. He pulled out our I600A (the application for the I-171H) and explained that my co-petitioner (that would be Jason) didn't sign the form. It's true, Jason's signature is missing. I have no idea how that happened. I mean, I was in the midst of studying for the bar exam and a little flighty in late May. But, hmm. How did we miss that?
He didn't say anything else about it, just went on checking the rest of the file. I let my eyes explore the walls of his cubicle, and they landed on the small bulletin board of photos. And there, before me, was Marcie, smiling. A friend of ours had left our adoption announcement there last spring, and so her picture was on the wall, a welcoming beacon. I pointed her out to the officer. He said she was very cute. I agreed.
In the end, he asked me to call Jason and have him come down to the office before 4pm today to sign the form. Jason will be able to hand-carry out our I-171H after he does. I'm relieved. Yeah, it's a total pain for Jason to drive downtown and do it. But at least it'll be done. And I'm so glad we decided to do the I-171H in person, because if we hadn't, we might wait weeks to learn our file was incomplete, and we'd still have to go in and sign the form to get our I-171H. So at least we've saved a little bit of time. Hopefully. I'll let you know once we actually have the form, though.
On a separate note, one thing that's kind of neat about sitting in the USCIS office is watching all the people go in for their immigration interviews and receive their appointments to take their citizenship oath. Being born in the U.S., I probably take my citizenship a bit for granted. But there's nothing quite like watching six or seven people gleefully leave the interview room, to rush and hug their waiting family or friends and tell them, "I did it!" while holding out their citizenship oath appointment letters. And I think it's fitting that I could observe such obvious gratitude and joy for being-- or becoming-- and American today of all days. Because today is September 11th.
**UPDATE**
Jason did go in and sign our I600A form, and the officer did, true to his word, hand Jason our I-171H to take home (and Jason did). So, barring the theft or burning of the car in which the document likely sits at the moment (I hesitate to write that for fear for jinxing us), we'll have the form safe and sound at home tonight. Yippee!
Today, I walked in our homestudy to our local USCIS office so I could hand-carry out our coveted I-171H. The walk-in hours are 8am to noon every Tuesday here in San Diego. I got there around 7:45am this morning. There were already two people ahead of me (one who'd signed in at 7:10am and the other at 7:35am). At 8:00am, the officer called the first name, a woman by herself. He had her sit and wait, then disappeared for 30 minutes, then returned with her form. By now, there were three more people or couples after me. He called us each up, took our homestudies, and disappeared again. For around 40 minutes. Then he called the couple ahead of me, who went back inside the office area (behind the counter). Then, about 10 minutes later, he called me.
As I stepped into his cubicle, he explained there was a problem. "A problem?" I asked, my heart beating a little faster. He pulled out our I600A (the application for the I-171H) and explained that my co-petitioner (that would be Jason) didn't sign the form. It's true, Jason's signature is missing. I have no idea how that happened. I mean, I was in the midst of studying for the bar exam and a little flighty in late May. But, hmm. How did we miss that?
He didn't say anything else about it, just went on checking the rest of the file. I let my eyes explore the walls of his cubicle, and they landed on the small bulletin board of photos. And there, before me, was Marcie, smiling. A friend of ours had left our adoption announcement there last spring, and so her picture was on the wall, a welcoming beacon. I pointed her out to the officer. He said she was very cute. I agreed.
In the end, he asked me to call Jason and have him come down to the office before 4pm today to sign the form. Jason will be able to hand-carry out our I-171H after he does. I'm relieved. Yeah, it's a total pain for Jason to drive downtown and do it. But at least it'll be done. And I'm so glad we decided to do the I-171H in person, because if we hadn't, we might wait weeks to learn our file was incomplete, and we'd still have to go in and sign the form to get our I-171H. So at least we've saved a little bit of time. Hopefully. I'll let you know once we actually have the form, though.
On a separate note, one thing that's kind of neat about sitting in the USCIS office is watching all the people go in for their immigration interviews and receive their appointments to take their citizenship oath. Being born in the U.S., I probably take my citizenship a bit for granted. But there's nothing quite like watching six or seven people gleefully leave the interview room, to rush and hug their waiting family or friends and tell them, "I did it!" while holding out their citizenship oath appointment letters. And I think it's fitting that I could observe such obvious gratitude and joy for being-- or becoming-- and American today of all days. Because today is September 11th.
**UPDATE**
Jason did go in and sign our I600A form, and the officer did, true to his word, hand Jason our I-171H to take home (and Jason did). So, barring the theft or burning of the car in which the document likely sits at the moment (I hesitate to write that for fear for jinxing us), we'll have the form safe and sound at home tonight. Yippee!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Setback
I hope it's a tiny, tiny setback. But a setback it is nonetheless. I found what I thought was an error in our homestudy, so it didn't make it to USCIS last week. Which means nothing was notarized or certified or authenticated. It means nothing was sent in the mail to the Chinese Consulate. It means we're still waiting.
It turned out there was an error in the homestudy describing the "child we desire," but it wasn't critical because China looks at our Adoption Petition for that information and not the homestudy at all.
We still asked that it be updated. And, hopefully, we'll be following the previously described process next week instead. Hopefully.
What's the big deal of one week? Well, consider that China just made referrals for four days' worth of paperwork this month. The week-delay could, quite literally, cost us several months in the end. That is to say, we may end up waiting even longer because of it.
It's all part of the process, we realize. But it's still a bummer.
It turned out there was an error in the homestudy describing the "child we desire," but it wasn't critical because China looks at our Adoption Petition for that information and not the homestudy at all.
We still asked that it be updated. And, hopefully, we'll be following the previously described process next week instead. Hopefully.
What's the big deal of one week? Well, consider that China just made referrals for four days' worth of paperwork this month. The week-delay could, quite literally, cost us several months in the end. That is to say, we may end up waiting even longer because of it.
It's all part of the process, we realize. But it's still a bummer.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Why?
When I was in the classroom, I always, always, always explained to students why. When I asked them to do something, I gave them a reason. I didn't actually do this consciously. But I did it. And I realized I was doing it a couple years into teaching when one student who I'd had multiple times commented that one thing she loved about me was that I always gave a reason. She said it made her feel like I was treating them like adults, not making demanding orders so much as requesting they do something, and for good reason.
Apparently, though, I am not so good at this with toddlers and preschoolers. Maybe I feel more a sense of entitlement given that I'm their mother. Or maybe it's that I think little kids can only hold so much information in their heads, and giving a reason is just that little bit too much. And probably it's because I don't want to treat my almost-2-year-old and 4 1/2 year old like they are young adults. Because, duh, they aren't.
But that sure doesn't stop them from asking why. It's a relatively new phenomenon in our house. But it's not just Casey. Oh, no. Marcie does it, too. A lot. Is that normal for a 21 month old? I honestly can't tell if she even understands what she's asking. But she always uses the word correctly and in context. And usually, after I actually do tell her why, she says, "Okay, Mommy." And that's the end of it. Unless my reason is either "Because I said so" or "Because I'm the mommy." Then she just looks at me funny. And, really, I don't blame her.
Apparently, though, I am not so good at this with toddlers and preschoolers. Maybe I feel more a sense of entitlement given that I'm their mother. Or maybe it's that I think little kids can only hold so much information in their heads, and giving a reason is just that little bit too much. And probably it's because I don't want to treat my almost-2-year-old and 4 1/2 year old like they are young adults. Because, duh, they aren't.
But that sure doesn't stop them from asking why. It's a relatively new phenomenon in our house. But it's not just Casey. Oh, no. Marcie does it, too. A lot. Is that normal for a 21 month old? I honestly can't tell if she even understands what she's asking. But she always uses the word correctly and in context. And usually, after I actually do tell her why, she says, "Okay, Mommy." And that's the end of it. Unless my reason is either "Because I said so" or "Because I'm the mommy." Then she just looks at me funny. And, really, I don't blame her.
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