Why the hit clicker?

in the side bar under the picture flicker you may ask? Well, because it has a map and I'm hoping that a dot will appear in the vicinity of Nanning (probably not, I learned first hand last January that blogspot is filtered in Guangxi) or Guangzhou. If the dot appears in Guangzhou, it may mean the YuYu's foster brother has access to a computer and can click in to see updated photos of YuYu once in awhile and that would be nice to know. That's all, I'm not counting visits, although it is interesting to see dots in Europe and Tasmania?, I just want to know if Huang Wei can see YuYu, it broke his heart to lose her and I want to let him know she continues to thrive and still loves him very much.

Project Me Bag

My Ellie is . . .. and I've started with the superlative adjectives and back-spaced so many times I've worn out this screen which tells me that I do not have sufficient vocabulary to adequately describe this amazing little human. She does not judge, she embodies the word "inclusive," she is calm and centered, silly and gullible, not too adventurous or observant, but always willing to help without a word of complaint. She is short in stature among her peers by a long way; her tall friend Laurel had to lift her up to write her name on the white board in her new classroom on the first day of fourth grade last week. But where some children would be mortified, Ellie just giggled hysterically. Ellie is the shortest student in fourth grade but she just shrugs and says, "Someone has to be the shortest." Sanguine is the word that always comes to mind to describe this treasure I was entrusted to raise. My first goal in parenting Ellie is to just not ruin her with my own special brand of nuttiness. All I need to do for Ellie is provide praise, love and safety and make room for her own natural instincts, her predisposition to be kind, fair and accepting, to flourish and grow.

I adopted Ellie in 1998 when she was 14 months old and she is now 9.5 years old. The moment she was placed in my arms is seared into my memory: I was never so happy or grateful just to be me. She traveled to China with me in 2001 and 2004 on our trips to adopt Mimi and YuYu. She was not troubled on either trip with regard to feelings of yearning or loss as described by parents of other adopted children who take them back to their home countries. For right now, she does not question how she came to be a Chinese-American girl raised by a single mother in the heart of the Wasatch. She knows that she has birth parents and that she will never know the who or the how or the why of her beginning in life. She seems to be satisfied with the answer that there is no answer and she may never know anymore about her start in China than she does right now.

As an adoptive parent, I try, try so hard to be sensitive to the knowledge of everything my children have lost, both emotionally and culturally. That even though they are ethnically Chinese, they will never be more than tourists in their birth country. That alone is a huge loss, never mind the issues of abandonment and separation they will need to deal with as they grow to adulthood. I'm also aware that Ellie, even though she is almost ten, does not yet have the emotional language to talk about those feelings and has not processed any of the contradictions in her life. She made me a mom, and my great happiness is the result of another mother's great pain. All she knows is that she is loved, here and now, and she returns the feelings with equal intensity.

So, her first homework assignment in fourth grade is to decorate a brown paper bag, a Me Bag, with illustrations about her interests and to fill the bag with 5-7 items, including a few pictures that represent the important things in her life. She will share the Me Bag with her classmates as they get to know each other this week. She filled the bag with a sodoku puzzle book, a tiny stuffed dog, a soccer participation medal, hamma bead doodads, a sketch book and a photo of her grandmother and her sisters. I am standing there watching her load the bag and ask, I think helpfully, "don't you want to add something from China?" Ellie's response "no." The "no" wasn't presented with either positive or negative inflection, just "no." So there you have it. My totally assimilated little American girl. Despite my efforts to incorporate Chinese culture in our home, she has not escaped the collective. She has become one with the Disney Channel Stars, Saturday mornings on the soccer field, dvd watching in the mini-van and microwave popcorn. What can you do?

A rose by any other name

Would not be as sweet as my YuYu. My dearest little love sponge, the most gentle, kind, spacey love bucket child, started first grade on Wednesday. Although she didn’t come home with the dreaded family tree project (sigh of relief, hate to start the new year with the need to lecture her teacher about insensitivity to children who’s family trees are pretty sparse), she did come home with a questionnaire about her name, e.g., what does it mean, who gave it to her, where did it come from(?), was she named after anyone. I sat down and filled in the blanks in what I like to think of as the sanitized version because, although her teacher could not know it, my precious YuYu comes with a name that is loaded down with emotional and cultural baggage. But, I was calm, it’s not her English name that's loaded and I figure I don’t need to go out of my way to pound on her teacher over a seemingly innocent little assignment that isn't so innocent for this particular student. I just filled in the questionnaire in a way that does not bring any special or extra attention to YuYu’s name. She is named after my cousin who died too young (Kathryn), YuYu’s brave great-great-grandmother who immigrated to the US from Germany (Wiemar Republic, raging inflation and political instability, but pre-Hitler) only after earning enough money to send each of her 12 children on before her in the 1920’s (Marta) and raised them all by herself when she was widowed in the 1930’s. I also kept YuYu’s second and third Chinese symbols, Rui (auspicious) Yu (treasure). But YuYu’s first symbol? Baby’s named a bad name.

The good folks in charge of naming at the Nanning SWI gave every child who entered the orphanage the same surname: Yuan. Giving every child the same surname is not an uncommon naming practice in the realm of Chinese orphanages. All children from Ellie and Mimi’s SWI (different provinces) are named Fu (good fortune) blank blank. At Nora’s SWI, the surname changes every year and identifies the child’s birth year. However, no family in the Guilin egroup has indicated that they have a child who was abandoned more than a year after his/her birth and whether the SWI changed the child’s name to match the same name as other children born in that year or the name of the children brought to the SWI that year. Clear as mud?

The sad/bad aspect of YuYu’s Chinese surname? It’s the Chinese symbol for orphanage or institution. Every child that remains in the Nanning SWI until they age out into who knows what kind of life will carry the burden of a name that brands them indelibly as a person who was raised in an orphanage. Happily, this practice has changed, but only within the past year. The orphanage officials did this from a position of extreme insensitivity or, worse, they did it on purpose and they knew exactly what they were doing to these kids. For example, the director at Mimi’s institution gave every child who came into the SWI in 2000 the family name of “De” which means the morality/integrity of the Chinese people. Mimi is Fu (also not a real family name in China, no one except an orphanage kid would be named Fu) De Xin. Before I was scheduled to travel to adopt Mimi, I joined the Fuling egroup and there was a discussion about the meaning of De. A parent who traveled before me wrote that she had asked the director why she chose De for this “class” of children. The director’s response knocked me back: she said she gave the children a symbol of strong morality to make up for the immoral acts of their parents, no further elaboration. I had intended to use De Xin (symbol for keep in touch/write a letter) in Mimi’s permanent name, but dropped it like a hot rock and quickly notified my agency to make sure the paperwork was completed for Meredith Jean Fuling (where she spent her first year).
So, I didn’t pound YuYu’s teacher about the name assignment, and YuYu can be proud of her English name and the Chinese nickname she prefers, I blogged about it instead. YuYu’s teacher doesn’t even know the bullet she just missed, more info than she needs, more info than YuYu needs to know until she is MUCH, MUCH older. See, most kids have scrapbooks; my kids are going to have this blog. 

It's official, Mrs. Ellison is an angel

Stefani Ellison was notified by the CCAI yesterday that she will be among the honored at the annual awards banquet in DC next month. Talk about pulling teeth. I'm sorry I had to arm wrestle with Hatch's office to get it done, but there can be no doubt that she is a deserving recipient, a real angel, and now she has the plaque to prove it. Yay for Stefani. And, if YOU know any one who you think is potential angel material, you do not have to be an angel to nominate them (myself as a case in point). Go to the CCAI website (www.ccainstitute.org), look up your state and see which of your congress persons and senators are members of the coalition and send the nominating letter to ALL of them just in case. Then, learn from my mistakes, follow up, follow up, follow up.

still with the over-reacting

I know, I know, I know, if I had an OUNCE of self-discipline, planned and executed a party count-down to do list that I wouldn't be freaking out all over my kids during the short precious hours before we're expecting guests. The house was hammered (down side of having in-home child care during the summer months) and I couldn't even get close to Costco on Friday afternoon (traffic on Third West was unreal and just for future reference, you can throw a party without stepping foot in Costco before the event, it's just not as good a party, because, really, what spells gracious like a Costco meat/fruit/veggie/you-name-it platter?) and I still hadn't quite wrapped up the Folsom Prison paving stone project in the corner of the pool which leads me to an ungrammatical but HUGE thank you to Dutch Uncle Stew who, with his full ESP powers engaged, called at noon and asked if I needed any help, DO I DO I YES YES YES, what a man) ending sentence now, will pick up thread right here. So, I warned the kids in advance that as I needed their help and I had a job they could handle, I wanted them to jump into action, but if not under direct threat from me, they were to keep themselves occupied and out of the way. The three littlest aren't "helpers" yet, but Ellie can really pitch in. Ellie was straightening up in their bedroom, Nora was bored and directionless (my fault), Ellie could not "play" chess, they pretend, on a small magnetic chess board, so Nora just threw it, the plastic case exploded, pieces went everywhere, I exploded, no child of mine has EVER thrown/broken something to get attention or to work out a frustration, and I marched her little butt out on the deck (in the shade) told her that I was ANGRY, that she needed to use words, she was not allowed to throw and break toys, and that she was banished for a bad bad choice. Periodically, I would look out (sliding door from the dining room, I could always see her), ask her if she was bored, she would shake her head yes, and I would say good. I let her lay out there for close to an hour. I didn't even realize I had let it go that long because the last 20 minutes were spent snaking out a dollar store pom pom from the vacuum because my usually reliable helper had been too indifferent to bend down and pick it up. So, to Nora's credit, she did not tantrum out there, but I had huge guilt.

I left her too long and it was nice not having to deal with her in the house. Once again, my expectations for her behavior far exceeded her capabilities. I created a bad situation with all the rush rush cleaning and set her up for failure. On the other hand, sometimes in the course of human affairs, a mom needs to clean and kids need to lay low and it would be ideal if that family could make it through the morning without shattered chess sets. What would be more ideal is a mom who didn't feel like the top of her head was going to blow off over a minor infraction. I think of other parents dealing with purposeful destruction of costly items, public meltdowns, hours long tantruming and I really need some one to do the Moonstruck thing: slap me and shout "snap out of it." I know I know.

Hey, that was fun, let's do it again

We hosted a SMSP (single mom swim party, I didn't think that up, I had to have that explained to me, although it should probably be the FSMSP, F for fabulous) on Saturday afternoon and I think everyone had a good time. I remember the days when we spent most of our time at these parties chasing after toddlers with tissues and wipes and could hardly get a word in edgewise because our little little kids were running amok. This party was either (a) evidence of the effect of single quota imposed by the CCAA almost five years ago because all of the kids except for a cute as a bug 14-month-old from Kazahkstan were at least five years old, or (b) I'm way out of the loop and there are bunches of hip single adoptive parents out there and I don't know them. If the latter explanation is the case, I hope they're out there having as much fun as we did on Saturday watching our beautiful quota-free kids cavort in the pool.Having a house with a pool takes some getting used to. First, it's the pool maintenance or "how fast can algae take over your cement pond" challenge, then it's the make sure you keep a sharp look out for sinkers or the "how long can a preschooler float under water before the hostess figures out someone is drowning" issue (I have vowed to be MUCH more vigilant, believe me) and now its the lost and found box issue. By the time we're ready to say good bye, everyone is worn out from the the sun and chlorine and they just want to get the heck out of Dodge. So, if you are missing kids' flip flops, swim suit cover ups, or beach towels, give me a jingle. I think I really do need a lost and found box by the door. Even if I have to lard it with our own items, it might cause guests to pause a minute and check to make sure they have everything they came with on the way out.

How neat is this?

"Side the last week we the whole family leave for the sea play, play very much happy. Now sends a picture to give you, lets you also share our joy!"

That is the Babelfish translation of the message I just got from Huang Wei, YuYu's foster brother, that accompanied a dozen photos from their beach excursion. Can you stand it? I can't stand it. I can't wait to run home and show YuYu. Since YuYu's adoption in 2004, I've sent some money to make life easier for her family and for Huang Wei to get a computer and camera for college and for us to stay in touch. Got to love that technology. The little one is Xiao Zhen's "commercial" foster daugther, as opposed to a foster placement from the Nanning SWI. This little one's parents work too much and are paying YuYu's foster family to raise her. Another little heart breaker in the making. 

Rant update

Oh good hell, I just listened to a message from Marreen Casper, Senator Hatch's staff member tasked with processing the Angel in Adoption nominations. She went on an excursion for work, tipped an ATV on herself, has been "really goofy," is just embarrassed to tears that she didn't get this done, oh good hell, I can't even respond by phone, I'm too embarrassed for her that she would use the "it must have been the cold medication that made me do it" excuse, so so so
so so lame, what an asshat. But, since NO ONE from Bennett's office has called me back, I will fax a letter to Ms. Casper imploring her to submit Stefani's nomination as quickly as possible and cc: it to the CCAI. Oh my, I'm furious. Here's the letter, I hope it makes her feel bad:

Dear Ms. Casper:

I just listened to the message you left in my voice mailbox this morning. I am responding in writing for three reasons: (a) it is past the time you mentioned that you would be leaving for the weekend, (b) I’m very angry and embarrassed by your excuse and teeing off on you will serve no useful purpose, and (c) by responding in writing to your offer to proceed with Sen. Hatch’s nomination of Mrs. Ellison for the CCAI Angel in Adoption award I can also provide Ms. Armstrong at the CCAI with notice that she can expect to hear from you regarding this matter on Monday, August 21, 2006. In addition, no one in Senator Bennett’s office has returned any of my phone calls and this matter does not appear to have any urgency to his staff members either. Since you have all of the relevant information, you are in the best position to complete the nomination and I am requesting that you do so as quickly as possible.

I am relieved that the CCAI will extend the nomination deadline so that Mrs. Ellison may be included in this year’s awards event. I am very sorry that all the difficulty I have had trying to draw attention to Mrs. Ellison and provide her with this recognition from the CCAI has tarnished the award or will make her feel like she is in any way less than deserving of the recognition. This has ended up feeling more like a root canal than a project I embarked on to make a dear friend know how much her work is appreciated by both the families and children whose lives she has touched and the rest of the adoption community.

If you have any questions or need any more information, I can be reached by phone or email. I encourage you to make this request a top priority on your August 21, 2006, work schedule to insure that you have every thing you need to process the nomination before the extended deadline expires.

Sincerely,




Marji Hanson



Yeah, never be in doubt that I can be a huge ASS when I want to and sometimes even when I don't know I'm doing it. But this time, I knew.

Getting my rant on

That's what blogs are for, right? so it's my turn to use this little forum to blow my stack a little. There is a political thing created by Sen. Larry Craig (R. Id.), don't like his politics, creepy Bush Republican type, but, hey, he's an adoptive dad in a position of power and he whipped this institute together and it does good things. http://www.ccainstitute.org/ So anyway, every year they throw a big recognition banquet to focus attention on adoption related issues and to recognize people who make a contribution in the adoption community. Most of your own state's congressional representatives are members and are entitled to nominate someone from their jurisdiction each year for an Angel in Adoption award. So I have tried and tried and I'm still trying to nominate Stefani Ellison, the China co-coordinator for CHI (see links in sidebar) for this award. It's a good thing; she gets recognition in front of her peers for all the great work she does. Even though she deals with some difficult clients, families that commit to a child and then suffer financial or emotional set backs, or just change their minds, kids with severe medical needs who really really need families, she still has managed to place over 300 special needs kids since 2002 when the CCAA started the Waiting Child program and CHI started its participation in the project.

So I solicited letters of support from her clients and colleagues last year and submitted the package to Rep. Matheson's office because he is almost a Democrat and therefore not repugnant to me like Orrin Hatch and Cedar City, where the Ellisons live, is in his district. His office TOTALLY SCREWS THE POOCH and doesn't submit any nomination last year with this lame excuse: "At the last minute, we received so many nominations, we didn't have time to investigate each potential recipient, so Rep. Matheson chose not to submit any nomination this year." I was fit to be tied.

So well in advance of this year’s deadline, I retrieve the packet from Matheson’s lame-ass staff member and submit it to evil Hatch’s office after a nice conversation with his staff member about how inept Matheson’s office had been and how much Stefani deserved the recognition, I mean, how hard should this be right, 300 kids, she should be a lock, right? So when Stefani had not been contacted by the CCAI, I tried to reach Hatch’s staff member, I get silence. I call the CCAI and CONTRARY to what I had been told by Hatch’s staff member in July ( a senile sounding biddy down in his St. George office, and I can just imagine she’s one step up from a Gray Lady volunteer in this outpost Hatch maintains only for show because everyone knows the real action in this state happen much farther north), that she was submitting the nomination that day to the CCAI, she was LYING to me. The CCAI never received any form of communication from Hatch, I know because I had to call directly to follow up on our inept tax-payer dollars compensated public servant. Shouldn’t this be easier? I’m not asking Hatch to get a drug-abusing music producer out of some Malaysian jail, I just want Stefani to have a nice plaque she can hang in her office.

So, now I have to retrieve the package yet again, the CCAI will suspend the deadline and wait for Sen. Bennett’s office to submit the nomination, Stefani hangs fire and can’t make reservations for hotel or flight because who the hell knows if this will really happen for her this year, and I get to have the top of my head blow off because some slack-ass nincompoop can’t be honest that she has no idea what she is doing down to St. George.

Stay tuned for further developments.

Hanson Girls 6?

Okay, here is our world rocking news, we have a pet, we are now officially dog people, let the spoiling begin. Her name is Lucy and she is a 2-year-old hand-me-down silky terrier. I have resisted getting a pet because I am (a) lazy, (b) allergic to cats, (c) lazy and (d) lazy. Ellie has wanted a dog for a long long time, but only in her polite Ellie way of bringing it to my attention. No explicit whining or begging, just well placed, but not too frequent, comments about how great this or that dog is, or how much this or that friend really enjoys their dog. But I’ve consistently said no, not for us, puppies are harder to raise than babies at first, e.g., babies at least do their business in diapers and you can take them to KinderCare and they won’t chew up all your furniture while you are at work. But when my mother mentioned that her friend from way back in their high school days in Bear Lake needed to find a good home for this little lady, I said, what the heck, my home is good, relatively, depends, I can think of worse, bring her to us. Mom’s friend got Lucy for a companion after her husband of almost 50 years died two years ago. But mom’s friend has connected with a high school sweet heart, also a widower, and they are traveling a lot and Lucy is kenneled more than not so mom’s friend wanted her to be with a family/owner that was at least home more often. Since I’m too lazy (see above) to get us organized for just a weekend camping trip, we won the Lucy lottery because, shoot, we never go anywhere.

So Lucy arrived Friday evening with BAGS and bags o’dog stuff, BAGS I say, even a little coat to cover her own silken, but pretty skimpy, fur coat in the winter. And she is stuck with us now because the contents of the BAGS are scattered throughout our good but cluttered house and I will never get it all back in one spot again and by the time I do, she may like us and want to stay. Lucy is very sad and subdued, not at all happy here yet, kind of like YuYu acted for several months after she came to be a Hanson girl. She must feel like she is in the Twilight Zone after living with a retired lady in mourning to a house full of hands that want to pet her and small faces that want the get really really close to see if they can make Lucy smile ala Winn Dixie. So this is a good thing, pets are a good thing, right?? Sure they are, who could not adore this furry little face. Here’s hoping Lucy starts to like a little because she sure needs to start eating and drinking again; at six pounds, there’s not enough of her to survive an extended hunger strike as opposed to me, I could survive a famine.

P.S. Nora’s feet ARE big, but not that big, bad angle. And it was a really good day until Nora spit on Ellie as they were getting ready for bed and I had Lucy on the side lawn to do her dog business, sigh. I’ve started taking away Nora’s favorite things (now that she has enough of her own things) and putting them in jail whenever she does something disgusting, disrespectful, mean, impulsive, etc., The jail population waxes and wanes but it’s pretty full right now, sigh.

Comments

Teri in Iowa, thanks for the good anonymous advice (wink, wink) and for letting me know that you're concerned and keeping track of Nora and I. And to Amy and Kim, thank you so much for sharing your own insights to parenting because I'm blocked on this Nora thing and I do need to know what other, more thoughtful folks have discovered about parenting because I am not a more thoughtful folk. I've felt more like a good herd dog with the first three; guiding/pushing/herding around the edges of the flock because they intuitively know the right direction, they just need a wee yip or a yap from the left or right to keep them on the straight and narrow. With Nora, I feel like I need to put a saddle on her and ride her until she is exhausted and capitulates to my way of right until she can be legally emancipated and then all bets are off, she is society's burden at that point. I really do appreciate your concern and that you take the time to give me guidance and encouragement.
I so wish that Nora and I were better matched, I so wish that I liked her more, I so wish that this problem I have learning to love her was easier to solve, and so on, and so on, etc., etc., and if wishes were fishes, I'd have a fish fry. Yum, I love denial, where can I get some more. But sheesh, it is not going to get better by neglect, crap, I had been so hoping that ignoring the elephant in the room for the past seven months was the right ticket. I need to work at this, this being Nora's mom thing. I need to keep reminding myself that I need to work at this and if keeping this blog keeps me honest with myself, then there it is, a little public self-inflicted flogging is a small price to pay to improve myself because Nora deserves a fully invested parent who can love and appreciate her for who she is, all the energy, goofyness and gorgeousness and the in your face pouty spitting not fair kid who slips out too often and plays me like a xylophone.

Man, I need a life

So I got the kids to sleep and went downstairs to see what in the heck is wrong with the printer, I'm trying to get a box in the mail to Nora's foster family and my attempt to print photos this morning resulted in some psychedelic '60's rock poster kind of stuff and to add even more length to this sentence, I ended up adding nerd crap to this blog. I'm taking good advice and developing a hobby? oh I guess you could say that, but mostly it's just putzing around because it's there on other people's blogs and I'm thinking what, hey, I want things that flash on my blog too, I need I want (long story about my younger brother Clark and a beebee gun, I need I want a beebee gun, repeat a bazillion times) flashy crap on my blog. Since Nora can't read yet, and, therefore, can't read about all of my angst surrounding her adoption, I'll show her the birthday ticker and the Flickr thingy tomorrow before I go to work, I know she'll like it a lot.

Ooh, and we have a very special guest arriving tomorrow afternoon, but I won't let the dog, um, er cat, yeah, cat, out of the bag until the kids get the full measure of their surprise. But can I tell you, it is going to ROCK their world and teach them responsibility and empathy and all that other good stuff too.

Counseling session cancelled today, counselor called in sick, but that will give me more time to do my homework with Nora. I'm supposed to involve her in an activity that I enjoy and that we can do together. The theory is the more I concentrate my attention just on her, the more I will grow to like and appreciate her. And I'm not disputing that she is a great kid, it's just the button pushing that is keeping me at arm's length. How do you grow to love a child that pushes the big buttons one minute and the next minute is just a regular good kid with no apparent recollection that her behavior of half an hour ago sent her mother around the bend. This is pathetic, but so far we've cleaned shrimp, done hand dishes and skimmed the pool together, but she does seem to enjoy it a lot when she gets to contribute and work by my side as long as it is on her schedule, e.g. mucho pouting and stamping if she is not in the mood to help. I don't think that's what the counselor had in mind, but I'm beyond my creative resources to come up with anything else that we can do together that the other three wouldn't be standing there thinking, hey, what's up, how come only Nora gets to do that fun thing with mom.

But for tonight, no more nerdy computer stuff until I can refill light cyan and get Nora's pictures printed.

In the swim of things

Okay, that will teach me, AGAIN, mid-message and pictures loaded, something, either DSL or stupid blogspot freezes up and I lose many wonderfully written and very insightful paragraphs, sparkling gems that you would have adored reading, and I’m too tired to even attempt to recreate the moment. Stupid computer. Also, it just occured to me that if I leave the camera on portrait setting while I have it pointed at bobbing bathing beauties that the photo quality, heck these aren't even in focus, photo quality is an overstatement, might be impaired a tiny bit, d'ya think?

So here are pictures of wet kids having fun in the pool. I bought the house because it was parked in the backyard of both the elementary and jr. high schools. I couldn’t buy the house and not buy the pool, I asked, so I learned how to maintain the pool and the learning curve has been steeeeeeeeeeeep. Especially because the whole set-up is antique/vintage/pieces o’crappish. But the girls love it and are becoming strong swimmers and Nora has just been amazing. Our fun teacher from last summer wasn’t available for private lessons this summer, so the girls have been on their own and Nora just pushed herself to keep up with her sisters and can now swim under water across the deep end. Pretty darned amazing when compared to YuYu’s tentativeness that lasted all of last summer when it was her first exposure to swimming.

I have another appointment tomorrow with a family counselor. This is only the third session, but just talking about my fears/guilt/anger has actually been helpful and this is an admission from a reach-down-grab-those-bootstraps-a-real-team-player-plays-hurt kind of gal. I have done this before, YuYu was adopted at exactly the same age as Nora was at the time of her adoption, and this one just wasn’t feeling right. I knew I had to get help with my feelings for Nora. I was out of my depth. Thank you to all who wrote with encouragement and walked a mile in your moccasins kind of advice, it is good to know that others have had the same doubts and struggles. I have learned that I can’t respond to posts from anonymous folks, no email address is associated with your messages, but thanks for thinking of me. It’s not as pitiful/dramatic as I let myself sound. I have a wonderful mother who lives within 30 minutes, good friends in town and great friends on the internet, other singles with many kids, and it helps me feel better knowing I’m not swinging this hammer on my own.

Dont' look behind the curtain

Okay, thanks to the encouragement from Anonymous and Darlene, I will fill everyone in on the reason why I'm reluctant to post any more entries to this blog. I added Nora last January and it has not been pretty. We are a bad fit. I had been delusional. I thought I was the uber-mom. Everyone always told me what a great job I was doing with Ellie, YuYu and Mimi, really, everyone, and of course, I realize no one was going to step up and criticize me to my face, but still, I got raves. They were well behaved, clean mostly, and charming through and through and I love each one with a purple passion. I really thought that being a single parent of three was no big deal. I could do three with one hand tied behind my back, like falling off a log, like butter. I now know I was more like the Cowardly Lion dancing and feinting and shadow boxing a big show but I had no magic powers, no mom-wizardry. All I had been doing was pretend parenting, the great wizard was just plain old me with great theatrical props in the form of three very mild-mannered, easy going, easy to please daughters.
Since I brought Nora into the family I now understand why I believed before that single parenting, heck any parenting, could be so easy. My first three daughters ARE easy, they had me duped. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I don’t and I blame those three for giving me a false sense of accomplishment. I am not the uber-mom because those three tricked me into thinking I had even the slightest clue about filling this role. As it turns out, forget about the super mom suit, they won't be measuring me for that any time soon. The badge I should be wearing is struggling, flailing, cartoon-like mom: no heft, no substance, no there there.
I am not attaching to Nora. She pushes my buttons and I get so frustrated and angry with her so fast, it makes my head spin. I scare myself, can you imagine what it does to Nora? I demand more good behavior than she is currently capable of providing and I know that, in my head I know that. I look at her and know that she was institutionalized, that her foster family was exasperated with her too, that she has such a HUGE emotional deficit to overcome but still, I just want to say, so change already. Stop all this pouting, sulking, stamping, “not fair”, tattling, complaining malcontent crap and get with the Happy Hanson Girls program. Toe the line and get in tight formation like the other three. Be a team player dammit, right now, don’t make me repeat this to you again, and all of my wishing she were different probably exacerbates her odd-man-out feelings. We do make small progress, but we inevitably go backwards again. I am not cut out for this adventure. I sat on her bed last night looking at her, searching my heart for a solid label for anything I can feel for her besides resentment and it just is not there and if I were more hopeful, I would type "not there yet" but I’m not hopeful enough to type yet, yet.
So welcome to my whine fest, drink up, woohoo, partay. Yuck, I bore even myself with this pity party. I have pulled back the curtain to expose the charlatan that I am because I have no idea what the hell a real parent should act like and maybe if I throw myself at the feet of the blog world I can get some ideas, suggestions, guidance, tools, strategies, something, anything to help me learn to love this gorgeous, exasperating child. But for now, I would really like to click my ruby slippers and have all of this fixed, poof, like magic, but I guess I left those shoes in Kansas and I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore. I know I have to put on the hip-waders, do the hard work and grow up quite a little bit if I’m going to be able to drag all of us back to Oz in one Happy Hanson Girls package. But mostly I would just rather just piss and moan and hope for my mojo to return without all the intense emotional labor that I know is in store for me and Nora in our future.

To blog, or not to blog, shrug

Saturday night after the girls got to sleep, I had my laptop at home to catch up on some work, so, of course, sat their like a huge potato zombie and clicked through adoption blogs. I can't even remember why or which one was the first one I clicked into, but once you get into them, it's like quick sand, one blog leads to more links, leads to more blogs and more personal information than I thought I ever wanted to know, but apparently, I want to know because I just sat there clicking and reading and clicking and reading for way way way too long.

Some of these folks are very entertaining. They can make me want to read about the fourth diaper bag and gazillionith Baby Gap "drooly" outfit that bought that day. Some aren't so entertaining and I want to say, oh, put a sock in it. I am fascinated by the whole phenomenon. They have audiences, they write to please their audiences, they are pleased when they please their readers, they keep track of comments, they are hurt when no one comments, they know the lingo, they have the time, they respond to email, they make e-friends, they post controversial opinions and don't seem to get offended when they get negative comments, to the contrary they seem to relish the opportunity to lash back, they can manipulate the webhost site with neat things that flash and link video clips. I am too middle-aged, I am unworthy, I cannot keep up with that kind of "competition."

I can report, that's easy enough, when I was in China and observing and regurgitating my thoughts. But I've been home with Nora for over six months and the difficult work of parenting a child you weren't expecting her to be and attaching to that small fully formed and often annoying little human, that is hard, very hard to write about. But, I'm thinking, could writing about it help me accomplish the task better? Would it keep me honest when I slack off, when I'm supposed to be doing my "homework" with Nora, but I just would rather watch reality tv? I'm just wondering out loud because, apparently, that's what people who blog do, they wonder outloud. Let me think about it. Older child adoption is of great interest to a lot of people, I just don't know if I have anything to say that would be helpful, enlightening or comment worthy.

Hip Hooray We Love Aunt Fay!

Okay, with some gentle nudging I was reminded that I have been remiss and here are some sort of recent shots of Nora and the girls. The pom pom pictures are the result of a big box of dollar store wonders that the girls' great aunt Fay sent them in March and it was a great break from the ordinary for the girls to tear into that box of treasures. More about Nora's adjustment and, more problematically, mine in another post.

All girls are princesses

Sheoot, it's cold. We're trapped inside and trying hard to keep everyone occupied and productively engaged. Nora (as she is referring to herself these days) was again the star driveway shoveler, that girls takes a task and just doesn't let go until the job is finished and she really likes the shoveling.
My incredible Ellie organized most of the activities today and princess fashion show just had to be the highlight. Each girl sashayed down the hall and later sang a song of her own choosing acapella style. Too cute, I can hardly stand it. Nora hasn't broken into the Mimi/YuYu joined at the hip action yet. I don't think that will happen until she gets a lot more language. The games Mimi and YuYu play the most involve a lot of imagination and role-playing and Nora just can't do that yet. Just thought you'd like to see my princesses on parade. Talk about a full heart.

Mixed Bag

We've been home for two whole weeks and she still can't speak the English, what's up with that? She must not be trying hard enough. I wish I had kept a blog/journal/something for the other girls, because I'm having these completely delusional memories that YuYu was speaking English by now. I do remember by week nine YuYu told me she couldn't talk to her foster parents on the phone because "I don't speak Chinese." Nora chatters away in Chinese and doesn't seem to get upset that we can't understand most of what she says. She can say "Mama peezy (please)" and "NO." She seems happy most of the time, I think. She sleeps well and she's a good eater. Nora will eat peanut butter sandwiches and for that, I am blessed. Now I have two out of four (although Mimi not reliably) who will eat a peanut butter sandwich, or any kind of sandwich (oooh, that Ellie and her, shall we say selective, eating habits). Nora loves to help, I couldn't get her to stop shoveling the driveway until every inch of ice was chipped and scraped. She adores Ellie, but who doesn't. She started right in at Mimi's preschool and except for a monumental fit this morning and that she HATES to be outside in the cold, she seems to have a good time her teachers think she is doing okay. She is still a puzzle to me because we can't talk. I can only guess at what she wants or likes, sometimes I get it right. I hear MaMA, all the time and I have to infer all her wants and needs from the tone of her MaMA. She seems to like me more and more. She is free with the hugs and wants to sit on my lap. She still doesn't like to be corrected, but is dealing with it a lot better, not as much pouting, but still more than I'm used to. I make sure to use Chinese words when I have to correct Mimi or YuYu so Nora knows that I'm mean to all my kids, not just her. I do a lot of laundry and go through a lot of groceries and I have to remind myself, oh yeah, I've got a big family.
When I think of all the changes she has experienced in the past four weeks, I can't imagine what she is thinking or expecting to happen next and I think she is adjusting and adapting really well. Now, it's up to me to adjust and adapt very well. I think it will come together if I can keep up with the laundry and grocery shopping.

End Days

No apocalyptic pun intended.

I’ve received some gentle prodding (euphemism for get it together and let us know how you are doing at home) to do the trip post-mortem. So, with a heavy heart tonight, I’ll tell the rest of the story. My little grandma died this afternoon, she was one month shy of 95 and lived a hard/good life, but I just thought she would last forever. All five feet two stubborn funny inches of her finally wore out and she left us today. If you have the capacity, please keep my mother in your heart tonight. I just wish Grandma could have met Nora; she would have liked her I’m sure.

The last day in Guangzhou started late. I had finally adjusted to China time and slept until 7:00 am. Then I ran around buying the stuff I swore I wouldn’t buy this time and an extra suitcase to carry the unnecessary stuff home for good measure. The kiddie rides under the raised roadway to the hotel were open this morning. The girls went round and round while I surreptitiously snapped photos of the groups practicing Chinese opera, ball room dancing, some form of martial arts, you name it, there were folks out doing it Wednesday morning. The Chinese winter holiday started last week so there were a lot of kids at the play ground too. I had a lovely conversation with a young man who had taken the Anglo name of LeBron. He wants to go to school at Harvard and become a businessman/conservationist, he’s mad for anything NBA and I think I really disappointed him because I don’t follow sports and only listen to NPR on the radio and couldn’t tell him about my favorite music. I was getting so burned out on photo snapping, that I forgot to get LeBron’s picture.


Most of the families (I don't know if the Myracles got the memo) met for a group photo before boarding the new buses the White Swan recently purchased to cart families back and forth to the new consulate location. As we boarded the spanking new cruiser, I asked Connie if the White Swan had bought the buses to keep the US adoption travelers in its property after the consulate moved off Shamian Island, her look was like, yeah, duh. Oh, and totally off topic, but to those families that have fought for food at the White Swan breakfast buffet, imagine what it would be like if you were the ONLY family in the room from 7:30 am until after 8:00 am like we were on Sunday morning, thank you Kim Jong Il, who says you’re the second most evil dictator in the world?

We jetted over (irony, there is no jetting in Guangzhou, it seems like you go in circles just to get up to the freeway to get off again real soon) to the Tian He (sp?) high rise commercial district where the consulate is now located. And here’s another irony: YuYu’s beloved gege (sounds like guh guh, Chinese for older brother) earned the right to attend a pretty prestigious military academy (equivalent to say the Air Force Academy, not quite West Point) in Guangzhou. His plan to support her when he finished university may have actually worked. For those reading this who have traveled to Guangzhou and stayed on Shamian Island, you may have noticed the trim young men in cheap green uniforms stationed around the island and they march in formation to make shift changes. (And after a wild goose chase to the island security center to find someone who may know gege’s unit and phone number, every inch of that island is on video, so don’t let your baby pee in the bushes (yet another stab at irony, Chinese babies pee anywhere they want to). YuYu’s parents had contacted gege’s instructors to ask permission for YuYu and I to meet him while we were in Guangzhou, but since he is a first year student, he can’t have any visitors unless accompanied by his parents, crap. So there we were at the new consulate and there he was, right across the street standing guard (when not in class and classes were over for the winter holiday) as the Eastern Railway Station, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it, crap. Even if we had time to go poke around, I certainly would not have wanted to get him in trouble while he was on duty.
So they herded all of us into a waiting area (after security screening and much aimless milling) and there must have been what? 100 families, seemed like a mob. It really took a long time, but each parent must be seen by a consular official (even en masse) before the adopted child’s US immigrant visa can be issued because we swear that the information we provided on the immigrant application is true and correct. Then, in an anti-climatic flash, you’re done. All those months of paperwork and waiting, all over in an I do solemnly swear or affirm statement that takes 7 seconds to repeat. But a big relief no matter the lack of ceremony.

Our family and the incredible Myracle family (again, no pun intended, but what a burden Mike carries in his professional life, Dr. Myracle, whew) left straight from the consulate to the airport to catch the 9:00 pm flight back to Los Angeles. This was the Myracles’ third adoption in very few years, and their newest son is named Ben and talk about your contagious laughter, what an adorable kid. Their other children are simply gorgeous too, but this little Ben is certainly a sweet, sweet child, and the fact that he toddled over to me, motioned to be picked up and planted a big wet one on me in the Guangzhou airport has no influence on my opinion of him at all. In a few minutes, Ben liked me a ton more than Nora did/does. I just have to say that the Myracles were like a well-oiled machine, all eight of them passing treats, wipes, juice boxes, diapers, like an Olympic relay team. I want to be the Myracle family when I grow up.

The flight was long, but I know I got some sleep because it seemed like we were over the Bering Strait in a thrice. YuYu slept like a bump and Nora, not so good, but still more than not. When the drink cart came out shortly after take-off, I was all xiao xing (careful), bu yao pun (don’t touch) to Nora with an open cup and then I proceeded to dump her juice all over my lap and down my leg and I finally snapped. Two weeks of living out of suitcases and a child who didn’t like me came down on me hard and I just cried over spilled juice. YuYu was stunned, I know she’s never seen me cry and all I could say was I’m okay, I’m just tired. (Last night I must have said something about being tired and YuYu said, “Mom, you better go to bed before you cry,” so my breakdown had a lasting impression on my sweet girl.)

There were only four adoptive families (only one baby, going home to Roy, Utah, the rest were a little older) on that flight, talk about unusual, so we flew through immigration and when we popped out of customs, we were met by Kim Ma and her 5yo Alex and fresh off the plane 1yo Sydney. Kim and I were in a big group when she adopted Alex and I adopted Mimi in 2001. Kim drove down from Simi Valley for just a few minutes to chat and catch up and I so appreciate her effort. Her Alex is slightly younger than Mimi, but good heck, what a tall tall lovely child. I know she would tower over Mimi, because she towered over YuYu. What a treat to hold little Sydney, such a healthy beautiful baby. Congratulations Kim, you have a wonderful family.

Notice how I conveniently omitted photos from LAX that include me? The power of the blog.

Our flight was a full hour early, so it was great to have the time to chat with Kim before the wonderful and talented Suzanne DeCuir came flying in to scoop us up and take us to her home that is located conveniently near LAX, but there’s no way you would ever know it, such a quiet, great neighborhood. Suzanne brought her mandarin speaking friend Macy with her to help with Nora and that really really was a big help. We got to her house where we found Anna (Ellie’s orphanage buddy), Ellen, same age as Mimi and we traveled two weeks apart in 2001, but Ellen is from Chengdu, Sichuan and Mimi is from Fuling, Sichuan, and the adorable Qing Qing, 2.5, from Fujian (I could be way off on that). The last time we saw the Moody-DeCuirs was at breakfast in LA in November 2004 when we flew back with YuYu and Qing Qing was new to their family too. All the girls fell to playing and I fell on the wonderful Thai food Suzanne knows how to order. Then Patrick got home from work and it was great to see him and he ate a late dinner and we had a good visit. They gave us the master bedroom, but all I did was go in and turn out the lights, never got close to the actual bed. YuYu played all night long with the Moody girls’ toys and Nora had a 1.5 hour nap around 1:00 a.m. We disrupted their entire family routine just to sit in their front room and play with their toys until 5:00 am when we left for the airport. Thank you again Patrick and Suzanne for your home away from home for a night.

I’m glad I had snapped the day before over spilled juice, because those of you who saw my shameful display at the immigration counter in 2001 know I can get ugly during my end of trip snaps. If I hadn’t snapped earlier, I might have unleashed two weeks of ugly combined with good coffee deprivation on the s.o.b. who wouldn’t give me his aisle seat (we ticketed late and all of LA was dumping into Park City for Sundance that morning and our seats were split). I had a bag of McDonalds and I said, fine, you feed them breakfast and that one doesn’t speak English, but he would not budge. When the aisle seat in the row behind got off her cell, I asked if she would mind taking the middle seat so stretch (I did not say stretch, but good hell, he was all of 5’6” on a 1.5 hour flight, how important is that aisle seat) could maintain his seating status and she very graciously agreed. The kids became comatose in minutes (it was 8:30 pm China time). We landed in SLC and it was really hard to wake YuYu and we rode the moving sidewalks to the luggage area with YuYu weeping big juicy tears and Nora with wild child of Borneo hair and if those creative types from Sundance didn’t see a movie in that little vignette, then they need to find a new profession.

Grandma stayed with us Thursday evening and Nora and YuYu slept a little. Nora only wanted Grandma and sure she’s great, I like her too, but hey, Nora had only just met her and I’d been trying to get her to like me for two weeks. When Grandpa came to get Grandma on Friday evening, Nora laid by the front door and sobbed for 10 minutes until distracted by Ellie. I put her in bed withme at 10:00 pm and she sobbed herself to sleep, Wai Po, Wai Po, Wai Po (maternal Grandma in Chinese and I know it meant her new Grandma, she didn’t have a foster grandma, she had a foster grandpa). Ellie was at a slumber party (they had postponed it two weeks to make sure Ellie could be there, so I HAD to take her), but called at 11:00 pm to say she was fine (the other girls were calling their parents, I wish the party mom hadn't allowed that). That woke Xiao Ye up from her nap and she cried, cried, cried, cried, cried for the next five hours. But she went from crying as far away from me as possible to letting me hold her hands, to letting me hold her, but swear to God, she never stopped crying, tears and everything for five hours. I was impressed, exhausted but impressed. At 4:00 am, Mimi was whining (too lazy to get up to pee), so I went and helped her and remembered the Benadryl and dosed Xiao Ye and the next thing I knew it was 8:00 am and I had slept, really slept for 4 hours. Xiao Ye woke up happy enough, no more crying, she let me touch her and help her get dressed and that's a big change. She made it until 6:00 pm on Saturday before she crashed, 6:30 on Sunday and almost 7:30 tonight. Her clock is almost reset. She loves loves loves playing with her new sisters and she has a cute way of touching the top of her head and asking “wo de?” mine? When given something new to hold or play with. She loves loves blue jeans and insists on sleeping in them. What the heck, why not?

I took the kids to school this morning and then took Mimi to drop her off at Montessori. Nora sat right down in the calendar circle with Mimi and it took several attempts to get her to go with me. My Mom was supposed to watch her this week, but with my grandma’s imminent demise, Mom was in Logan where she needed to be and I took Nora to the office with me. Within 15 minutes she was crying for Mimi. I asked a Chinese speaking friend who works in my building to explain that I could take her to Mimi but that I could not stay. She brightened right up. I took her back to Montessori at 10:30 am and she was absolutely happy (but loud, not the Montessori way, but she’ll learn, I hope) until 3:30 pm, the kid does pre-school like a pro. Thank you Half the Sky Foundation.

And you know, she is a great kid. Sure, she doesn’t like me all that very much yet, but she did yell Ma MA when I got her attention in the play yard this afternoon and ran off to play some more, but she seemed happy to see me. She has no idea what a mother is good for, how to use me to her best advantage, but she will catch on. She is a tease and is funny and plays rough, so what a nice spice to add to the Hanson girl line-up; Ellie the calm and adaptable, YuYu the tender-heart, still waters running deep, Mimi, the odd-ball, goofy princess, and Nora Xiao Ye, the exuberant scamp. There will actually have to be some conscious effort on my part to promote bonding and attachment, but I can do that. I am glad for the opportunity to be her parent and I hope to do the role justice.

I have camera fatigue, so there’s no at home photos yet, I’ll update in a few days when I can get some good kids pics.

Best Wishes for a Strong Net

Okay, I'm trying hard here to gather my thoughts and observations about Xiao Ye dze (not sure how to spell that last sound, but it’s a diminuitive, like Margarita or Pepito in Spanish) and that's what I've been calling her, emphasis on Ye, Shou YEH dze. In my mind I'm picturing the Disney animated version of Pecos Bill trying to lasso the whirlwind. She's a beautiful child, but she swears like a sailor. She curses out strangers, you should die, you're a pig, etc. (Connie caught her telling a man passing on the sidewalk this evening that he should die, I wondered why he looked at her so sharply). On the other hand, she saved the last bite of White Swan Deli bun for YuYu on the bus today. Everything she touches is "wo de" or mine, but she is consistent about turn taking and hands the room key to YuYu if I make a mistake and it isn't her turn yet. She wants me to buy everything she touches, but if I say no, she puts it back and moves on. She started to stamp her feet and was almost beginning a temper tantrum because I picked up stray coins she had gathered at a temple but left on a bench (you throw the coins in a big, tall iron thing for good luck) and gave half to YuYu. I got them back from YuYu explaining that I couldn't tell Xiao Ye why I divided them. I put them all in Xiao Ye's hand and she calmed right down and instantly gave all the coins right back to YuYu.

She has never known behavioral boundaries and I want to choke the sob who taught her how to swear. News flash sob, it's not cute on a four year old. But it’s been 9 days now and I can correct her when she makes a bad choice and she doesn't mope or sulk or run away from me. She doesn't necessarily prefer me to other people yet, she chose Lisa Seppi's lap after dinner tonight, but at least she will sit in my lap now and today after breakfast, she sat there for a long nice time. She held my hand all the way to and from dinner and that’s a really big change from last week. She consistently yells for Ma MA when she wants my attention instead of just grunting like before. But she does still just grunt a lot like when the waiter tried to remove her glass from the table tonight and she didn't want him to. She didn't say no, she just loudly and sharply grunted at him. She is still very very loud, that may take a long time to change. She just yells, a lot. She is very very very outgoing and strikes up conversations with bell boys and shop keepers right and left. She grabs the phone out of my hand to talk to her sisters and grandma that she has never met, but she wants to say hello. I have to beg YuYu to take the phone to talk to her grandma and I know that YuYu adores that woman.

YuYu explained to Grandma that she thought that Grandma would like Xiao Ye, "but it takes time." I think YuYu is right. It isn’t instant love this time, no fire works like I had for my babies or the need I felt to envelope YuYu in warmth because she was so sad. Xiao Ye is a spitfire and she wants things her own way, and you know, you’ve got to love that in a kid. Tonight, after several attempts, she allowed me a good night kiss when I put them to bed, so I think I’m growing on her. I know she will grow on me, I just wish I could see the net a little more clearly as I fall into this strange realm of mothering a child who doesn’t want it yet and kind of really resents the restrictions it imposes on her previous orphan about town lifestyle.


Tomorrow we hit the consulate in the afternoon and off to the airport right after. This will be my last post from China. I’ll try hard to update after we’ve been home a few days, but no guarantees on timeliness.

Oh Chinese kids aren’t making the peace sign; the fingers in a “v” symbolize the upturned corners of a smiling mouth. The “v” is the equivalent of saying “cheese.”