Chatting It Up With The Agency Folks

My agency called last night. It was not a call about our adoption, I truly did not expect a call about the baby but I admit to being a little off guard when I saw the caller id. Apparently they wanted to link up information about Chinese Culture Camp this summer to their web site. Oh, fabulous...the extra linkage might bring in a few more able bodies to camp. Great. Then she asked if she could use my name as a contact name.

Nope sorry, not the main volunteer gal this summer. I'm happy to direct you to the right volunteer brigade but me, no no. I'm getting my baby in the next batch right? Way too busy with the newest bambina to be dishing about Chinese fan dancing for 7 year olds right? I'll be freaking out adapting to mid-western time in August right? I'll be ferberizing a child late this summer right? I'll be immensely busy dressing her in obnoxious lady bug outfits by September, right?

Want to know what she said? Probably not, I'm telling you anyway.

"Well, yes I do see here by your paperwork that you are LID June 16th. And, while we do hope to be calling you late in June or early July (early July? Hasn't she followed the last six months of trends where referrals are announced late month...) we just don't know for sure." But it all looks promising, but no guarantees. Yes, I do hope we can call you with a referral, ugh ugh ugh."

Stop.

What? Hello, breathe out loud sweet agency chickie. This is my second time around the high school track ok? The CCAA has processed up to and including June 15th, Muffin Man and I jumped through every hoop and landed in the garden of communist eden on June 16th. Unless they process 10 minutes into the 16th and we are 20 minutes into the 16th we are getting a referral next month. Capiche? I'm thinking that this is shall we say a "sure thing"? Since we've been sitting over there in Beijing for 1 year and are at the very top of the stack, how could we not be referred the one and only best child for us the second time around? Sweet, eager to sleep but yet to be officially named, cutest higher than average IQ makes her own clothes baby of the year is merely a formality at this point. Might I add she and I are communicating telepathically and will be united in bodily form in a matter of 8-9 short weeks. RIGHT?

Apparently my agency is handing out no guarantees.

I think that this gal was taking her "tell that client nothing" training to heart. Or perhaps she had to deal with the 67th family jumping on the stow-away to Vietnam or North Korea ship this week. Perhaps she was tired....of dealing with folks like me.

Ok, but my money's still on June. And, I don't want to hear from the folks that remember my money back in the March pool either. Once again. Pick up a stack and match it for heaven's sake.

And, for the record I want a newer pollyanna'esque China coordinator. I want a little sunshine blown up my butt. I've waited long enough for sunshine. Speaking of which more pool pictures soon.

Well, it was a hot one

It was a Memorial Day filled with fun in the sun here at the old homestead. Ava was busy alternating between a new (for us) neighborhood pool and the whale. She is pictured here in the whale. She is riding the tail, while the whale spits sprinkly water over the driveway.

Ah, fun in the sun. This is where we'll be all summer.

Still a Wall Flower

The CCAA has finished the review of the adoption application documents registered with our office before September 30, 2005.
The CCAA has finished the placement of children for the families whose adoption application documents were registered with our office before June 15, 2005.

As luck or the evil powers that be would have it our paperwork landed in Beijing June 16th, 2005. Yes, we missed the big dance yet again. We are destined to sit in the bleachers sneaking spiked punch and picking cocktail weenies out of our teeth one more month.

I decided this morning after hearing the news that instead of driving by this place and simply throwing wads of cash at the front door like usual, I would stop off and enjoy the smell of fresh mulch. Apparently our contractor thought we might want to re-use the corroded old door handle on one of the new doors in the addition. Aucontraire, mon fraire.


See the new addition? Nifty eh?

No no, old corroded door handles simply will not do for the playroom addition that cannot get too precious. (If I can't bring home a precious baby, well then bricks and mortar will have to do even though they won't fit nicely in the baby bjorn.)

Besides, in for a penny in for a pound with this project. Although, it's more like in for a penny in for a crispy new Andrew Jackson. But who is counting? Really, who is counting? I've lost track and can't count that high.

Serious retail damage will only do in times like these. We are now the proud new owners of Venetian Bronze levered door handles with matching dead bolts (sold seperately of course) for the two doors. No high shine brass for this family of cul-de-sac'ers no sir, hand rubbed venetian bronze. Don't be fooled, venetian means made in China these days. This is ironic because it is the only thing I will be getting from China this week.



Oh, the picture hardly does this little beauty justice. You will have to stop on by next week when they are installed. Maybe I will take my picture next to them, drooling. I love them that much.

In conclusion to today's post I must question will Ava ever get the chubby cheeked wrinkly armpitted little sister of her dreams? Will her mother ever find Pottery Barnesque Venetian Bronzed drapery rods to match the new levered doors but at a discount?

Stay tuned. More later.

Laundry...same girl, old tricks

In April 2003 there lived a little kid who liked to take a ride in the laundry basket now and again.

She thought she'd invent a game. It went like this. Mommy would fold. Ava would unfold. It was a race to see who could do their part more quickly.

When Ava would lose, she'd climb into the folded laundry basket and help by stomping it down, her version of permanent press.





Mommy, never one to back down from a challenge, decided to cover the little game player up with folded clothes and pull her around while putting it all away so that the house roof would not pop off stacked too high with laundry.


We won't show this seemingly laundry choked child picture to child protective services.






Now it is May 2006. Same kid, same laundry basket.


Hey, is this thing shrinking?











Nowadays, the laundry basket is an airplane cockpit. Who has time for the old un-fold game?


But she does reserve the right to teach the game to any little sister who might be coming her way.

It's payback for not being fast enough on the un-fold quick draw back in April 2003.

To Keep Me On My Bloggie Toes

I got tired of chartruese green for the bloggy look. What would Freud say about people who love colors like chartruese green? I decided to mess around with the look a bit, since a gal can only take so much bright. Into each life a little neutral must fall now and again.

I picked another boring background and wiped out all settings in the process. Lovely. Come on bloggie spot...give a girl a third warning pleeese.

Why are there no fun lilac, eggplant, or indigo backgrounds? Oh yeah, this is free. Those who do not pay should not complain as much. Really though, I wonder if they have a suggestion box? Maybe they could go to the same place that Microsoft error reports go.

Mother's Day At The Spa, er Chinese School

Yes, it would be nice to be at a spa sitting in warm lavender smelling mud...dreaming of my Queen for the Day pedicure coming up in 30 minutes but alas it was not meant to be. Don't get me wrong, my darling preschool painted petunia flower pot, homemade card with droopy paper flower springing out and delightful new cedar bird house for the backyard have me swimming in gratitude. Today, I'm a lucky woman. I have everything I've ever really wanted.

Reality hit today when I marched my 4 year old off to Chinese School, aka the Sino Pressure Pit. Today's class marked the last day of the school year. One full year for Ava and I in two classrooms; she learned to count to 30 in Mandarin, several songs, a few calligraphy characters, almost every body part, and a smattering of light conversation; me, 8 weeks of perfect pronounciation of each pinyin vowel and consonant followed by 4 weeks of an even lighter smattering of pleasant conversation. Wo jiao Perrin. Wo cong meiguo lai.

Overall, I've been pretty pleased with our classes. Admittedly, I struggle philosophically with Ava's teacher. She is a sweet young gal who married and moved here recently. She is unapologetically teaching the traditional Chinese way. Children sit, children study, big test at end of semester. Funny business is not tolerated. Ava is all about the the funny business, so you can only imagine it hasn't exactly been a match made in heaven between teacher and student. I think Ava has done tremendously well keeping up with the bigger kids in class. I've not pushed her at all to study as her teacher suggests to the parents. When she wants to play naming body parts or counting or singing songs we play. When she doesn't...we don't practice. My reasoning being that I do not want to burn my four year old out on formalized classroom education before Kindergarten starts. Ava surprised me this week by easily rattling off counting 1-30 in perfect Mandarin with tones. I thought for sure her teacher would give her a nod. Again, not meant to be. After test time teacher told me Ava disappointed her, not being able to answer all the questions. I was a little disheartened. I guess my expectation of what a young four year old should be expected to accomplish is different than the traditional Chinese way. In the car I told Ava that she did not have to attend teacher's class again in the fall if she did not choose to, we would try another class. We have the summer to think about trying new options at the school.

What an education this year at Chinese school has been. I've learned how hard some parents push their children in the name of academic success. I 've seen a glimpse at how hard first generation immigrants have to work when they arrive in a new country. I've seen cultural differences and have first hand experience in how hard it is not to judge with my own personal values. I've had moments of wanting to walk away from the school and it's people...too different and not comfortable for me. I've had moments of making new friends and seeing people reach out to a greater Mandarin as a second language community bending to be flexible for our needs. I walk away from this semester wondering how we will fit into the mold next semester.

It's Mother's Day. I wonder what my daughter's Chinese birthmother would think of how my daughter and I spent our day together? Would it mean something to her that we are making an attempt to keep something Chinese in our lives? Or would she feel more "culture is as culture does, don't look back"? Would she be happy with what Ava has learned, like I am? Or would she too want a child to be pushed to be the best, the winner, awarded the prize?

We are thinking of her today since she was and is the first mother. I suppose that is what what really matters, all this other stuff is just life filler.

Might We Get This Show On The Road?

Wow, have you been reading the early rumours? They are seriously pointing to muffin man and I getting a new babe this month. Ava Jing might actually become jie jie. Say it might be true before she changes her mind about carrying a dirty diaper to the pail and thinking that is "cool".

Fine, change my life forever. I'll wait another 3 years before I can watch Katie and Matt again. (Why is she retiring to nightly news?) Good novels can wait for me, I don't need anything but cleaning baby bottles, dirty dishes and endlessly chasing a toddler up and down the driveway in attempts to keep up with neighborly goings on.

More on this to come. I am trying not to freak out about that thing I have been waiting over a year for...spent Ava's higher education money on...and tossed my career into the nearest recycle bin for. I am now ending sentences in prepositions, but who the hell cares...May might be our month.

LETTERS - they are everywhere

Do you remember when you realized you could read letters? Everywhere you looked there were letters...spelling out words. They were everywhere in the car, in books, at the mall, on toys, even on the refridgerator. I remember that moment when it occurred to me that I could read letters and I couldn't stop...even if I wanted to. I even tried to stop maybe in a misguided attempt to stay young and naive. I was in a car traveling with my parents. The back seat of the station wagon was folded down and I was propped up in the back reading road signs. I was conscious of not wanting to read road signs, but I could nonetheless. Hey, why can't I stop when I want to? I asked myself. Perhaps I was about 6 or 7? I'm not very sure to tell you the truth.

It is happening to Ava now. She reads letters everywhere we go. On walks she reads street signs, she reads the letters off the front page of the newspaper, she likes to follow along with each book spelling out each title, she even watches my coffee mug in the morning. I wouldn't really call this reading because she doesn't seem to be able to phonetically sound out many words yet...she's just compulsively seeing and calling out those letters.

Perhaps this is what kids do before they learn to read? Do most little kids get obsessed with letters? And, why if she is so taken with letters can't she seem to get the hang of sounding out a word since she knows the letters and sounds? I've asked her if she wants to learn or practice the phonics and she always says no. So I drop it, real reading at 4 seems slightly precocious right? I'm sure she will learn when she's ready.

Maybe I'm the one who should do a little reading about the signs of early reading. Completely interesting... watching a child's world open up.

The Cosmic Draw Day

Apparently something in the stars aligned yesterday and all of the weird and unstable humans living in my planetary circle were drawn to my doorstep and felt compelled to call my phone number.

At one point I had a lady who arrived unannounced at my doorstep shouting at me telling me my behavior was despicable and unforgivable. (We had a little volunteer gig together, but gees despicable? I've only known her a few months.) I do love that word despicable. Except when it is used in the same sentence with MY name. Wow, I don't think someone has been that mad at me since I was 12 and used a tennis racquet in my foyer to show off my tennis prowess to my brother and took out a Mexican hanging lamp in the process. Or well, come to think of it perhaps Muffin Man has been sort of peeved at me to that extent over the course of our 15 year betrothal...but only once or twice to THAT extent. He's of Irish decent and quick to anger...but quick to forgive and want to discuss dinner plans about 30 seconds after. Back to crazy lady...it was so Seinfeld bizarro that at one point I started to giggle...which in case you might not have guessed did not help the situation. Now I know why the folks who invented Prozac are living in palatial mansions with swimming pools. They deserve it. What happened in the end? She decided that perhaps her involvement with said volunteer gig might not be a good fit? Huh, ya think?

Then a few hours later a lady found my home number and called about sending her precious little ones to Chinese Culture Camp. I have been corresponding with this gal via e-mail giving her specific instructions on how to get the kiddies enrolled, it's not rocket science but apparently somewhat distressing should your IQ be below 25. So, everything she was asking had already been spelled out in English via personal email last week. Now for the average parent enrolling your kid in summer camp is a minor annoyance in life. The piece de resistance of the annoyance being that little part where you have to cut the check. Not for this chick. She was completely and utterly baffled by the fill in the blank process. You know the one where you fill in your name and your child's name and contact information? That was a well spent 20 minutes guiding her through which week to choose to attend camp. Then calculating how much was due...utter confusion and chaos. Dropping off the registration form at her child's school on Sunday? Seemingly impossible and most thought provoking on how to get registration form into the hands of volunteer Chinese Community Center volunteer. At one point I had to ask her if she could find the room directly next to the room where she drops her child each week for school. I attend class in that room and offered to personally help her walk the registration form to the appropriate person, since they might not be identifiable sitting behind the table marked REGISTRATION.

Want to know the ironic part? There is always irony in my life. I looked at the caller id upon taking this cryptic phone call. She was calling me from work ...a very large pharmaceutical company.

I tell you it took every thing I had not to ask her to call psycho angry lady from earlier in my day. Now that is one conversation where I'd pay to be a fly on the wall.

We have windows...raccoon beware

Sure does change the look around her with windows in place. Next week a coat of paint to make it match the rest of the house and the outside will be fetching...for sure.

Now moving west about ten feet to the deck we have a slight problem. A raccoon has been living under the deck for about 8 years, give or take. He happily hibernates under there only to make an appearance when he smells hamburger from the grill. He waits until the grill is closed up and then makes his way over the top of the grill and helps himself to the drippings. (How do we know? Raccoon tracks of course. And we've occasionally seen him belly up in the bird bath sunning himself in the water believe it or not.) Because the Muffin Man is an avid griller our little raccoon is now somewhat ahem, portly. This is not a big deal to us. Quite frankly he can eat until he explodes for all we care. However, with the new construction there will be a step that will close off the entry/exit at the foot of the decking.

Here was my question to our contractor today. Ugh, what if you build the new step and close off the raccoon while he is under the deck? He could get stuck and die. This is no 2 oz. mouse, folks. If this guy goes...it isn't going to be pretty and it might smell for a while too. What should we do? Not worry about little chubs and let him try to claw his way out on the other side by digging ravenously through my azeleas or call an animal trapper to entice him out and then let him free after the decking is closed off. Contractor man says oh no, they don't let them back out. They say they take them to some sanctuary up north but that's probably code for what they really do to them. Ha Ha Ha. Great, I'm thinking. My choices are trapping and risking that he gets the ax from some animal control anti-PETA people or possibly letting him die the slow death..or let's be honest ruin my next back yard bar-b-que.

What would you do? One one hand he has sort of felt like the backyard mascot since we caught him sunning himself in the bird bath a few years ago. On the other hand..he is a raccoon after all and aren't they the most resourceful of resourceful woodland animals? Should I be looking for area rugs for the addition instead?

Term Limits

I'm all for term limits. You see I am 2 1/2 years into a three year stint on my local FCC (Families With Children From China) board. I have even found myself in the lead position this year. I know that the great adoption specialists and internets have some differing opinions on local chapters of FCC. Overall I am a supporter of FCC, well, heck I'm on the board and donate a silly amount of hours to the organization. I don't believe FCC will give my kids exposure to heritage or anything but it does keep families who do have this adoption connection, connected for lack of a better word. And, I can say that through my connections at FCC I have met and befriended several Chinese community families. This is truly what I am grateful for...and we will probably take our membership with the Chinese Community Center more seriously than FCC as time goes by. I have also made dear friends through FCC who have been enormously supportive through our travels with Ava and now the new baby coming.

But back to term limits. As I round out my time on the board I find myself getting more and more frustrated with families and even another board member. Some of these people just don't get the adoption and multiracial family important issues. (Of course, this means my opinion of what is important.) I would say six months ago I was still gung ho with trying to bring families to the Chinese Community Center, nudging them to stretch a little and attend an event where THEY might be in the minority. I would nudge them to sign their kids up for culture camp when not much English would be spoken. I've been an advocate for trying to get the Jean McLeods and Jane Browns of the adoption community here to speak to our FCC community. I always vote that our programming should be education and heritage based rather than just meet at a hotel and have the kids wear their chinese outfits. Now, I know why term limits are a good thing for public service and volunteer board positions...you get tired and then you get pissy. Or, well I have anyway.

I have less and less patience with our members. I am becoming judgemental of some of the families decisions. I am becoming judgmental of a board member's ideas of where we should focus time and energy. This is perhaps why it will be good to get some new faces and ideas and attitudes.

I have learned a lot leaving my well paid business job and trading it in for Mommy in Chief and Volunteer Queen. But perhaps I'm ready to trade in my crown for plain old mommy hair clip.

Tub Time Talk

Ava and I have some pretty intense conversations while she is bathing in our garden tub. She likes to spread out with lots of warm sudsy water, barbasol shaving cream in no less than three colorful stacking cups, a little tub paint in yellow red and green, and paint brushes. She calmly decorates the white walls while I lay back with a pillow and a magazine.

She is most often surprisingly low maintenance in the tub. The warm water seems to pleasantly lull her normal boisterous busy way. Of course, I do everything I can to encourage this quiet time. She has always been a water baby. She was happy from day one to soak in tubs and pools, never afraid of any water. I for one completely understand the effects of hydrotherapy, as I too have always been drawn to the magical ways of warm water.

She had been quiet for a while the other night when she started calmly telling me this story.

"Mom, did you know about this guy named Jesus?" Well, I suppose I have heard some stories, I told her. (Her recent preschool biblical stories have been challenging me lately. I would rather focus on spirituality as a whole and what it can mean for daily life and how we can approach life's challenges and journeys rather than organized religion. But I'm finding universal thoughts, simple laws of quantum physics involving space and time with regards to what appears to our eyes to be real vs. universal truth, and God as love to be diffucult concepts to share with a 4 year old, as she questions me about where EXACTLY God is. It seems admittedly easier to have a children's book laying it all out there in full color.)

She goes on to tell me her story nonetheless.

See there was this guy Jesus and there were some people who did not like him. One guy Spartacus really was mad at him. And Spartacus took Jesus to a bridge and killed him. That wasn't very nice was it? And Jesus ended up where Benny's dog, Joe ended up, in heaven. (Benny is our neighbor and his dog Joe passed away a year ago. Ben's mom told Ava and Ben one day that Joe went to heaven.)

I stopped the conversation to ask her if she might have Spartacus mixed up with a guy named Pontious and might the bridge have really been a cross? "Oh yeah, maybe you are right Mom. she said, but I still don't really know EXACTLY where heaven is." "This is important, because if Bailey (our aging dog) goes to heaven then I might need to be able to talk to her and God."

At this point trying to go back to my magazine seemed pointless. Determined to give her something more than what is in the preschool primer I tell her that she can talk to God any time she wants by becoming still and quiet. All she has to do is lay back in the tub, close her eyes and talk away. Then remain still and quiet and God will talk back.

Sort of to my surprise, she did it. She quietly laid back and arose a few minutes later. "Hey, you are right Mom it works. I did talk and I did see God. Maybe I should tell Ben so he can check up on Joe." "Uh huh baby," is all I could muster.

Next week perhaps she'll ask about the vocabulary word proselitize, until then I'm sure Ben's parents might want to tackle this one themselves.

This Brought To You By General Contracting Today

Our normally scheduled programming of whining till the cows come home about the whereabouts of our second daughter currently living somewhere in China has been interrupted by general contacting fun. I apologize since I'm pretty sure no one truly cares about roofing shingles and the exact placement of cable wires and light switches.

However, it is big news here over on the cul-de-sac. Just ask the neighbor children. Apparently I've been paying decent money to entertain several children with bulldozers, wet mud, loud nail guns, and mushy cement for the last 4 weeks. I'd go door to door and charge the nominal fee as payback but I've heard that there are a few mothers of napping babies that might hunt me down in in gang land fashion to whip me for employing noise makers during the 1pm nap time hour. I'm keeping a low profile to avoid civil unrest...and to protect me from the most vicious of all human creatures, the tired mothers of un-napped children.

So, as I breathe quietly here behind the picket fence I'm watching this....
















And this....


Riveting, I'm sure if you will not be the ones cozying up to that future built-in window bench to watch the cardinals chase the robins through the window.

Oh yes, I almost forgot one more thing. How could I forget it as it aged me about 10 years? I took Ava to a large public park this afternoon by myself since the Muffin Man is off once again trying to earn buckets of cash to pay for my little "let's add a playroom" idea. I admittedly let my guard down for 1 minute and started chatting it up with another China adoptive mom. She had an 11 month old and I was simply smitten. I looked up from my baby haze and Ava was gone. I circled the play area three times. Running faster each time. No Ava. My heart started beating fast, really fast. I was scanning the crowd for weird looking men. (Stereotype I know but I was panicking.) I was now running in circles trying to remember what she was wearing, I could not. I was screaming Ava Ava Ava after the third circle. The other mothers and fathers stood still not knowing what the hell this crazy lady was screeching about. I saw another play area off in the distance but never once thought she would stray that far, she is only 4 and this play area was clearly a few minutes run from where we were. Scurrying from swings to large slide I made my way screaming for her. I'll be damned if that little kid wasn't happy as pie making a new friend at the top of a 2 story clubhouse slide. I swear I did not know whether to kiss her uncontrollably or yell at her for wandering off. I gained composure, and did a little of both. I felt like a complete idiot. Slacker mom for sure.

We had a long talk about being able to see Mommy at all times in public, running off is bad. It will put her mother in the crazy house. We took a big chill and made our way home. Now I am letting her walk the new roofing shingles on the addition....just to keep things interesting. Later we are going to play with matches.

The Walls, What Amazon Thinks I Should Read, and Flamingos

Today's update in the ever inspiring saga that is our lives contains a lively melange of goodies.

First, The Wall. No Pink Floyd did not miraculously visit the cul-de-sac. No eyebrows were inadvertently shaved. Thank goodness, especially after the scissors meet the pigtail debacle of January 2006. One pigtail is all this momma could honestly sacrifice this quarter.



Look, walls. Real walls. Or the beginnings of walls anyway. I pulled out a tape measure and started planning where furniture will go. But since the budget is a little tight...and we will be robbing Peter to pay Paul in the furnish the new play room department I had to put away the tape measure. Nonetheless, I am not discouraged. Quite the contrary really. Real walls people!




Second, What Amazon Thinks I Should Read. I got this in my email box today from the wise old sages at Amazon.com.

Store-Bought BabySandra Belton
Price:

$10.39
You Save:

$5.60(35%)
Release Date: (May 9, 2006)

Yes, apparently they think that based on my previous buying experience I would appreciate having a book called Store Bought Baby in my personal library. Again with the irony. I think that I will simply make a conscious choice to let this one go and not send hate mail to Amazon flunkies. Although, then again if I were in the right mood this could be highly entertaining for me for at least 30 minutes.

Third. Flamingos. I am obsessed with them. I saw them at the zoo last week and found some material in hot pink and black and haven't been able to stop myself for sewing them up. Here are the first two of 5 handbags. I swear I am not usually terribly preppy or girlie girl ( I own an embarassing number of Birkenstocks) but when you find a flamingo that agrees with you...you gotta go with the flow.






Aren't they the bees knees?









And finally...Ava Jing is completely and utterly bored with all the excitement that surrounds our little corner of the world. She is not embarassed to show it either.





Now, how's that for a "cutest kid in the world shot" for a peace out?

I know that I am not exactly fairly and equitably unbaised...but that's a cute kid. Come on.

Friday Goods

There is not one thing happening on the adoption front. Unless you count this impulse purchase at Target. Actually, it wasn't exactly that. Mine are better. They are green with a red lady bug on each foot. Just couldn't find the picture on the target online site...but you get the drift.

So, what's a girl to do?

1. Shamelessly watch a bunch of workmen in my backyard from a cushy chair sipping lemonade. I had that oh wow, this is truly obnoxious watching them work their little buns off laying my new stamped concrete patio while I sit on my ass too lazy to even push my daughter in the swing.* So, I remedied that situation by offering them some lemonade and chips. (Previously snacked upon bag of chips but it was the thought that counts right?)

2. Dye Easter eggs with my babe. 2a. Read preschool handout about families who do not explain the true meaning of Easter to their children choosing instead to focus on the secular Easter Bunny and accompanying Easter mania that involves fun basket of goodies. ( I suppose that you might be able to guess their opinion of these heathen folks.) 2b. Throw away handout and head out towards Target for super fun albeit secular Easter basket stuff!

3. Let creative juices flow and sit down at sewing machine to create these fun handbags. I don't even know exactly what I am going to do with them yet. But a 50% off sale at the fabric store is nothing to sneeze off. I have fabulous pink flamingo fabric complete with obnoxiously cute pink trim for next week. More pictures to come.



Peace in the season folks....
Signing off...I have about 600 jelly beans to eat.


*Not a picture of my backyard but the concrete patio is very similar to our new area. Actual photos to follow next week.

Unplugged

It's Spring Break time over here at Twoladybugs. Wouldn't I just love to tell you that we are basking in the glorious sun of Cabo San Lucas, or the sandy beaches of Emerald Isle, NC, or St. Thomas USVI? Instead we are bidding everyone a big hello from the rather chilly sometimes gray skied Motown. Yes, Southeastern Michigan...Detroit folks.For all that Detroit lacks in the sun, sand and beach department it gains in the Grandpa Grandma department. And when you are 4 it is all about who is willing to succumb to preschool charming pleas of "play with me Grandpa, I spy with my little eye something gold." My poor father has certainly earned his racing stripes with most hours played with wickedly cunning and cute pleas for 24 x 7 attention.

So that is what my Ava has been up to. Me? I thought I'd be keeping up in blogland and yahoo group rumorville for impending adoption of Ava's sweet tempered mei mei. (See, I am sort of counting on a laid back sweet huggy bear baby...stay tuned for a reality check.) Alas, best laid plans have been foiled...as Grandma had to use HER computer for the better part of the week for HER business venture. Oh, the nerve leaving me unnplugged. So I admit the first two days feeling a little twitchy at 3pm in the afternoons not being able to get my internet fix. I contemplated starting a consulting firm for adoptive parents addicted to blogging and those ridiculous but candy to the diabetic yahoo groups in my spare time.

Then, a strange thing happened. I went with my brother, dad, and daughter to the park. And to the fancy schmancy mall. I watched ladies in crocodile 4 inch heels wabble around that hoity toity mall, now that's entertainment. I witnessed my always in control but newly retired father spontaneously purchase a pair of Keen walking shoes just for fun! He told my brother and I a few times that he had not planned on buying shoes that day, ahhh a stretch of the human spirit. I ate at a new Italian bistro for lunch. We visited a children's museum in Ann Arbor. I focused on all the children my child was making friends with at the park. I studied the children playing before me. I saw my child completely outsmart a child 2 years her senior at a game of tag by using her mind rather than her much shorter legs to outrun the competition.

Why am I mentioning all the mundane things we experienced on spring break? Because they were unplugged...and simple, and filled with how life is at this moment. Pure unadulterated life in the NOW. In my unplugged status, I've been happy. And can I tell you I haven't even had a Matt and Katie Couric fix with coffee and hazelnut creamer in almost 1 week? It's serious justification for time with the internets this coming week.

Stunning News From The 'Burbs

We arose to a clatter this morning. You'd have thought it might be Christmas the way my little kid bounded down the stairs after hearing the tree removal service truck roll up into the cul-de-sac. I suspect that the poor guys who were here to remove the trees in preparation for delayed adoption distraction 2006, I mean playroom addition, were not expecting to perform their duties under the watchful eye of my four year old.







Breakfast with the tree climbing dudes. She voted it was better than the Doodlebops...that's a compliment.






Yes, stunningly interesting right? What did you expect when you opened a blog with the title Stunning News From The Burbs?


Tie a yellow ribbon around an old Ash tree and pull that puppy down. Let in the light, the light in my kitchen to be exact. I am feeling a little tree killing guilt, ok not enough stop the carnage but perhaps in a few weeks our family can plant a few new saplings in strategically placed beds away from the house. I'm sure my very republican Main Muffin Man will be hopping on my Earth Day excursion wagon (complete with tie dye and peace signs) with Ava in tow to the local nursery while I say a silent healing prayer for what is now sawdust hoping to be mulch if it's lucky. Jury is out on that one.

In other suburban news tomorrow is the Bunny Buffet at preschool. What is a Bunny Buffet? I honestly have no idea, and I was fine with that. My kid on the other hand was all about the Bunny Buffet trying to explain that she gets to bring some food, put in on a table and all the other little preschool bunnies must try it. Great, I'm thinking perhaps I will send these when I get the notice in the backpack. Apparently the Lutherns once again had other plans.

As I was dropping Ava off at school yesterday her teacher starts apologizing about the short notice but here is my sheet explaining what I am being asked to bring to the Bunny Buffet. I look down. Ava's Mom: Eggs, Deviled. 2 dozen. I look at Ava's sweeter than pie teacher and grin sheepishly, you want ME to make deviled eggs? By Thursday?
She says, "Well, yes you can make them right? I mean you have made them in the past right? You do know what they are?"

I snap back, "Ugh, of course I know what they are. It's just that...so what do you put in the middles after you boil them?" Embarassed, I catch myself. "Ugh, I'll go look it up at home."

I can be extremely inadequate in the domestic realm at times. Secretly, sometimes I sort of like the idea of rebelling just a tad when I feel myself sliding down the slippery slope to being just a little too June Cleaverish. See, if I suck at cooking and don't really give a rats ass about serving my child oranges and tricuits for lunch in my bed then surely that makes me a modern woman! (With a bed perpetually filled with crumbs...but that's another story.) Making deviled eggs for preschool bunny buffets was just not part of my master plan, when I decided to be the smartest woman, hottest wife and best mom evahh.

So, I know you're on the edge of that seat. Did she make the stupid eggs or what?

And it only took me 2 hours. I knew deviled eggs would be hard. Next year I call bringing the peeps.

No Soup For You

Ahhh, it's been a wee bit of a let down here at Adoptive Baby Watch 2006 central today. Perhaps I'm a little bummed that my darling brother has left for the weekend, he was a nice baby distraction, wonderful company this weekend and all around good guy to have around the house.

Ava decided to color her name on a kitchen chair this morning with pink marker. That should have been enough to cure the "all I want is another one" blues. And it did for 20 minutes...I'm gonna kill her...oh, doesn't every kid do this at one point?...I'm gonna kill her since she is unrepentant...oh, perhaps she's just testing her limits, she's four, I'm gonna kill her...no I'm not, I want to give her a sister. Sniff sniff.

Am I experiencing a wee bit of pre-adoption blues? I fluctuate between wanting a baby so badly I can taste it to don't I have my hands quite full with my rambunctious sometimes cat-like 4 year-old? She can wander through whole days doing her own thing, purposely defying my every wish. She will sometimes defy me in public to the tune of running aimlessly through store aisles and I skreech at her under my breath, stay with me...make sure you can see me, you scare me with that behavior when you run away. But then, she will close the day by looking up at me gently stroking my lips saying, "Pretty Mommy, you are simply the best. I love you." And my heart melts, it aches as I hold her. I have never smelled anything so sweet as her silky head. The rough patch of skin on her cheek makes me want to gather take my tired glum body from the couch to get lotion to try to smooth it out. I've never experienced such a rollercoaster of love and frustration. For her, my first. And also for the baby that waits us to come pick her up. I wonder if I will live to breathe in the way her head smells. Will I get to twirl her hair around my finger while watching tv? Will she be even more independent than my first? Could I take it if she were? Will she be the cuddly child who fits perfectly into my lap and chest? Will I choose to let the wait torment my soul, longing for a due date another month? Maybe two?

Only time will tell...right?

Cause and Effect

I think it is because I posted this on my refridgerator...that I am now hearing all about how the CCAA in Beijing has worked a whole month to process 5 or perhaps a whopping 6 days of paperwork referrals. Since our paperwork is 22 days out from the last day processed it might mean I will have to once again return these...which will of course break my heart in two distinct places since they have little hats that match...



and trade them for something a little more wooly, as in if the
powers that be continue to process in 5 day increments that would push my girls out to being about 6 years apart in age rather than the planned upon 3 to 3 1/2 years apart. And certainly Muffin Man and I will be climbing the Great Wall in the deepest darkest days of winter rather than sunny spring. Which is all really weird because when we started this process in February 2005 we were planning on traveling with mittens and parkas.

Excuse me while I go eat this.

That took about 2 seconds and I am no closer to seeing one little adorable child that is destined to steal my car keys and go joy riding with some long haired disrespectful boyfriend in the distant future. Oh for the love of God, bring on my darling little heathen.

And, if no one is going to send me a referral in the next 3 months I need to know because I plan on spending some serious money that I don't have on a margharita swilling sunburn inducing week away from my home town!

I simply cannot take this "bun in the oven" is getting overdone feeling any longer.

Muffin Man just called from some up north state where he is busy selling studly tools to men who wear flannel and nylon baseball caps without breaking in the rims. I broke the 98% chance of no referral for us next week. You know what he said? "I wasn't expecting a baby next week." This is proof that men are indeed from venus, because even the barrista at Starbucks is expecting our referral next week. Now I have to go break the news to her too, fabulous!

By the way I'd also like to share that my next door neighbor has been able to produce no less than 6 kids in the time that I have been successful with 1 and the thought of 1. Those are wicked odds. Maybe I'll go buy a powerball ticket. After I take that stupid referral call guide off my refridgerator of course.

Happy First Day of Spring!

Look what we woke up to this morning. Had to post the pics using Hello Picasa, since blogger was feeling a little frosty and uncooperative. Scroll down to see the Winter Wonderland on this first day of Spring.