Martin Luther King and a Birthday Meltdown

Ava shared her birthday this year with Martin Luther King Day. Which was a stroke of luck in that she could celebrate her day in style with LBF (little best friend) while at the movies rather than taking a timed multiplication test within the confines of Near The Cul-De-Sac Elementary.

The next day at school the children were given a piece of paper in which they were instructed to write their big dream, similar to Martin's famed "I have a dream...."

Ava promptly wrote that her dream was that the Chinese government would change their one child policy so that children like her could stay in China with their real parents.

Ouch, real parents. Me of all people know that the word "real" in the adoption community is, well, emotionally packed with less than positive innuendo. But, as the mother of an 8 year old I also know that political correctness is not necessarily first and foremost. I know what she meant. I know I am a real mom. I've cleaned barf up at 3am, I've endured countless Hannah Montana songs. Ava's birth mother, whoever she is, is also a real mother as my friend had to delicately remind me at lunch last week. Ava's right, in a perfect world she would have been born to parents who were willing and able to lovingly care for a baby girl newborn. She would have been raised in her hometown, schooled with kids in China, been given the chance to make a life for herself amongst her people. But she wasn't, and she's beginning to process the consequences of her being left by someone at a government office. I can't say that I blame her for being a bit pissed.

She says she just wants to know what her birth family looks like. She wants to know if the one child policy enforced by the government of her home country had anything to do with why she was left. I can't give her any of this. I can give her any doll she wants, any computer game, a warm bed, good schools, my love, and all the hot chocolate she absolutely seems to crave. But, I can't grant her that one wish. This my friends, really stings.

And now we have one of those moments I always knew would come when we decided to adopt. It is one of those" yea, we are adopting" and someone says "oh, how wonderful for you, and have you thought about what will happen when the child questions where she came from and experiences loss and grief"? And since I'd read the memo I astutely responded that we had so much to give a child and we will cross that bridge when we come to it. We will just love her enough to get through any issue that ever comes up. And, love conquers all right? I'm not so sure anymore. It isn't one of those snappy response issues. I'm not sure there is a right answer. It hangs over us with some days seeming to be more clear and sunny than others but we always have that one cloud.

It's now been several days since we had our conversation. She's grieved a bit. I've grieved a bit and now we are rebounding. She is at this moment in her room with her sister belting out Taylor Swift tunes at the top of her lungs laughing hysterically.

At one point I think I really did believe back in 2002 that getting that beautiful baby in my arms would in some way be reaching a destination. I now know is probably isn't true. Seven and a half years later we are simply starting a journey.

New In The Studio

Dog Collars. A couple of months ago I was asked to make some dog collars and leashes for Ceramic Dreams, the delightful shop at 54th and Monon Shops, for you local Indianapolis folks. Tanya, the owner of the shop mentioned they might sell well since the shop is located so close to the amazing Monon walking trail here in the city. The Monon Trail can always be found buzzing with walkers, bikers and dog lovers out for a stroll. Now, I have a special spot in my Puggle Mama heart for Chloe, but it never occurred to me what fun it would be to make her fun collars.

Now that I have ordered the hardware to make sure the collars are durable as well as too darn cute for Valentine's Day. I'm hooked. And, Chloe is hooked up! Maybe Chloe will have a new one for each season. She will have to share her February heart themed collar with a Chinese New Year one and in March, she might become wholly Irish.

Because there was just a little bit of fabric left over from the collars, the rest quickly turned into delightful little Valentine's key fobs. Way less calories than that box of chocolate you were thinking about purchasing. Can you tell I've been hitting the gym recently again?

Here is my Puggle model. She takes the job very seriously. There was a milk bone in it for her after all.

And, no I have no idea what that schmegma that is smeared on her little name and phone number tag. Probably something she got into raiding the bathroom waste can. Not cool, Chlo.

Go Colts

In case you were wondering who we will be cheering on to win the Super Bowl.

Chloe said inquiring minds wanted to know.

$.50 worth of blue fleece doggie couture provided by Pink Evita.

It was a big hit with the football fans at the party, what can I say?

A Ridiculous Martyr I Tell You

Ava is a Brownie. She's a card carrying member of two troops if truth be told. There is the local troop and a city wide all Chinese adopted troop as well that she hangs with now and again. Me? I was never a scout, unless you count that unfortunate 6 months I spent with the Camp Fire Girls somewhere around 1978. I admit to not being terribly gung-ho when people I meet share with me the inordinate pleasures of sleeping with nature, which you know means a significant lack of toilet paper for 3 days. I myself, have always preferred the Hyatt to tents, and have a special disdain for anything looking or smelling like a baked bean. So, when Ava expressed serious interest in scouting, I entered cautiously. But, she enjoys it. I mean really enjoys it. She loves her gal pal cronies and relishes in each and every new activity they jump into with reckless abandon.

A few months ago her troop leader thought it would be so fun for the girls to "design their own" Brownie bag for their book and vests with the pleuthera of multi-colored badges. Then I would take their requests and make up 11, yes count them 11 unique bags based on the design whim of each Brownie in the troop.

Have you ever had one of those moments in life where you know this is too much work and you don't really have the time to fill the request bequeathed upon you, but you simply cannot say no out loud? There is all this agreeing and nodding going on, but inside your head is saying "Say no woman, it is ok to say no sometimes. You are a 40 year old woman, SAY NO. It will be good for you to say no." And then you say yes. One week later you find yourself making 11 tote bags for your daughter's Brownie troop. (My mom helped so don't feel too sorry for this sorry martyred sap.)

Well, here they are. And the girls LOVE them...and their sweet parents have even called me to thank me, the Troop leaders have taken me to lunch (completely amazing thank you gift) and I'm not sorry for even one hour I invested in the project. They are simply so darn cute all lined up at meetings on the wall over their coats. A few of the girls like them well enough to ditch their school backpacks in lieu of carrying their new tote. Is this not the highest honor that could be bestowed upon me my an 8 year old?

If you are interested in a similar project for your little scout, which I honestly have no idea why you would be, but heck...you can find this amazingly fun fabric here. Girl scout fabric, made by Robert Kauffman. They have a boy scout line too. You know if your boy scout wants a handbag?


Have you ever been on ebay or ETSY and the seller goes into great detail about how her house is smoke free and pet free and she only uses eco-friendly detergent to wash that fabric you are buying? Yea, that's not us. We don't smoke but as you can see Chloe the Puggle was most interested in the Brownie bags. They were probably delivered with a tiny bit O' fur attached. And yes, that is a hand knit scarf she is wearing courtesy of my 4 year old who begs me to make her scarves while shopping at craft stores only to then turn around and tie them around the dog every damn day.

Kind of looks likes she's saying, "Where's my Brownie bag"?

New Year, New Look...New Simplicity

Ahh, 2010.
New Decade.
New Blog Look.
New combined effort to balance kids, cul-de-sac, puggle time, and the wee business.
New Simplicity. I wonder if this might work for my laundry room?

A fighting chance to blog something of substance. Maybe.

Christmas Cards

Last year I completely dropped the ball as far as Christmas cards were concerned. Nope, I did not send one Christmas card. Sad, I know. But I was fine with the decision after I realized that unless I decided to lick and stamp at about 3am for a few nights, it just wasn't happening . It was sort of well, freeing really. No pressure to select just the right photo of the family or the girls. No rushing out to get them printed. No extra $40.00 in postage alone.

This year I decided I wanted to send the cards. I didn't feel pressured to do it. I simply wanted to do it. And, hello Vistaprint....from the safe and secure chair located in front of my computer, I was able to order lots of Christmas cards while NOT dragging my two children to Costco for printing. That alone was worth the extra $7.00.

My only dilemma....reindeer hats or traditional Christmas coordinating outfits in front of a tree.


















Personally, I'm partial to reindeer balloon hats since it shows their personalities. Their goofy silliness in all it's glory. And, this is what they look like most of the time when we are home. Except for the hitting, pouting and general sanguine behavior we sometimes see when they have had just too much sisterly togetherness.

Then again I did "earn" those matching holiday outfits when I sweated it out in pentagon style negotiations with my 7 year old at The Children's Place. She flitted about tossing red velvet, green polka dots and bolero sweaters at me while acting like Paris Hilton with her paid stylist picking up the trail after her. At the point of my exhaustion I ended the show with a short clip to the back of her arm skreetching at her in my public mom voice...."look, your selection of one and only one outfit needs to come BEFORE the second rising here, dear. And, your sister will get an outfit too, so leave something on the racks." Nice, I know. I did catch another mother out of the corner of my eye laughing at me while skittering away from us...far away. So yes, I earned those outfits and photographic evidence that I survived that trip to the mall with my daughters.

Which one did we select? Did you guess? If you're on our card list this year you should find out in about 4-7 business days. Otherwise, here is a hint. The Vistaprint templates were too small and rigid to accommodate some very large reindeer hats even though they were too darn cute while they lasted. Which for the record was about 20 minutes.

Happy card sending and collecting.

Tree Lighting

Well, not exactly OUR tree lighting but we did attend our fair city's tree lighting downtown last night. It's become a bit of a tradition around here that to kick off the Christmas season we crash our friend's office the night of the big lighting, smoosh cheese crackers into his office carpet, rearrange his employee's picture frames and drink a few too many juice boxes...or glasses of wine from plastic cups if you are of the over 21 set.

Why he and his darling wife keep inviting us, I will never really know. But, we did have a blast as usual. Look at Ava and her gal pal E. They decided on matching holly fairy face painting this year.
Look at the little party goers last year. Despite the nightly bricks on the head trick I've been trying, they seem to be growing nonetheless.

A little note about Miss Liv. She was so pleased with her Holly Fairy face painting she asked numerous times to visit the ladies room to just take one more look in the mirror. "Oh Mommy, I beeeutiful" she said upon seeing herself made-up. Yes Liv, I agree...beeeutiful.

Well, I have thanksgiving decorations to store away in tote boxes, leftover brownies to eat and a tree of my own to think about pulling down from the attic.

Let the holiday festivities begin.

Hello- Is Anybody Out There?

Bless me blogosphere it has been ahem, a while, since my last post. Did you think I left blog land? Even I thought I might have left blogland. Yea, yea everyone's busy. So that excuse it probably mute.

It's been so long that I almost had myself convinced that Ava is too old to blog about (and I need to save the cash for college not therapy sessions) and Livi is too even tempered and cool to embellish any wonderful and gray hair inducing antics and splay them all over the internet. The Muffin Man, yea, well he found out about the blog and got into the habit of reading. You know as well as I do that we can't have that...how can I jovially make fun of the geezer if he reads regularly? Did I mention that he gave up and fell asleep during the bestest Colts game ever on Sunday night and missed the huge win? All after I told him NOT to give up and go to bed, because surely they would come back and win. (This is just a test to see if he is out of the habit of reading) But it was a true story, in case you were wondering for posterity's sake.

Here is what it comes down to...I love splaying our often and somewhat disfunctionalism's. It is often my therapy to write about them, those beings that for whatever reason seem to consistenly circle around my kitchen while wearing mismatched socks, chocolate milk mustaches, and crooked self trimmed bangs.

I'm nearing the end of my WAHM crazy holiday season when I drag myself around town in a 10 year old truck selling handbags and accessories at local art fairs, want to buy a watch? This will surely lead to more bloggy time as I step carefully and slowly away from the sewing room. You know with 17 people coming for Thanksgiving and Christmas to prepare for...I'll have lots of free time.

To tide you over until my next post, I'm promising something in the order of witty banter by 2011, here are a few photos of my ladies. Skipping through life over the last few months...in mismatched socks and hand-me-down high heels.

Aren't they cute?

Oh by the way, we went to California for 5 days, Livi turned 4, Ava was cast in the school play, Liv is now on the 2020 Olympic gymnastics team, the Muffin Man rolled back into his company's parent organization, and I am turning gray and had a good color job. Now you are officially all caught up.

Pool

It is so darn chilly here. What is going on? The middle of August feels like fall. Last weekend it was a precious 90 degree day and we immediately headed off to the pool. And stayed several hours, even though our entire town had the same idea.

Liv didn't mind the crowds at all.



Remember a few weeks ago when I couldn't keep my grubby little mits off the bid again button on ebay?

Look who scored an obscene amount of little pet shop toys.

Poor thing had to start 2nd grade and now Liv is enjoying the fruits of my labor while Ava is off memorizing what 4x6 equals.

The Girls Make Pizza

Friday night we decided to make pizza. Ava seems to be in this strange anti red sauce phase of life right now. I swear the kid would eat anchovies dipped in pickle juice she's that much of a non-picky eater. But for whatever reason she's currently abstaining from spaghetti, pizza sauce, salsa and all other forms of Friday night food groups around here.

The solution...white pizza. I did a quick search for easy white pizza on food network.com and found some great stuff...that I did not have in the pantry. I am not a planner when it comes to meals. I'm more of your meatloaf, clean out the fridge kind of cook.

So when I had to scrap the recipe idea things actually started to look up. The girls were happy to wing it with me and we crushed a bunch of garlic into light sour cream, added fresh oregano and basil. Adding a pinch of pepper made the sauce smell rather yummy. Livi and I started to pull cans of mushrooms, artichoke hearts, and spinach from the shelves.

Oh, and the cheese. We love our cheese. Before you knew it we had a mound of yummy pizza ready to be popped into the oven.

Check out the video where Liv eats an artichoke while placing it on the pizza. This is classic Liv, proclamations of yuck, uh it's horrible...while she goes for another bite.

The girls are finally getting old enough to have a little fun with them in the kitchen. Maybe we will try quesadillas next week.

Broadway, Almost

Here they are, all set and ready to go to their big show. Ava and Olivia participated in a music and show camp this week at the church next door to our house. About 40 kids had 4 days to learn 10 songs, dances that went with the 10 songs and then perform the whole show for a sanctuary filled with adoring family and friends.

Let me just say for the record that the director was fabulous and was so kind and patient with the kids. The show was well, down right good. My kids? Yes, they were absolutely enthralled with the whole experience and still continue to sing those blasted Christian songs of salvation over and over and over.

And yet, I was conflicted throughout the whole week. Yes, leave it to me to be uneasy and over think any situation where people are being extremely kind and generous to my family and pretty much asking nothing in return. And no it is not lost on me that my children were able to participate in a wonderful singing, dancing performing experience for all of $40 for the week. Where else would they get that much experience and entertainment? If it exists here in the metro area in non-liturgical form, I don't know where.

So, then why was I ill at ease at times? Why was I conflicted as to whether this was the best thing to let them attend this camp? The play had an overtly Christian theme but it was at a church for heaven's sake, forgive the pun. There was talk of where do you attend church? Imagine me with a green nose and two heads as I honestly answered that we don't attend a church. And, pray for forgiveness for our worldly sins. The kids are 7 and 3...I just can't get a grip around how much sinning they've really done. Unless you count the candy stealing and hiding of wrappers underneath the bed until bugs start to congregate incident of 2008. I'm not real big into original sin and punishment as redemption if you haven't guessed.

As the pastor opened the show he did so with a nice prayer. Then he even thanked people from other congregations for "sharing their children" so all Christians can come together for worship and song with our children. I know I know, but I couldn't help but think, wait what if we aren't all Christians? What if someone here is Muslim, or Buddhist or dare I say agnostic gah, athiest? What if someone here worships trees? Would we still all be invited?

My inner conflict has nothing to do with this church really, or its people or whether I agree with everything they profess. It is a more deeply rooted issue that I continue to grapple with centered around spiritual community vs. organized religion. Have you noticed that organized religion does community really well? My goodness, we have several churches within a 5 miles radius that boast membership in the thousands. My inner conflict stems from these places having amazing facilities and a sense of belonging for families...but the old "we believe one thing" that's the part that gets me every time.

Ava asked me recently why her friend attends a church and we do not. I told her it's not that we don't permanently or won't. Gees, her Irish Catholic dad went to parochial school until 12th grade. And, my father still attends weekly mass. But at some point in my life I also found value in having God as a presence in my life but also to be a critical thinker. This is what I want for my kids, critical thinking with a bend towards spirituality I suppose. I don't want them judging others. I don't want them going to college thinking they know "the way". Why yes, because because when you don't know "the way" and you question everything life is just so much easier. Hmmph.

This week I found myself feeling like perhaps I am isolating my children all in the name of being stubborn about organized religion. I would love to know how many folks attend a church and yet believe only 50% of what is being professed each week? 70% what about 30% How many people take their families to a church because they just want that community for their children and figure they will just "unprogram" the stuff they don't necessarily believe over dinner during the week? And is that fair to the church if you take up their resources and time believing that as you go in?

Yeah, this issue was a hell of a lot easier before I had kids. A hell of a lot easier. See, I knew I didn't belong there next door.

And I'll Raise You $.50 Damn It

I think I might have a little bit of an ebay problem. It's a new problem. Under normal circumstances I'm not much of an ebay'er. I don't come by that killer instinct for gambling and auctioning naturally. I'd rather have all the bidders over for coffee and muffins, making sure everyone is comfy while having nice non-political discussion. Then we could split up the goods even steven at the end of the day and I'd be happy. And full from muffins.

But this isn't how the dog eat dog world of ebay really works now is it? One winner, numerous losers, period. The one with the most crap at the end of the day wins. She laughs maniacially.

This new little ebay problem all started with Ava, my 7 year old, earning an allowance. I have taken the liberty of writing up her new "family contribution duties" and pasted them to her bedroom door. My friend Lisa gave me a rousing "Damn Girl, you are running a tight ship over there", when I read Ava's list to her earlier this summer. I call them family contribution duties, because I read in some stupid parenting magazine that allowances are out and family contributions are in. Whatever you want to call it; if Ava does something resembling what is on that list, and I am still sane enough to dole out the $3 bucks on Saturday mornings, she gets her fist full of dollars.

Ava has decided to save up for Littlest Pet Shop toys. which is so hugely ironic in a few ways. First, she really doesn't care for toys, never has. She's your basic "spend every waking moment of your time with ME, I got no time for cheap plastic, love language kind of kid". Second, she had a big birthday party in January and got a truck load of these Littlest Pet Shop toys and returned them all when she figured out she could buy cd's instead. Why she's sort of obsessed with the little creatures now, I have no idea. Call it summer boredom. She has also visited numerous little friend's houses who each seem to have about $4000 invested in these toys providing endless hours of delirious happiness.

Here comes the ebay part. The kid only earns $3 a week. These overpriced colorful bits of animal plastic consumerism are expensive. The poor kid could save up for 6 months and only be able to 1 pet shop house and 10 little animals. So, in my infinite wisdom I explained to her that Mommy would score some serious "gently used Little Pet Shops from smoke free homes" preferrably from a nice family bitten by the de-clutter and simplify bug and then re-sell them to her at the family discount. She's in and a plan is hatched.

Except, I didn't count on ebay'ing for Little Pet Shop crap to become a part time job requiring spread sheets and 2am computer time this week. I was down to the last 30 seconds bidding $5.50 on a lot of 10 animals with only $2.50 in shipping. When literally with 15 seconds some schmo in Nebraska undercut my bid and time ran out on the auction before my very eyes. I had watched those 10 animals for 4 hours people!

The Muffin Man heard me scream and when I went downstairs he rolled his eyes at me, "Whoa what's all the commotion babe?" I lost the Littlest Pet Shop auction I've been watching for hours I explained, using my I've been personally assaulted, I might sue voice. He then turned on his heels and mumbled something about driving my ass to Target and kicking in the extra $2.00 and not worrying about spending hours on ebay. Some people have no imagination, and besides we don't buy the kids toys unless it Christmas or birthdays. Wink.

But, I write this with a light heart as I have just learned that I have won! I have won 2 auctions that will be bringing me 2 packages of those strange little canine/feline/bovine/pandavine plastic pieces in 7-10 business days. Ahh, ummm...I mean Ava has won! This is all for Ava, cough cough.

And now, to re-sell them to Ava with her "family contribution" earnings. Should I make her pay interest for the time my money has been tied up in escrow? Will there be interest if she can't cough up all the cash all at once? What if she decides she's really is into Webkins as she sort of hinted at dinner?

No worries, If I can't unload the goods here on the cul-de-sac I'm selling the lot to Santa...on ebay.

Saying The Darndest Things

Since I've been spending some serious quality time with the girls this summer I've been hearing lots of what's on their minds. This is all fine and good until both of them choose to share the most important thing ever all at the same time. Which is usually about 80% of the time. Both girls chattering away at the same time, both girls frustrated that I cannot respond since I cannot hear anything except chatter, chatter, chatter.

We are of course working A LOT on the concept of how rude it is to interrupt one another. How I simply cannot hear or process what anyone is saying when more than one person is talking, loudly. How, truly everyone will get a turn and my attention if we wait patiently to express that thought. This is a process in our house. Sadly, a rather slow process.

Here are a few gems I have managed to get this summer:

Girl On Girl Inferiority Complexes

Ava says: Mom, you know how you are out and about and sometimes you see a really cute girl? Me: Uh yes, I guess so.
Ava: Doesn't that just make you so jealous? When that girl is cuter than you? It makes me nuts. Me: (rather unpoetically) Are you kidding me? You are seven. Seriously, this makes you nuts? Ava: Yes, it does.
Me: Reeling and thinking I better come up with something resembling a teachable moment. Ugh, Ava beauty is after all skin deep. When that happens to me, I like to think about inner beauty. You know, how good I can be as a friend. Or how hard I try to have integrity as a person. (We were forced to have some serious integrity discussions after this school year, so Ava completely gets integrity.)
Ava: Yeah, but seriously there are some cute girls out there.
Me: Yeah, I guess there are.

So much for teachable moments, bring on the mother daughter botox.

Alternate Methods Of Toy Procurement

Liv: I want roller skates.
Me: Well, put them on a birthday list for next November.
Liv: I NEED them. I can't wait until Kobember.
Me: I know it feels like that but we can't have a new toy anytime we see it on tv.
Liv: I'm telling Grandpa I need roller skates, I can't wait.

She has been asking me to call Santa since she is also convinced that she cannot wait for Christmas either.

Dinner Time Etiquette

Liv after taking one bite of food: Ahhh, this is gross. I can't eat this.
Ava to Livi: Ohhh, if you say things like that you will be offending the cook. And, when you grow up and go to a friend's house you will be so embarassed if you offend the cook. Offended cooks will not serve you food, Right Mom?.
Liv: This is gross.
Me: Nice, Liv.

And so our quest for meaningful proper family discussion continues.

The Candy Parade

The next town over has their Freedom Festival the week before July 4th each year. Ava named it the candy parade when she was two years old since you pretty much get to see cheerleading clubs, Shriners driving mini cars, and John Deere trucks, big ass John Deere trucks. Oh, and everyone IN the parade throws candy at the kids sitting along the sidelines. Apparently this is huge fun when you are under 10, and quite frankly can be the highlight of any red-blooded American's (or Chinese American as the case may be) summer. Thus we have the candy parade. My girls LOVE it.

The snarky adults sitting second row simply toss bets around for just how many cheerleading clubs we will see sweating it out flip flopping through the parade that year. (We've gone to an over-under betting system in recent years...and I placed my over 12 and lost...I still think we should have counted the Cloggers and I want that noted for the record.)


Here is the motely crew before heading off to the candy parade. Livi is dutifully holding her candy bag, notice in red white and blue - for the occasion. We began taking the candy collection thing seriously in 2004 when Ava threw and elbow and took down an unsuspecting 6 year old, all for a necco wafer. This year I got in on the action and made them matching candy bags with the Freedom theme. Livi is doing her part by showing my handywork for posterity. She is my compliant child, and I love her for it.


Waiting, waiting, the candy tossing got off to a slow start this year.

Saw---weeet success. There is a tootsie roll in that bag, just look closer. Personally I can already see the effects of mega sugar intake on her little face.

Yes, that is me. Haven't the hours and hours at the gym done me well? Psst..don't answer that question, it was rhetorical. Despite my best efforts to always remain behind the Canon Powershot, Livi threatened to throw a whopper of a fit if I didn't let her take some photos. So much for the compliant child stuff.

This weekend we are off to our town's parade and festivities. Which actually had the 4th of July celebration on the 4th of July, novel yes?

I'm sure the candy mongers will be able to scam some more goodies to share.

What It Mean, I Born In China?

You know, the international adoption gig can be so strange as time passes, your kids grow up a little and you end up with two very normal little kids who beg to take gymnastics classes, ride bicycles in the cul-de-sac, and learn to float in swim lessons. Just like everyone else.

But then there are days that throw you a little. These are days that bring a flood of memories filled with hot dark civil affairs government buildings in Chinese capital cities, scared screaming babies, and Chinese officials speaking a mile a minute in a sea of chaos.

The fact that we could never get a straight answer on exactly where Ava spent her first 8 months of life in Yueyang County, Hunan has admittedly always bothered me. I've told myself it shouldn't since I got the gift of Ava, isn't a happy healthy beautiful child enough? I've told myself it isn't my story, it's hers, why should this continue to nag at my consciousness? Time has softened the "need to know more, need to know the whole truth". Although I have tried, I simply cannot let it completely go. In the back of my mind there is still something about her first 8 months of life that is locked up in a director's need to hold tight information he deemed possibly unnecessary or embarrassing for the orphanage.

The official paperwork stated she spent approximately 6 months in the orphanage. But, I have pictures showing the baby room empty with captions that read "babies in foster care due to construction". When I questioned our agency several months after we came home about any foster care, our agency reported that the orphanage stated that no records were kept on how long construction took and which babies were sent to be fostered. Due to the fact that this orphanage has always been relatively small and fully embroiled in the international adoption program with the CCAA, I found that hard to believe. Strict paperwork is required by the CCAA.

I had a sense that the director wasn't giving families full information when I met him the day after we met Ava. I thanked him for taking such good care of the 5 babies that came to us that day. He wouldn't look me in the eye. I told him I would send pictures of Ava as she grew. He bowed slightly and looked at his cell phone. I asked him for a business card to keep in touch, he told me through an interpreter that he had forgotten them that day, and that they weren't needed.

Over the years since 2002 a few families have been able to visit the orphanage, to my knowledge, more recently in 2007 and forward. I read these listserve posts when they return home over and over looking for bits of information that may piece the whole truth together. I print the photos of the orphanage and surrounding areas off to place in Ava's big box of all things adoption. Were the children fostered? What does fostering mean at Yueyang County? I suspect that when a child goes home with an orphanage employee at night, that might constitute fostering vs. living full time at a family residence.

Somewhere in about mid 2004 Yueyang County officials began telling families that their children were fostered. As Ava grew a few families posted that they were able to visit the orphanage. Some were allowed to take a few photos of the inside, some were not. Some were treated very kindly and were taken to lunch by the orphanage officials. Recently, a family traveled to Yueyang and was granted permission to visit the facility. When they inquired about their daughter's orphanage file, they were shown information they didn't know existed. A time and exact date of birth. The family shared an email address for the director. There is even a photo of the director, it is not the same man we met in Changsha in 2002.

I emailed the mother who visited just a few weeks ago and asked if she thought the director would check a file if a family made a request via email? She said it might be worth a try. I'm working on a draft to ask this director whether he would be kind enough to search for a file created and closed 7 years ago. I have no idea whether he would process such a request. I think that I will include a photo collage of the referral picture and a few photos of Ava growing up.

Just as the dust was settling on this issue yesterday another one boiled up. I was putting Olivia to bed and after her story she asked, "Mama, what it mean I born in China?" This is the first time she has shown any interest or understanding about her adoption. I did my best to explain "born in China" to my sleepy 3 year old. In typical Liv fashion she seemed to take it all in quietly and with great intent to understand. Then she asked to see pictures of China and our trip in 2006 when she woke up. Today we are looking through photos of our trips to China. I am reminded how time passes quickly. On some level, I suppose I am again determined to know all that I can about my babies precious first few months of life. Even if it means I have to keep asking.

Cul-De-Sac Summer Day 2

Is it just me or is that transition from school year delicious'ness called SCHEDULE into summertime ridiculous'ness eat what you want, sleep when you want, yell at your mom when your want just a little bit like driving toothpicks under your toenails? Maybe I'm just the type of gal who doesn't transition well. I remember being a manager at work several years ago in a new job and feeling way out of sorts when I didn't know with whom I would eat my lunch. I had to smack myself around a bit saying I was making way too much money and supervising way too many people to be worried about lunch, but I was. A few weeks later I'd inevitably adjust to whatever the situation was and wind up fine and dandy. I guess I'm your average hate the new "job" for a week or so and then settle down and relish each moment type of gal.

Last week was my official 1st week on the job as "At home Mom, to two." I was at the beach thinking Oh, this year will be easier...the girls are older...I'm used to transitioning to having 2 at home...and gee whizzz aren't they being rather well behaved?" Hmmph, I guess the fact that they weren't THAT much work had something to do with the Muffin Man and my father helping out quite a bit. Perhaps the good behavior had something to do with WE WERE IN PARADISE and all they had to do was choose between swimming in the gulf of Mexico or the fabulous resort pool. Oh yeah, ice cream at 3pm might have helped mood balance too.

Now reality has set in. Ava pitched a big bitch this morning when I wouldn't let her have sirloin soup for breakfast. Why we would even have sirloin soup in the pantry is a mystery to me. All this makes me think I need to take the Muffin Man's grocery card away, but that's another drama for another day. Liv insists on riding her two wheeler in the cul-de-sac about 18 hours a day in circus bear circles and can't understand why she keeps falling off and skinning her knee after the 10,000th lap. She looks at me like I'm ET when I try to tell her to do 5,000 to the left and 5,000 to the right. Presto, no skinned knee caused by vertigo.

I took them both grocery shopping with me this afternoon. You know where this is going right? Mayhem ensued and I threatened them loudly as they pulled organic crackers down off aisle 9. I rounded a corner and saw a mother with no less than 4 children, calmly walking beside her as she put toothpaste into the cart. These calm mothers need to give up the secret.

I'm just telling myself I simply need two weeks to get into the groove of the "new job". I'll be basking happily at the pool in no time right? I'll figure out a way to get Ava to practice her times tables and she will go to 2nd grade knowing what 3 times 4 equals. She loves her advanced math class, but we've hit the wall practicing times tables, period end of story. Livi will undoubtedly master the cartwheel this summer pulling herself off the bike and finding another way to contort her little body into rapid concentric circles. All will align for us in the universe. We will get our groove on, won't we?

UPDATED THIS MORNING: I decided to take the girls to the free park concert last night. I got the fried chicken and Polly Pockets packed in the cooler. We even had healthy carrots, or did we? I arrived at the concert in the next town and realized I'd left the packed cooler in the garage. I forgot to put the damned thing in the car. Oy. Looking forward to day 3 and 4 and 5 and 67. Day 67 is when school starts in case you're counting.

Oh Captiva, My Captiva

We're back, after our week in paradise. I'm all cranked out because I could move there, sit on a lonely beach and start margharita's at 3pm each and every day. Is that any way to live a life, accomplishing nothing, achieving little unless you count a pickled liver, and functioning at the rate of a sea snail? Probably not, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to want to trying it out for a few years or decades. Please oh, Vanguard accounts of the world...earn momma some vacation home dollars for a happy retirement.

My most stressful problem was how to keep Olivia from becoming polka dotted with the pesky skin condition that turns that adorable kid about 6 different shades of human within 1 week of being in the sun. I know she'll get me good for this one day but I made her wear a rather unattractive hat each and every moment we were outside. And the darn kid is still native brown. So far she's only lightly spotted, I'll report back if she enters techni color status for the summer.

Ava's lovely black silk hair quickly turned to fish wire as she swam in the pool and ocean every day. But, that's nothing a good baking soda and ultra swim shampoo treatment won't cure here when I get around to it.

Oh, yeah and there was the dilemma about whether or not to eat the Muffin Man's steak fajita's for three meals or four emptying a refrigerator full of leftovers onto my ass. I opted for three meals, and yes I'll be paying for it this week and next as the old summer wardrobe is not as comfy loose as it was 8 days ago. With these problems world peace would be a cinch for me. I'm ready to come work for Obama any day he makes that call and springs me from the cul-de-sac.

This week away from it all was about more than a hollywood glad rag magazine and flip flops. It was educational. We saw dolphins dancing off the side of a boat ride, jumping in the ocean as we built sand castles, and even hob nobbed with manatees at a local marina. Believe it or not the Muffin Man even saw a 9 ft. manatee glide by while he was swimming in the ocean. I probably would have freaked out and scared the poor barnacle infested thing over to the bay side, so it was good only he got to swim with the sea cow.

It's back to reality now. Kids are out of school, husband travels for work this summer and I'm left making nachos at 7pm for the kids, popping in a movie and calling it "family time"as justification for the not-so-nutricious-cheese fest. Stop on by the back yard for a lemonade.

Goodbye 1sts

Oh, dear...she's done with 1st grade. Graduated without fan fare, only the requisite cleaning of desks and an early dismissal this gorgeous May day. According to that last report card...that's it, she's done. They are kicking her to the streets for 9 weeks until they expect her back with bells on for 2nd grade. I told her we could celebrate with a quick trip to our favorite Sichuan joint up the street. We ate too many pork dumplings and spicy tofu plates. Tomorrow we kick off our summer holiday with a trip to our favorite little Florida island, Captiva. I will sit in my chair and watch her build sandcastles with her sister.

The second picture is exactly how she looked on that 1st day of 1st grade. Except for the missing front tooth now, I'd say she only looks a little smarter and a wee bit older.

Just as I am sure the 9 weeks of summer, trips to the pool, fire fly catching and mud pie making will be, this year has been fleeting and fast.

I tell her all the time we need to place a brick on her head. Not that she's in any danger of matching me at 6' tall any time soon, or in this lifetime, but I simply can't stand the fact that she's closer to 8 than 7 and she's better than me at fractions.

Miss Olivia had a small graduation of her own recently. Onto to her next year of preschool in September. Her school celebrated with a rousing rendition of Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear. I was dreaming Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear after hearing it no less than 6,000 times the last few weeks. In September she will start a three's preschool class. She knows all her letters and colors and I'm sure she'll be spouting off fraction facts soon too.

I'm not going to wax and wane anymore. I'm not going to cry...sniff sniff. I'm just going to relax this summer and try to catch their each and every move...until they drive me nuts that is and I'm praying to see that big yellow bus pull up again at the corner of the cul-de-sac.

Until then, let the summer games begin.

A little foodie love

Had a request for what was in that crock pot the other night. The one that made Ava do a happy meat jig. And since I am not above a good EASY crock pot recipe or casserole dish, I'm obliged to share a little foodie love. By the way, I love me a casserole and have some American thighs to show for it. Especially in the winter, smothered with cheese, bubbling up at 350 degrees for 1 hour in the oven. You know the kind you can still smell in the morning? And it is too cold to open the windows so you have to burn a Yankee candle? Oh yeah. Not one shred of east coast urban gal left in me...color me Indiana.

Well, here it is.

1. 1 big hunk of pork (I used a huge slab of pork shoulder that had probably been in the freezer since 1996. Kidding, I cleaned the freezer in '98 so it couldn't have been that old.) Defrost the thing, however you might.

2. Pour one can of beer in the crock pot.

3. Pour one jar of banana peppers juice and all into the crock pot.

That's it folks. The whole kit and kaboodle. Now, I let it simmer for 2 hours on high and then another 5-6 on low. But if you are a working stiff...put that puppy on low for 10 hours.

When you open the crock pot use a big fork to sort of pull it all apart, making it shredded. I swear I'd never eat loose meat never mind swoon over it. Good God, I feel as though I'm channeling my inner Paula Dean. Don't you just love her?

Now I know you are wondering...did she make that up? Oh hell no, you know me by now. Why invent it when you can steal it? I give full credit to a gal named Courtney, she hostessed a Pink Evita event recently and told me what was making her house smell yummylicious. It's her recipe or maybe her mother-in-laws, who really knows?

Go forth and make pulled pork. May the force be with you.

Alien Abduction

I suppose I could write about all the reasons why I couldn't post in the last umm...few weeks. I'll just cut to the chase and give it to your straight, I was abducted by aliens and they wouldn't let me have internet access. They had me wearing my hair in two buns over my ears and sitting in a stainless steel room in a white robe. They kept calling me by my catholic confirmation name, Leah and absolutely no wireless access.

In my bloggy absence it appears as if life has gone on here at the cul-de-sac. The 7 year old has declared herself more genetically related to her father (her words, not mine) due to the fact that she has discovered a true and deep everlasting love for meat. Yes, meat. I made pulled pork in the crock pot after the aliens dropped my ass back in suburbia and this is what I got.

Declaration that the adopted child does indeed have more of her father's ever-loving carnivorous self pulsing through her veins than the broccoli I've been pushing for six years. This scene was following by a very groovy happy meat dance. Highly entertaining, if you don't get out much like me.

Liv has been up to good stuff as well. She rides a bike now. She's three. No training wheels. Proving that her people were circus people, she spent 4 hours riding one way in a circle this past Sunday in the cul-de-sac. She never fell, not once.

It's strange but true. Her sister and friend next door were highly embarassed, as they only rode scooters until Sunday. They each hopped on a bike and started riding for the first time as well.




When you look at the last picture doesn't the music from Wizard of Oz when the wicked witch is riding her bike play in your head? Dunt dee dunt dee duhhh duhhh.

I was kidding about the alient abduction thing, no really I was. I'm jsut super busy with ye' old little business. Follow along as I post pictures of my new iron, the shark...and see if I can make 18 bags in 18 days while maintaining some semblence of mental sanity. Follow along at Pink Evita if you'd like.