The Magic of Santa

Much to my surprise, at our local Families with Asian Children Holiday Party, Santa was able to lift Tabitha into his lap. I finally have my pictures with Santa!

Christmas for Tabitha

This will be our second Christmas with our baby girl. Last year she didn't know what to expect and we didn't even attempt the "Santa" story. This year I've told her about the miracle of the birth of Christ and explained the man with the white beard. She had already heard about baby Jesus and can sing, "Jesus Loves Me" but her eyes grew wide when I told her about Santa bringing toys to the good boys and girls.

"To me, Mommy?" "Toys to me?" she asked incredulously. "Can I see Santa?" "Where is he?"

This I supposed she asked because she knows Jesus is in heaven along with our dog, Maggie, and various other people she can't see. Then my Mommy mind kicked into gear and I realized this might parlay into a chance to get pictures of her with Santa. Last year she buried her face in my shoulder and clung to me like velcro when we got within 50 feet of Santa Claus. This year, having blossomed into a somewhat gregarious, at least less clingy little girl, we may have a chance. So I told her, "Santa lives at the North Pole but he's at the Mall right now where you can go sit in his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas."

"Oh no," she replied, "I'm not sitting in his lap."

"But sweetheart, he's coming to our house on Christmas Eve to put presents under our tree for you," I explained.

"Mommy, I don't want him in our house!" she replied.

Well I guess Santa will have to leave everything on the porch. Later, when she pointed out a character in a book sitting in Santa's lap, I tried again to persuade her.

"Mommy, I want you to sit in Santa's lap and tell him what I want." she said.

"Sweetheart, old ladies do not sit in Santa's lap," I explained.

"Well, new ones don't either," she said.

Maybe I'll try again next year.

Introducing Tobey

We are ecstatically happy to announce our upcoming adoption of Tobey. Today after a year of paperwork, waiting, and general frustration with red tape, we were told that our official Letter Seeking Confirmation has arrived at our agency. All we have to do is check the “yes” box indicating we consent to adopt this wonderful child, sign the paper, and send it back to our agency. They will then send it on to China and the wait for Travel Approval or TA to be issued. At that point, we can begin to make travel arrangements. All this will take about 6 weeks so we may be spending Christmas or New Year’s in China. But what a Christmas present!!!!

As you can see from the picture, Tobey is a very handsome 5 year old. He is standing beside the fabulous birthday cake that the orphanage purchased on our behalf. Looking at his radiant smile, I think he really enjoyed being the center of attention that day. I would have rather have had one of our famous H family birthday parties for him but was glad we could at least send a cake for him.

Tabitha is excited about her new brother but I’m sure that excitement will wan when she actually has to share Mommy and Daddy with him.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I noticed, as I was dropping Tabitha off at daycare, that there was a new girl in class. I noticed her because she was scrutinizing me carefully. She watched with great interest while I kissed Tabitha bye. Tabitha skipped off happily and I smiled at the little girl. I thought to myself, "well, here it comes, she's going to ask why Tabitha and I look different." I have read volumes now on how to discuss adoption and racial differences with curious adults and children. I know we will always be conspicuous because we look different. I paused to collect my thoughts, after all, this was pre-caffeine, and then graciously turned my attention to the child to give her an opportunity to ask her question. After all, I want to make sure that Tabitha's classmates understand that adoption is a good thing and that our family is different only in the way it was formed. I had an opportunity, maybe, to buffer my baby from being singled out for being adopted. I could smooth the way for her at least this time. "Hey, Lady," the little girl said, "are you her Grandma?" After opening and closing my mouth a few times, I told her that I am a Grandma but I am Tabitha's mama. Wow, those pre-k kids are a rough group. It was just two days after my birthday and I had convinced myself that I still looked pretty good for an old lady. Maybe I need a new brand of wrinkle cream or a face lift. I think I'm going to stick close to Tabitha from now on when I drop her off, maybe she can be a buffer for me.

Ms. Potato Head Gets Her Arm Back

I'm really trying to be positive. After all, my problems pale in comparison to the problems of others. But, it is hot and I am chronically sleep deprived and I'm just a little grouchy. My dishwasher has quit dispensing soap, which, in my mind, is a major part of the cleaning process. Okay, we can wash dishes by hand. The AC in my car has also decided that August is the best time to quit working and refuses to be fixed even after my husband worked on it and spent money (we don't have) on a part. Okay, okay, I can drive with the windows down. It is still hot and I arrive at my destination sweaty with my hair standing on end but I get there. Best of all--my washing machine won't finish washing without beeping out in distress, flashing F codes, and dumping water all over the floor. We tried our various means of coping with this disaster, depending on our levels of hygiene requirements, before I was able to schedule a repair person through the Sears phone robot. The repair man came and spent several hours cleaning out the drain, replacing parts, and testing volts. $300 later (which we don't have) he declared the washer cured of its ills and left. I happily began washing only to have a recurrence of the F-codes and more beeping. I argued with the Sears phone robot (I'm sorry, I didn't get that response.) and think, hope, and pray the repair man will return to find the real problem. Never mind that I had to schedule a day off work to wait for his first appearance. The only bright side to all of this is that one of the items clogging up the drain was Ms. Potato Head's arm. It has a few chunks missing but I think we'll be able to reattach it. I can't say the same about my sense of humor.

Elmo Birthday Fun (Again)

Tabitha's Elmo birthday party was a big success! Thanks to all who helped to make it one. This year she really understood what were birthdays are about. Cake, presents, and a party, of course! She does get the concept of being a certain number and proudly tells everyone, even complete strangers in Target, that she is 3. She holds up the requisite 3 fingers as proof.

As a matter of fact she thinks she should have at least 3 of everything now that she is 3. Her Daddy told her just last night that she could either quit playing in his plate of food or get down out of his lap. She loves to finish her dinner then annoy her Daddy from his lap while he tries to finish eating. As her annoying behavior continued, he gave her the empty threat of getting off his lap or behaving. Her big brother told her, "Tabi, as I see it, you have 2 choices. Leave Dad's food alone or get down." "No, Tyler, I have 3 choices," she replied holding up 3 fingers. Silly Tyler forgot to count the choice where she does what she wants to do.


Hopers eyes the cake.





Birthday girl in the pool.





Birthday girl refuses to smile for the camera.

And now it is July

July? How did it get to be July? The days are just rolling by! Tabi will be 3 in just a few days. She's now a whopping 22 pounds and 33 3/4 inches tall. Here are a few pictures to bring everyone up-to-date.

Things to be Thankful For

Hey---I’m back! After a brief interlude of insanity, otherwise known as a busy life, the blog is back online. We had a wonderful Thanksgiving, although, if you read Tara’s blog, you will already know that there were some less than favorable moments. We’ve had a family tradition for years of camping on Thanksgiving. Well, when we first started camping, we would be one of 25 or so tent campers in camp ground. There might be 3 RVs. Now camping is like pitching your tent in a trailer park. We were subjected to extremely loud and very bad sounding karaoke and drunken football revelry. I’m not sure what we’re going to do next year but if anyone knows where we might go to tent camp in a serene area where we might enjoy the sounds of nature, you know, birds and stuff, let us know! The little ones enjoyed themselves, poor little things didn’t know that bad karaoke is NOT part of the camping experience. Anyway, it was Tabitha’s first Thanksgiving and she loved sharing it with her nieces and nephews (as long as they didn’t try to ride her Care Bears scooter). We all had many things to be thankful for, our family, health, and the good fortune not to actually BE drunken redneck karaoke singing RVers (just be camped near them).

Now to get ready for Christmas. Another first for Tabitha! Our tree is up and just waiting for little hands to decorate the bottom half. Tonight we’re off to the city’s Festival of Lights celebration and hope to get some pictures of Hopers and Noodle in the parade.

Tabitha Funnies

This morning while getting ready for pre-school and work, I attempted to put Tabitha’s hair in two pony tails. I do this mostly to keep her hair clean and out of the way because she has a wild mane of unruly wavy hair. I probably should get it cut but I love her curls. So every morning I try to make some semblance of a part, which her hair does not do naturally. I sit her on the bathroom countertop, between the two sinks and chase her bobbing head as she gets into everything she can. I try to position her head with my hands to remind her where I need her head to be but she ignores me and gets on with the business of plundering toiletries. This morning I cried out in exasperation after my third attempt at a part, “Tabitha, will you hold your head still!” She promptly put her two little hands on either side of her head and held it still.

Last week when she was finger painting at school, her teacher told me that Tabitha put her entire hand down in the paint, looked at her hand, then rubbed the paint all over her face. She still had a purple tint when I picked her up. I guess she thought she would be really pretty with a purple face.

This Wednesday was picture day at school. Since I had to sit under a blanket and hold her when we took her for studio pictures, I didn’t have much faith that the school would have better luck than I. The teachers said they stood in the next room laughing as the photographer positioned Tabitha on the stool in front of the back drop and ran to the camera as Tabitha turned to face the backdrop. After trying this five or six times, the photographer finally wised up and placed Tabitha facing the backdrop before running to the camera. This time, Miss Stubborn, turned to face the camera.

Yesterday, while I was trying to cook supper, Tabitha was hanging on my leg and crying because she was hungry and because she always wants my undivided attention. I pacified her by giving her pieces of the raw vegetables that I was chopping. She loved raw bell pepper, yellow squash, and zucchini. I gave her a piece of raw cabbage that was a little bitter. She tasted it, ran to the trash can, spit out the cabbage and exclaimed, “That’s old!”

She keeps me laughing every day.

(No pictures for now, my camera is broken.)

Two Year-Old Check-up

Tabitha weighed 16 pounds and was 27 inches long when we first met her in China. Today she had her 2 year old check-up and after just 7 months of Gerber food, she now weighs 19 pounds and is 30 and ¾ inches long. Woohoo! She’s still not on the American growth chart but she’s growing! She got a shot, another TB test, and a lab sheet for more blood work. Some things have to be checked twice just in case she was exposed right before we brought her home. She watched those needles carefully. No one will be able to sneak up on her again with one of those. She got a snazzy pink camouflage Band-Aid and a spider-man sticker and she was really proud of both. She wouldn’t let me remove the Band-Aid even though it was starting to come off during her bath. She earned that Band-Aid, and, by golly, she’s not going to let anyone take it from her.

How's It Going?

A lot of people ask me that, referring to Tabitha, usually as we’re departing church or I’m drying my hands in the Ladies room at work. I know they want the short answer, the one you want when you ask, “Hi, how are you doing?” When people ask that question, they’re politely acknowledging your existence and usually don’t want the gory details of your gall bladder surgery. So, depending on how much sleep I’ve had, I answer, “We’re doing great!” or “Pretty good for not having slept in 6 months.” To tell you the truth, the real answer to, “How’s it going?” is complicated and not something I could answer in brief. For most people to fully understand my answer, they would need to have an understanding of the issues involved in adopting a child through international adoption.

First of all, bringing a toddler home from China is much different than bringing a new born home from the hospital or even adopting one domestically. It’s different for the parents and different for the child. Maybe someone should ask Tabitha, “How’s it going?” I imagine that if she was verbally fluent (she’s still at one to two word sentences) and could analyze her feelings enough to put them into words, she might tell you that she’s starting to get used to her parents. She didn’t know for sure why they took her from the orphanage, after all, she had never left it before. Her life in the orphanage had been one of routine and she knew what to expect every minute of each day. She was taken by these two strange looking people and subjected to new experiences with no two days being the same. She might tell you how terrified she was that she might be left somewhere so she clung to the “mommy.” Somehow through the terror, she started to notice that these new people were very focused on her, they held her and stroked her and cooed their strange words to her. Today, she’s pretty sure Mommy and Daddy aren’t going to go away but she holds tight to them, just in case. A feeling of panic creeps on her when she’s in new situations, especially when Mommy and Daddy are not focused on her. She has to do things to get their attention. She’s noticed that she’s not always in the center of their attention and that’s a little scary, she doesn’t want her life to be like it was in the orphanage, when attention was given in small doses. So she pushes Mommy’s hands away from her computer and climbs up in her lap with a book for Mommy to read to her. She makes Mommy hold her while Mommy cleans house. She has to make sure these people don’t forget about her. And then there’s Hoper’s and Noodle. At first when they came to play, she thought they were going to stay. Mommy loved on them and that made her feel panicky, too. She didn’t want to share. At the orphanage, you had to be special to get loved on and maybe Mommy would think Hoper’s and Noodle were more special than her. So she hit Hopers and pushed her. Now she’s not so worried about them taking her Mommy away from her but she still gets a little nervous around all kids. Night time is the worst time. She doesn’t like being alone. When she goes to sleep she doesn’t know what might be happening, so she doesn’t want to sleep. She feels safest in the big bed between Mommy and Daddy but sometimes she still has bad dreams. She really likes her toys. She didn’t have toys that were just hers before and doesn’t like it when other kids touch her toys. “I’m not in the orphanage anymore“, she wants to tell them, “I don’t have to share toys.” At school, she “shares,” which means she forcefully takes the toys she wants. She has to hit the kids there sometimes because if you hit them first, they won’t bother you. When you are smaller than everyone, you have to fight for everything. She doesn’t cry at school, even if it hurts when she falls down. School feels like an orphanage because Mommy and Daddy aren’t there. At the orphanage you didn’t always get comforted when you fell down. Crying doesn’t do much good in the orphanage, the grown-ups can’t always help you because they have to help all the kids. Mommy and Daddy will help, though, so she cries really loud and long when they’re near. The experiences she had at the orphanage, both good and bad, are starting to fade, but the lessons she learned from living there are still with her. She’s learning that things are different when you have a family, but changing your expectations of the world and the way you react to it is hard.

From my perspective, I have this amazing and beautiful little girl who soaks up life like a sponge. She watches and learns from everything around her. I love her so much that my heart nearly bursts when I think about her. She commands my attention every moment that she is awake and even some moments when she is asleep. She is both fearful and clingy and yet fiercely independent during the same point in time. She has nightmares and night terrors that keep us up sometimes for nights on end. She has been sick so often that I fear that I won’t have enough sick leave to make it through the winter months. At home, when we’re just hanging out, she’s loving and playful but when we take her places, she’s anxious, and more often than not will act out. She will cling to me and push me away, making me exhausted and wish that we had stayed home. At home, I realize I need adult companionship so I call my grown kids on the phone and annoy them. Bit by bit, she’s learning to play on her own and doesn’t always need me sitting beside her. She’s still intensely jealous of all activities that don’t involve her, so all my activities are done in small spurts or with her on my hip. Sometimes it’s very wearing and my patience runs thin. Now that she’s two, she has learned that inevitable word, “no” and is perfecting the art of balking. She’s also cutting all her teeth at once and is extremely cranky at times. Just when I think I can’t listen to another minute of whining, she puts her tiny arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. "Mama," she whispers softly. I remember why I love her, my little piece of pure heaven.

So how are you?

Celebrate Life

Celebrate! Tabitha’s 2nd birthday, our 6 month anniversary of her adoption, the State of Florida’s recognition of our adoption--we had so much to celebrate this past month! Most of all, we celebrate that we have added to our already wonderful family, this precious baby girl. God is really good to us!

We had a big party bash for Tabitha. It was her 2nd birthday, but her first birthday party. She has been to several others’ birthday parties and she knew just what to do, except for the candle part. We had lots of friends and family over. Doc T and family and Grandpa came for the weekend. As you can see from the pictures, Tabitha got lots of presents. This house was rocking and rolling with chaos. It was so much fun! Thanks to everyone for helping us celebrate.

Doc T Graduates

We (me, G-Daddy, Tabitha, and Grandpa) attended the final graduation ceremony for Doc T. She’s finally done with her residency program and is stepping out into the real world. I’m the mother of a doctor now, which means that I can back up my internet degree in medicine with real medical advice. She can’t write us prescriptions, there’s some kind of medical code of honor that forbids that, but all the members of her family can feel free to wake her up at 2:00 am to ask about a strange looking mole that may have turned cancerous sometime during the night. I’m so proud of her. I remember when Doc T. was just a sassy little girl, the sassiness started around birth, and now she’s all grown up. I guess that sassiness will serve her well when she’s brow beating someone into getting a colonoscopy.


Big boy Natey tried to keep his Aunt quiet during the graduation, telling her, “Be quiet, Tabifa.” Tabitha entertained the people around us by holding my cell phone to her ear and saying, “Hewwo? Yes, yes.” Both kids were pretty patient with the whole affair and baby Nick expressed his excitement by sleeping through most of it.

Proud Parents

Proud Grandpa

Happy Boy

Nicky Wakes for a Moment

"Excuse me, I need to take this call."

The Family Bed

We’re doing the family bed thing. If you don’t approve of the family bed concept, well, just go on your way now and sleep your peaceful sleep. I don’t want have to explain myself but suffice it to say I just can’t stand the idea of her feeling abandoned or lonely or frightened. She starts out in her bed, or at least in the Pack-n-Play she thinks is her bed, but almost always ends up in ours. Each night she drinks her bobble (isn’t that soooo cute), kisses Daddy nite-nite, and runs off to the bathroom yelling “teeth.” I brush her teeth, then tuck her in with Pooh and LuLu the Lamb. She cheerfully blows kisses at me and is sound asleep within 5 minutes--it’s now 8:00. The house is quiet except for Daddy’s inevitable crime show. Since I’m a grown-up and can stay up as long as I want, I doze in my chair until 9:00 before crawling off to bed. Then sometime around 1:00 comes the blood-curdling cries. I try patting her back, stroking her gently but the crying becomes more frantic and increasingly louder. Just before the sound barrier is broken and the neighbors call law enforcement, I sweep her up into our bed. The crying usually stops instantly and the turf wars begin. The grown-ups cling to the edges of the bed while the smallest occupant kung fu fights for dominance over the rest. This morning I felt her tiny hands pushing at me and since I had no place to go except the floor, I picked her up and moved her to the center of the bed. Next thing I know, she’s on her knees with two fists full of my pajama shirt trying to throw me off the bed. Maybe I was snoring. Who knows, but I’m thinking about sleeping in the Pack-n-Play and letting her have the family bed.

Getting Adjusted

Look what I found under the couch! It’s a blog. Kinda dusty.

We’re getting adjusted. I knew that going back to work full time would be the test for me. Tabitha’s doing great; I’m exhausted. My house is a mess, my car is a pigsty, but we’re happy. Every morning on the way to day care I tell Tabitha “The Story of Monday (or whatever day it is).” In this story I describe her day and how at the end of it Mama comes to pick her up and take her home. She joins in with a chorus of “home!” at the end of each story. I don’t know if it is this preparation or that she’s just a stoic little girl, but after giving me a goodbye kiss and hug, she waves bye and toddles off to play without a tear. Part of me wants her to cling to me and cry so I’ll know she’s attached to me. When I come to pick her up in the afternoon, though, she runs to me laughing with arms reaching up. It makes my heart warm just thinking about it.

The day care workers tell me she never cries and that she’s totally fearless. Occasionally she has a time out for aggressive behavior toward the other babies but they’re patiently trying to teach her, along with all the other toddlers, to share. I read a lot about attachment disorder while we were waiting to go to China. I know that many children adopted from orphanages suffer from this disorder. I have the list of attachment disorder symptoms burned into my brain from reading them so often before she came home. (I had a lot more time on my hands then.) Every time I see her behavior lean in the direction of one of those symptoms, like never crying at day care, not crying when I leave her, and her fearlessness, my mind tries to put a check mark beside a symptom. Then I erase the check and tell myself, “Self, she’s only been home since January. The orphanage was all she had ever known and you don’t know what she experienced there. Give her time to adjust. Of course she’s tough and stoic, she’s never had a primary caregiver who she trusted to take care of all her needs. Keep showing her that you’re hers and you will take care of her no matter what. Enjoy her, love her, worry later, if necessary.”

Okay, when I’m not worrying about attachment disorder, I enjoy her spunkiness. I love spunky kids. She’s funny, too. She loves to be silly and clown around. But don’t cross her or she may have to take her shoe off. The day care workers told me that she went up to the biggest boy of the two year olds, took her shoe off and started hitting him with it. Poor little fellow obviously didn’t realize he outweighs her by 10 pounds so he ran from her. She chased him a few feet, still swatting at him with her shoe. Then she stopped and calmly put her shoe back on. The teachers scolded her and comforted him then inwardly howled with laughter at the sight of the tiniest chastising the largest. My petite baby girl is 17 pounds of pure dynamite.

Disclaimer: She must have learned the shoe thing in China. We have big feet and our shoes would be considered lethal weapons. We don’t hit each other and if we did, we certainly wouldn’t use shoes.

The Face of Confidence

Okay, I will admit that I am a very inconsistent blogger. Raising a toddler is consuming all my resources. (Yes, that means a tiny, 16 pound, one year old is whipping my rear-end and I am too exhausted at the end of each day to think of how to type, much less what to type.) But before you nay-sayers say, “I told you so,” hush, I love this little tyke immensely and am totally content.) It is hard to blog, though, since she is insanely jealous of my laptop and whines to get in my lap if I even look at it. And there are so many other things that keep us busy each day. There are lunches with friends, trips to the vet, trips out of town, shopping to be done, playing at the park, stomach viruses (nasty), and all those day to day things that aren’t getting done, either. And then before you know it, looming on the horizon is my inevitable return to work. I have to make the most of my time off work doing bonding activities and fun stuff.

I’m having a little trouble with the concept of work and my new status as mommy to a toddler. Not that I have a choice about returning to work, since my income is half of the family’s support and that toddler has to eat. But I sure will miss our leisurely mornings of bottles and coffee, daytime excursions, and rocking her to sleep for her afternoon naps. I know that weekends at the end of a workweek will be full of errands and chores that will rob of us of our one on one time. Basically, I’m not ready to leave her yet.

The important question is whether she is ready for me to leave her. As the experts advise, we’ve worked on meeting her needs immediately so that she can feel secure. I’ve guided her gently and slowly through accepting her new world. She has made great strides in the short time she has been home. Just look at her face; it is a face that shows confidence. Confidence that her smallest whimper will bring us running, that the hugs and kisses will keep coming, and that all the ice cream belongs to her. She now holds up her arms for her Daddy to pick her up and will snuggle her little body next to his for comfort. She chants, “Da Da, Da Dee,” when he gets home from work. Big change from not wanting him to touch her. She has climbed into her big sister’s lap of her own accord and no longer cries when sister tries to hold her. She’s warming up to her niece, Hopers, and calls her, “Op.” She still follows me from room to room but doesn’t panic when I leave her to put away laundry. Today she stayed in the nursery at church. I was apprehensive and kept waiting to be summoned to comfort a sobbing child but they said she played the entire time. Huh. She could have at least looked sad for a minute but I guess this is testimony to her feeling secure. She was happy to see me when the service was over and I was happy to see her! I think she is going to do just fine; I don’t know about me.

Doc T Delivers Another Nephew for Tabitha

Sorry about the dearth of posts but I have a toddler now which means I am lucky to put together a complete sentence verbally, much less write it down. Those of you with toddlers know that the law of physics for toddlerhood is: For every action completed by an adult there is an extremely unequal and opposite reaction completed by the toddler. For example, you, the adult, see a cheerio on the floor that must have fallen there sometime in the last week and you, being the tidy person that you are, deposit it in the trash. This action means that sometime in the next 10 minutes your toddler will dump an entire box of cheerios on the floor (or eggs, or laundry detergent, or flour, or anything else that you absent mindedly put down as you rushed to get your toddler out of the trash that she has just removed from the can).

The big news this month is: Doc T delivers and baby Nicky made his debut, weighing in at 8 pounds and 10 ounces, 21 inches long. Big brother Natey, by all accounts, was not as thrilled as the rest of the family, telling them to not talk about the baby anymore. But hey, from a two-year-old’s point of view, a newborn is pretty under- whelming. Except when baby brother cried, Natey lamented that he couldn’t understand what the baby was saying. We don’t know either, Nate, but I can guess from my experience with boys, that he’s saying, “More food!” So, Tabitha, I have another grandson and you have another nephew. I hope that doesn’t make you feel too old. Of course, she doesn’t know enough English to fully express what it must feel like as those nieces and nephews keep coming. Wasn’t it just yesterday her sisters were babies?

She is adding to her vocabulary with rapid pace, however. She can say, “hush” to the dogs, “up” to be picked up, “bye” and “shoes” for the obvious, along with “Mama” and “Daddy” and some things I’m not sure about. I’ve heard her say, “diaper,” “bottle,” and “baby.“ She understands what we say to her as much as any typical 19 month old would. She is also learning other many useful skills like how to recycle. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know what to recycle, so you never know what you might find in the recycling bin (like her shoes).

Tabitha has finally begun to allow her daddy to pick her up and to hold her. Not only does she allow it--she demands it when he has a bowl of ice cream. I think he knows now to dip two bowls of ice cream if he expects to eat any.

She’s also making great strides in getting comfortable with the dogs. She helped me bathe one of the weenies and later felt of his soft ears and bopped him on the head with her toy. He might not have appreciated the progress but he does love kids and will tolerate tough love from them.

First Days in Changsha: A Retrospective

Those first few heady days in Changsha before baby and when we first got her all seem a long time ago now. The pictures, grainy though they are, bring them back along with the tears of happiness. The time seemed almost surreal. We had waiting so long and jumped through so many hoops to get this baby and then we were there, actually doing just that. I don’t know if it was the jet-lag or the gray weather that hung over us for our week in Changsha but everything seemed a bit fuzzy. I kept expecting to wake up back at home, still waiting. We arrived at the Changsha airport on a cold and drizzly day, the eve of meeting our daughter.

On baby day, the group of expectant parents woke up a little and the anticipation of finally meeting our daughters made us all a little giddy. We took a bus to the stark government building and waited for the babies to get there. Daphne, our adoption agency rep, gave us our number, which indicated the order in which our babies would be presented. We were last. I watched as each baby was brought into the room and handed over to her family. Most babies cried loudly and most parents wept with joy. By the time our name was called, I had completely lost my composure. Tabitha whimpered and looked extremely anxious, a look that became very familiar over the next few days. I took her to a far corner of the room and cuddled her, stroked her head, and whispered mommy words in her ear. Ba Ba watched us, occasionally stroking her and adding in his own words of comfort. She cuddled against me, somewhat comforted, but still frightened. Having completed all the paperwork the night before, thanks to Daphne’s wise experience, we were then free to go on the bus. Tabitha leaned against me and slept. I cried. You can see from the picture that my lips were cracked and dry and I surely could not afford to loose any moisture but I cried nonetheless. Tears of joy, relief, and love. She was mine and finally, finally in my arms. I’ve added pictures to the slide show of that day and the next.

Tabitha is so much more vibrant now but sometimes she gets the look that she had during those first few day, a look of fear and helpless resignation and I feel a pang of hurt that cuts to the core of my being. I know she doesn’t understand why her world has been turned upside down. During those days, I so longed to see a smile--or even a temper tantrum--anything but resignation in those eyes. Her cries even sounded weak, like the cries of a newborn.
We spent the next few days getting acquainted with our frightened little baby. We still could not believe she was ours. She remained passive except that she clung to her Mama with fierce determination. My presence was the constant in her suddenly tumultuous life. Our guides, Daphne and Ellen, gave a birthday party dinner, complete with cake to the little ones in our group. Most of them had passed their first birthdays without fanfare. Tabitha was oblivious to the festivities as she struggled with the concept of sitting in a high chair. She didn’t like being anyplace Mama’s arms were not. It’s okay that she didn’t realize there was a party in her honor, she has plenty of shindigs in her future.

Hong Kong Boat People

Since there’s not much to blog about right now--Chicken Pox is pretty boring--I thought I would start showing some pictures of our trip. Today’s slide show features part of our Hong Kong tour when we visited the Boat People. We rode in a small boat driven by a tiny woman who makes her living giving tours of the Boat People “village.” She has spent her life on a boat and since her husband died, no longer fishes. The Boat People live on these boats their entire lives and have for many generations. The city grew up around them but their lives have remained basically the same. The floating restaurant caught all our attention since it was so ornate. Once we saw the rusty back with yucky looking stuff being pumped into the bay we decided it was not where we wanted to eat.

My oldest brother lived on a boat for several years. I wish that I could share these photos with him but he died two years ago just as we were beginning this process. This slide show is dedicated to his memory.

A Pox on Your Child

People in medieval times believed that chicken pox was due to a curse. Tabitha just might agree with them after the past two days of her bout with chicken pox. She was one sick little baby. Apparently, she was exposed while still in the orphanage since the nearly two week stay with us in China fits the incubation period for the illness. Four of the 11 babies in our group have chicken pox. One of them we are very worried about; she has them in her eyes. We've exposed Hopers, who is unvaccinated, Doc T, who is pregnant, and the one billion people we came into contact with as we flew across the world on three flights, one of which included a 4 hour layover at the Chicago O'Hare airport. Sorry about that, we didn't know until the next day that the irritability was chicken pox. There were many things to be irritable about. Fourteen hour flights tend to do that to people.

Yesterday Tabitha felt much better and achieved several new accomplishments. After watching niece Hopers crawl across the floor, she decided crawling might be fun. No more staying in one room. She can walk but floor coverings and shoes are tricky things when you’re just learning and tend to trip you up when you least expect it. Crawling can get you somewhere quickly and if you fall, well, there’s only like 3 inches to the floor. You might think that a walking baby would already know how to crawl but because most orphanages are not heated, the babies are dressed in so many layers of clothing that they resemble starfish and are not given much tummy time on the cold floor. Not very conducive to crawling so they skip that stage and move on to walking.

The accomplishment she was most proud of was her mastery of the rocking chair. She knew it was kid-sized but she couldn’t get her short little legs high enough to climb in. Then baby Hopers, aka The Giant Baby, came to visit and climbed in with ease. Hopers, though 8 months younger, is a little taller than Tabitha and has been mobile since she was 4 months old so it was an easy feat for her. Not to be outdone by a 10-month-old, Tabitha figured out how to climb up also. Today she climbed in and out of the rocking chair 100s of times with the intense concentration of an Olympic athlete in training.

We have great plans for Tabitha and nieces Hopers and Noodle to become good friends. This will be especially convenient for us since big sister T will be watching Tabitha during the day when I return to work. Right now, Tabitha will not let anyone besides me hold her and has no use for other children, except as role models in exploring her world. Noodles, being a mature 5 year old, can get Tabitha to laugh and is very patient with her pushing her away and slapping at her. She thinks Tabitha is too cute and, of course, reinforces all the wrong behaviors by laughing at them. Each day, though, we see a happier and more secure baby, one who is accepting and liking her new world.