Baby Shower

Photo: Diaper cake built by the boys and me.

Generally, I spend just a touch too much time wondering if my kid issues (and our solutions) are: (1) a "general kid" thing or an adoption thing and (2) does it really matter?

This last week I attended a baby shower, just a small one, but it hit the traditional baby shower topics; women sharing birthing stories, what the spouse's reaction to the birth/labor, who is stepping in on coverage for the older kid, etc. It was the first time that I felt there was a difference in adoption and biological. I was tempted to share the story of the first time I saw my little man. Then I realized, "of course, how stupid; I've forgotten that it is just different, my little man didn't come from my belly". Then I realized, maybe I've passed a major mommy milestone. I know he's adopted, it was a painful-long process, but the difference in relationship's start just doesn't mean that much to me anymore. I'm in the thick of parenting and trying to do what is right and best for him. Yeah, I know he's adopted, but I don't think of this little historical fact as often as I just think about taking care of him.

The other thing that is different in adopting vs. giving birth is the stories that are shared. Giving birth is fairly common in my group of friends. In talking about giving birth, and maybe because it was discussed with close girlfriends, they share the good and the bad. The 2 hour labor story along with the 38 hour labor that in the end became a cesarean. The swollen, cracked bleeding nipples of breast feeding, the use of pads for post bleed. The strangeness of an infant that is "blob" like. The reality of changing diapers and holding a wobbly head. The sibling reactions (from affection to jealousy that included a trip to grandma's so the parents could adjust to new baby) and dealing with the in-laws at the same moment that you are craving privacy. What didn't come up in conversation, which is now very common among my adoptive-family friends, is the sharing of bonding/parenting/developmental books, names of specialist pediatricians, and what drugs to carry as you leave for overseas.

When I decided to adopted, I actively sought out adoptive parents to ask questions. Adopting is a less common experience, I had to find people to tell me their stories. While a couple I talked to where family or close friends, the majority were not. The majority of the people I found were complete strangers or friends of a friend. And in hindsight, none of them told me of any of the difficulties of the "adjustment" period. They all talked about how "beautiful" it was, how the child completed their lives, that if you take this calling your chosen by greater powers, etc. The adoption agency definitely took us through all the medical things that could go wrong, and I think adequately prepared us for the worst on the medical front. The pediatrician was fabulous and had me fully loaded on medications and how to use them (from scabies to antibiotics). But I don't think anyone took me aside and prepared me for the early hard part. No one said the things I feel should be shared, such as:

• "this was the hardest choice I ever made, and I didn't know it until after my child was with me"
• "don't expect love at first sight, this is an arranged marriage, but love does come"
  
• "the weeks in China are a honeymoon period, the first weeks home are hell, but it gets better just when you think you can't handle it anymore"
• "the beginning is bad, but it just hasn't stopped improving, but yeah, the beginning was rough"
• "sleepless nights isn't just for babies, be prepared to visit (re-visit) the land of the sleep-deprived parenting for the first couple months"
• "you will question every major relationship in your life - spouse, parental, friends - feeling it most within your household, as you all adjust to the new balance in relationships"
• "After 11 years of marriage, I seriously wanted to divorce my husband, and that feeling too passed. It was all part of the adjustment of relationships"
• "people will tell you what a good thing you are doing, at a time when you are losing your mind, and its not polite to tell them to go to @#$#%"

There is a likely reason no one said these things; nobody wants to discourage anyone from giving a child a home. But I was committed, I just wished I knew more of the reality. And I even say this knowing that we have two great boys, with no major issues, a solid marriage, and great friends. We faced nothing overwhelming in the process, no major crisis. And yet, in this scenario, it wasn't easy. I won't tell anyone the process is easy. Bless you if it was/is.

Bad Santa

Unexpectedly, I've made Santa into the fall guy. You know the person who gets the blame. Ouch! Yeah, I felt that way at first, but now I think it has advantages.

As I've noted before, with the cold weather, with me starting up a new business, I've been re-purposing boxes in our house. They are transformed from useful for shipping into 30 minutes of creative time with no fighting, followed by 30-45 minutes of focused play with the new creation. Really, I have discovered the miracle of boxes for bigger kids and something fun for all of us to do together before bath time.

Typically, the first day is assemble; sticking our new shape together with tape and cutting windows, doors peep holes. The second day is color; paint, markers, crayons, what ever mess I'm up for. The third day is collage, or various stuff stuck on; tissue paper, stickers, cut out shapes of paper, or tissues. Then two days of free play. Then the house, rocket ship, boat, or our current creation - rolling cotton candy cart - disappears in the middle of the night.

A year ago, with only one child, and a three year old at that, the middle of the night disappearance would sometimes go unnoticed for a few days. Then when it came up I'd just say, "oh, that's been gone for ages, we played with it until it fell apart." No major questions, generally no fights.

Well, now with two kids, and the oldest four years old, the middle of the night disappearance leads to questions in the morning. The household is in unison on answers, "Gosh, I don't know where it went?" One day I said out loud "the Boogie Man got it," and I immediately regretted introducing any such terrifying idea. Luckily my eldest didn't quit catch it, so when he said "what?" I just replied I had no idea where it went. Sometimes the little guy in the morning will show me a small piece of paper/box that was left behind from the latest creation and look at me suspiciously.

So here's how the mind of a four year old works. Two days ago he asked me when does Santa come? In the middle of the night. No, when? Oh, in December, not for several more months. nothing further was forthcoming, so I didn't ask what he was thinking about. The next day he had a chat with daddy; "I've asked everyone, you, mommie, the sitter, Mira (our cleaning lady), and Anthony (the doorman/porter he loves) where the boxes are going, and nobody knows." This morning he was showing our newest box creation to the play therapist for the little guy when I heard him explaining, "We have a Bad Santa that comes and takes my boxes in the middle of the night, no one sees him. I'm trying to stay up to catch him, but I haven't. It is not the Good Santa that comes in December."

Okay, this is going to bite me in the butt someday, but for now, I'm letting Bad Santa take the blame.

Birthday Party Thoughts

In the last 10 days we have been to 3 birthday parties for four year olds. These are not necessarily the parties I love, but hey, I'm working from home so I'll take the opportunity to interact with adults.

The parties this week have been the spectrum you see in NYC. One was at home in a tiny apartment with the right number of kids (~8), but too many parents. No structure (other than the mandatory pizza delivery and cake at the end of the allotted time). The kids just played with toys while helium balloons floated about. The second was the "all in" at a local gym with a crew of 6-8 people to herd a group of 30 kids through the gym; tumbling, trampoline, rock climbing wall, dancing, etc. Then we were escorted to the "food room" where the mandatory pizza and cake was served, along with rhythmic chanting singing about the b.day celebrity. These official places never allow alcohol. Finally, the last was the in between; at a home, but they had just bought the apartment next door which was empty and it was in that space. Kids could draw on the walls, play with toys or do the activities offered (games and story time) before sitting down on the floor for pizza and cup cakes. At all the parties, my boys left with a goody bag of toys they broke in 10 minutes and candy they devoured in 5, but most importantly without all the energy with which they arrived, which helps bed time.

Tonight I offer a list of things I enjoy most at kids b.day parties:
- there should be alcohol for the adults. It should be obvious and refilled regularly.
- there should be extra people there to watch the babies vs. the herd of trampling kids.
- I don't mind dancing/running with the kids, if I don't have to take my shoes off.
- If I have to take my shoes off, so should the host.
- If activities for the kids aren't offered, then helmets should be.
- I would like to ban big pizza slices. If the kids can't hold them on their own, then expect the floor to get messy.
- cupcakes rule; if you don't bake, ask someone who does (i.e., I made the ones in the photo and I was thrilled to help out!) the store ones suck - they are all frosting and food coloring that oddly stains little faces.
- if Daddies attend, they should be in charge of watching the kids because the mommies really are desperate to chat with one another about things other than sports.
- if a child is standing on anything other than the floor, it should be reminded that it should be on the floor
- expect tears, from the kids, maybe mommies.
- ditch the "group " photo idea
- ban all games that involve sticks or ropes
- obvious tissues and garbage cans in every room
- departure gift bags should not include sticky or hard candy
- I don't mind bringing gifts, but I also don't mind when the request is to only bring books, but the kids get angry if they can't bring/receive a present.
- whomever is closest to the kid with snot, wipes.
- juice boxes rule.

I've not followed all my suggestions, but I continue to hope to do better.

Coping, Growing Up

Not sure if I'm thinking about me or DS1. I was going to write about what a great boy he was recently when we went to the dentist and I was impressed by his willingness to go through a not so pleasant experience because, I said we need to do "this". He stayed focused on the TV they had in the room, which was playing cartoons with which he was unfamiliar. His devotion to the TV was clearly his way of coping with the moment. There were strange noises, sounds and the weird sensation of things going on in his mouth.

Lately, I'm worried about the future, in a totally vague way. The consulting business is in reality going great, I have clients signing up, I have proposals out, I have continued opportunities to meet with companies. It is happening. But I have a coping mechanism of trying to make sure that I'm organized, meeting companies and getting work. Not a bad coping mechanism, in reality. I love the consulting projects that have come my way so far. Definitely brain food. It is using what I know, but making me stretch and giving me the opportunity to learn new things.

The toy business is slowly creeping along, but I will have product in a few short weeks (like 6-8). But I don't know what I'm doing. I know finance, I know I'm not spending a ton of money. But marketing, retailing, creating a "presence" for the product (on the cheap) is all new. Something fun and new is exciting, but it is frustratingly on the back burner as I move the consulting business forward.

The boys are awesome. I learn from them, from interacting with them, more about myself daily. It is unbelievable that I still have so much to learn about myself. How did I make it this far knowing so little? The job change is giving me much more time with the boys, which is likely spurring my coping mechanism of trying to secure work, spurring my personal development, giving me back day dreams of creating a future which I lost some time ago. Again, not a bad thing. But it is weird not really having time "off". I'm always on looking for work, thinking about who to call, ways to pitch, the future. It is new, it is unfamiliar. It is terrifyingly-exciting.

EBay motivated by Chinese New Year

Did you know you can sell anything on EBay? I didn't and now I'm rather excited about it!

Last weekend I started cleaning closets. Motivated by Chinese New Year. While its been too cold to drag the boys to Chinatown, I'll likely make a trip myself this week and pick up dragons, red scrolls (the ones from San Fran are already up) and other assorted Chinese New Year stuff (I also have yet to break out the dragon kite we picked up when we picked up DS2). There are a few Chinese New Year traditions I really like; (1) you must clean to celebrate the New Year so the bad spirits leave, (2) also use firecrackers or bang pots, which the boys will do at some point to get the spirits movint and (3) the house should be filled with aspicious flowers. With these, you start the year in order and attract good fortune.

I also like that Chinese New Year is a celebration for 2 weeks. The Chinese take the celebration very serious. The manufacturing shuts down and everyone heads off to be with family. Even my new toy production is suspended for two weeks as my factor is shut for the holiday. It oddly makes me happy that I'm supporting the leave for the New Year and not imposing Western scheduling. I like that there is two weeks to think about attracting good fortune and clearing out the muck.

So, I attacked the closets in the order of those that I could no longer enter. I guess you need a slight explanation. We live in a pre-war building, built in 1938. (another day I might explain the ghost of Marge, the prior tenant that I quite like) Prior to WWI, apartments in NYC had closets. During the war, it was decided that the richest people had the most closets; a tax was enacted inwhich you paid according to how many closets you had. In NYC apartment buildings built in the 20 years post WWI had no closets. Thus one of the attractions to pre-War.

We have closets; 2 in the boys room, 2 in our room, 3 in the entry/pantry and an emergency exit we have coverted into the broom closet. All are walk-in closets. When I can't walk into a closet, it is really overflowing or completely messy. Ours was a combination of both. And a DH that is unable to throw anything out, so I do it when him and the boys are not looking.

Well, it was time for the crib, the bassenet, our first stroller (with basenet attachment), a play "yard" (yeah, these were politically incorrectly called "play pens" when I was growing up), and assorted bibs and burp clothes that I thought I'd give away (Nicole expect a package). DH eyes lit up, it all went on Ebay, and today it all sold for >$1,000! I love to give things to charity, but hey, we got some folks got a good deal on some high end stuff that we abused for 2-3 years that is bringing back in about half their value, and I'm not yet bringing in an income. All good!

So, Happy New Year! And I've just listed some Gucci rain boots that I bought in a moment of peer pressure that I've only worn four times!

Foster Care Update

I generally have come to grips with the fact that I won't know much about my sons first two years of life. But then I suddenly received word through the mommy network that he was in foster care. I contacted the group that organized it, and it is true, they sent me photos of him with his foster family in China. The parents look happy, DS2 looks in shock as he does in most all of his early photos. They are an older couple, I would guess professional foster parents.

This is a good thing; him having had foster care. I am grateful, but it is still the birth mother that sits in my consciousness, not as much the foster family. But, the foster family is doing a great thing, and I know my son is not easy, so he was likely not terribly easy on them either! But gaining knowledge of this event late, knowledge of his foster care that is, creates a need to reexamine early assumptions, early dialog, and creates a lack of trust in having known anything. And yes, its a pisser, I'm mad that there is so little information! Does it ever go away?

I have photos of him with the family pre-lip surgery (which was followed by palette surgery 7 months later). Typically kids are only returned to the orphanage within a few weeks of our adopting him. But the organization that had sponsored his foster care can't even confirm the exact foster dates. Additionally, I reached out to our adoption agency, and they are shocked to learn that he was in foster care this much, let alone at all. The photos are taken at the orphanage on his monthly visits, only a few photos, not from every monthly visit.

It is this re-examination of all our assumptions that is interesting. I told DS2 that DS1 had lived with a family before us and that it was a surprise to me, but a good thing. It was a Chinese family and that I had a photo of them together. "I thought tonight we could all look at it" I said. DS1 responded, "Don't show it to him. He'll want to go back to China and live with them." Breaks my heart, but I responded, "I don't think so. I think he wants to be with us now, but I think he also might be happy to see the people from his past." Together we showed him the photo. DS2 smiles, he is happy to see them. He points at himself and say his name. I ask who are the others, he says "Mama, Baba" . He keeps the photo for quite some time.

It is weird to hear your son call someone else Mama. DS1 never called the sitter anything but her name and she's been with us for almost four years. DS2 calls the sitter her name. But to hear him call the Chinese Foster mom called mama is a weird sensation. It doesn't make me sad, it doesn't necessarily make me happy. It is just a bit interesting/weird. It is generally ok.

DS1 was glad DS2 didn't want to return to China. DS2 likes to look at the photo every time I show it to him. DH is just pissed that there is such a lack of information and thinks there is a conspiracy to keep us in the dark. I'm adjusting to the changed reality. I'm rewriting the story I tell the boys, DS1 asks to hear it, but I view this all as practice for when DS2 starts asking. And now six months post adoption, I think it is time to start building the adoption scrap book for DS2. And to build the book for me. This is our changed reality. We are together now. It was the path unexpected by all.

P.S. If you wish to sponsor foster care for a child, please visit www.altrusa.ws. When my toy hits the market in April, you'll hear more about where a portion of the profits are going.

Adoption on Vacation - part 2

DS1 had a complete melt down at breakfast, that was really beyond belief; three neighboring tables commented on it.  So bad that I cancelled our zip-lining for the day.  Of course this general stress put DS2 in a stressed way which means, every time he got near me he pulled my hair, bit or tried to scratch me, in his attempt to make sure... I don't know what.... I still love him?  

Then we are on a beach, and a very nice woman in the umbrella beside us starts asking questions.  Yes, adoption questions.  Part of this is my husband beams to anyone in ear shot that we recently adopted.  I'm totally polite, but I'm having a rough day.  Then we go to lunch, up in the beach restaurant, where both boys are just bad. Hitting each other, throwing sand.  I get back to the chair, with fussy toddler.  I wash the sand off, wrap him in a towel, and hold him till he falls asleep, which is about 5 minutes as he is now two hours past his nap time.  

The neighbor lady say to me, "So how's it going? Has it worked out like you thought?"  Sometimes people really don't know what they are asking, who they are asking it of and/or what appropriate timing is.  I turned to her, a bit like the little girl in the exorcist, and said, "This is f---ing hell.  I don't know what I was thinking.  I'm sure it will get better, but it really sucks and I'm not sure I can wait till he starts speaking before losing my mind."  This surprisingly, didn't bring forth the usual "bless you" or smile.  However, the lady was kind and was supportive.  We chatted for a while.  Then she asked why I adopted.  

Usual story, no need, wanted to give a kid a home and thought I had the home and heart to offer.   Then I  told her about the "god bless you"s and that I didn't do it to do a good deed.  That I'm shocked at what we are into, but we are still in the early stages and adding a toddler to a family with a toddler isn't easy.  We chatted about the lack of physical development in DS2 that I believe we have already started to overcome, that I think he is really smart, but just lazy in the language department, because (1) he's expressive without language and (2) I'm in-tune with him enough to anticipate 95% of the requests.  But its the last 5% that causes the tantrums and the frustration.  She then told me she understood why I didn't like the "God bless you"s and that I'm right, this is like the frustration raising kids, adopted or not.  I asked if she was religious, and she said, "Honey, I'm a minister." OUCH!  

Then she told me I should write about this experience, because people need to know its not simple, easy, or love at first sight for everyone.  So, if I can face a minister head on with my diatribes and not offend, then I feel a bit better about this blog.