To Ski or Not to Ski

Kelsey called the other night. She was somewhere where there is snow and is skiing for a brief pre-Christmas vacation. From the sound of it, she was liking the sitting around reading part more than the actual skiing part, kind of like what I would be doing if forced to go somewhere really cold where people strap skis on their feet and hurl themselves down mountains.

"Can I take our daughter skiing?" Arny asked after he got off the phone with Kelsey. "Awwwwww, that's so sweet" I said. "Of course you can take her skiing". Like he needs my permission, but that's what I love about him - he asks these things. "Will you come with us?" he said. "Oh No!!!!" I thought, picturing being carried off the kiddy slope being surrounded by 5 year olds asking "why was the old lady on our slope, anyway?". But, being the agreeable person I am said feebly "OK". I figure I have a couple of years to come up with a really good excuse....or, enough courage to actually do it.

Horoscope for December 20

Daily Sagittarius Forecast:

You'll soon get word from someone in a distant land. They want you to come visit!

Parental Toys

Sometime after the Toys"R"us adventure, Arny and I discussed the whole subject of toys and decided we would only buy for our child what we would want to play with. Not what we would have wanted to play with when we were one year old, but what we would play with now. Hence the Fisher Price alphabet blocks listed on our baby registry. Those things are so cool..I digress.

Shortly after that, we received the Hammacher Schlemmer catalog, a cornucopia of adult toys, and we both found things we wanted - me, a race track, with little tiny Formula One cars and over 35 feet of track, and him, a flying remote control helicopter. Instant Christmas presents!!! Yes, we decided those would be our Christmas presents to each other. Except, my birthday happens to be December 12th (for all of you who knew and forgot, shame....) and Arny was so excited about the race track, he decided to buy it for my birthday present instead.

It is now set up and taking up our entire living room area - we have to step through and around it to get anywhere, but we are having loads of fun. It is a real test of the stability of one's marriage to jointly put together a track with 5 zillion pieces and not kill each other:

"Honey, pass me an "e" piece?"
"sure sweetie, just tell me which is the "e" piece"
"it's like the "d" piece, but shorter"
"ok, but what does the "d" piece look like"
"it's right there on the instructions"
"they look the same to me"
"here, use this one"
"are you sure this is the right piece"
"close enough"

Ok, so we had to put it together twice, but it works. But alas, it will only stay up until we leave to bring home the baby. Why, you ask? Because, silly us, we forgot about the choking hazard present with something that has 5 zillion pieces - some of which are quite small. Poo!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Perhaps I'll have to go out and get those alphabet blocks a little early....

My Bible

Le Chapeau - part deux

Anonymous is one smart cookie...

"Sometimes I feel that my life is a series of trapeze swings. I'm either hanging onto a trapeze bar swinging along or, for a few moments, I'm hurtling across space in between bars. Most of the time I'm hanging on for dear life to my trapeze bar of the moment. It carries me along at a certain steady rate of swing and I have the feeling that I'm in control of my life. I know most of the right questions and even some of the right answers. But once in a while as I'm merrily swinging along, I look ahead of me into the distance and I see another bar swinging towards me. It's empty and I know, in that place in me that knows, that this new trapeze bar has my name on it. It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me. In my heart-of- hearts, I know that for me to grow, I must release my grip on the present, well-known bar to move to the new one.

Each time it happens, I hope and pray that I won't have to grab the new trapeze bar. But in my knowing place I realize that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar and for sometime I must hurtle across space before I can grab onto the new bar. Each time I am filled with terror. It doesn't matter that in all my previous hurtles across the void of unknowing, I have always made it. Each time I am afraid I will miss -that I will be crushed on unseen rocks in the bottomless chasm between the bars. But I do it anyway. Perhaps this is the essence of what the mystics call the faith experience. No guarantees, no net, no insurance policy, but you do it anyway because somehow, to keep hanging onto that old bar is no longer an alternative. And so for an eternity that can last a microsecond or a thousand lifetimes, I soar across the dark void of "the past is gone, the future is not yet here." It is called transition. I have come to believe that it is the only place that real change occurs.

I have noticed that in our culture this transition zone is looked upon as a nothing - a no-place between places. Surely the old trapeze bar was real and that new one coming towards me, I hope that's real, too. But the void in between? That's just a scary, confusing, disorienting "nowhere" that must be gotten through as fast and as unconsciously as possible. What a waste! I have a sneaking suspicion that the transition zone is the only real thing, and that the bars are illusions we dream up to avoid the void where the real change, the real growth, occurs for us. Whether or not my hunch is true, it remains that the transition zones in our lives are incredibly rich places. They should be honored - even savored. Even with all the pain and fear and feelings of being out-of-control that can accompany transitions, they are still the most alive, most growth filled, most passionate, most expansive moments in our lives."

And so, transformation of fear may have nothing to do with making fear go away, but rather with giving ourselves permission to "hang out" in the transition between trapeze bars. Transforming our need to grab that new bar...any bar...is allowing ourselves to dwell in the only place where change really happens. It can be terrifying. It can also be enlightening, in the true sense of the word. Hurtling through the void --we just may learn how to fly.

--Anonymous

A poem

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.

If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.

by Dorothy Nolte, from her book "Children Learn What They Live: Parenting to Inspire Values".

Clothes, Clothes and more Clothes......

Love this hand-me-down thing!!!!

Thank you Melissa and Molly!

Making Applesauce

I was on the phone with my friend Gayle, who has two daughters Lydia, 4 and Adaline, 1. We were talking about the daycare center she recommended and that Arny and I visited a couple of weeks ago. The kids were home because of election day and and while we were talking, I could hear them in the background. Gayle was making applesauce and the girls were doing some sort of art project. Addie started to cry, partially because she got her hand caught and partially because her big sister was not paying her enough attention. I could hear Gayle picking her up because the crying got louder...much louder. Previously, I would have done the "gotta go" thing, as the sound of a crying baby was not one of my favorites. Instead, I felt a pull at the other end of the phone that made me wish I was the one there to comfort her. We continued talking, or I should say, I listened as Gayle did the comforting........and still I felt that pull........what was it? ..................mmmmmmmm.........I do believe it was "maternal instinct" kicking in........................

She's Out There

Today I realized for the first time....She is out there waiting for us. Actually, it was my friend Julie, who I have known since I was six and is almost as excited about the adoption as we are who mentioned it. We were on the phone and she said "only a few more months and you'll see her". "Yeah, yeah, yeah", I thought to myself rather nonchalantly. You see, now there is only waiting. No filling out forms, no writing checks, no fingerprint appointments. Just waiting. There is nothing to do so there is nothing to say. People keep asking, "what's happening?". "Nothing". "Any news?". "No". "Any word?". "Nothing". Nothing, nothing, nothing, just waiting........and waiting..........................and waiting.

But then, after we hung up, I started thinking. I started calculating. They refer children no younger than 6 months and we are expecting our referral in March, and well, that's 4 months away.

Oh my God, she's out there!! Waiting. Hopefully snuggling in her crib right now, belly full and warm, dreaming of things that will make her wake with a smile. Does she sense we are waiting to come for her? Does she realize how many people here can't wait to meet her? Does she have a clue how crazy we are and how much fun she will have eating ice cream and pretzels (my favorite) for dinner? As I wonder, there's a tug on my heart........

Halloween: A Conspiracy

It is. I truly believe this. A consortium of diet industry executives got together and figured the whole thing out. I imagine, it went something like this....

Bob: You know, we have done a pretty good job of brainwashing the entire world on their need to diet in order to a) be happy, b) be successful, c) get the man/woman of our dreams, d) make lots of money, e) fit into the dress you wore at your high school prom 20 years ago. What we really need now is that failsafe way to insure that in the slight chance all of the crap we advertise actually works and people really do loose weight, people will still gain weight and need to diet.

Jim: I know!! - let's invent a holiday where once a year, little kids dress up and go around asking for candy. Adults will have to buy this candy and they will swear not to touch it. But, ha ha ha, they will not be able to resist!!!!!!!!!!

Carole: Yes, but it will have to be a multi-tiered approach. It isn't good enough just to keep it in the home. We have to expand....

Bob: Right you are Carole, let's encourage people to bring the extra candy into the office.

Jim: Excellent idea, Bob. That way, we get all those people without kids who may think they are safe if they keep their door locked and lights off during the night, so they don't have to deal with the whole "candy buy".

Carole: And, with the holiday season fast approaching, those extra pounds will have to come off fast. This will make all of our "superfast" diet programs that much more desirable.

Jim: We're good.

Carole: Yes, we are.

Bob: Let's celebrate. Outback's having their all you can eat buffet..

Carole: I'm there!!!!!!!!!!!!

Toys"R"Us Update

I discussed my theories about Toys"R" us with Arny, and thinking going into a toy store with a small child and buying them toys is fun, has volunteered to take on this responsibility.


I am thrilled...............................................................
.............if only he felt the same way about changing poopy diapers.

Toys"R"Us...........why??

Today during lunch I walked over the the Toys"R"Us store in Times Square. Now you may be wondering why, as a seasoned New Yorker, I would put myself in the middle of Times Square on a Wednesday - matinee day, with a zillion people, most of whom have cameras and are standing in the middle of the crosswalk looking up. Not just in the middle of Times Square, but in the middle of the Times Square Toys"R"Us, a store so big it has a full sized, working ferris wheel in it. And I don't even have a child, yet. Call me crazy, I just wasn't thinking. I had to buy a gift card for a friend who just had a baby - a bunch of people contributed and I volunteered to get it. What was I thinking??

You will be pleased to know I did manage to get in and out without running over any pint sized tourists, but I got to wondering: is it possible to get through your child's childhood without ever actually going into that store with your child. Do they really have to know it exists? When you walk by, could you hold your hand over your childs eyes and start playing peek-a-boo? Could you throw out all of the circulars that come in the Sunday paper so they don't see the funny looking giraffe selling all those funny looking toys? If they do see the store, could you make some excuse like "no honey, it's not a real store, it's only a pretend store". Would that work and if so, for how long?

Anabelle, Ami, Alexandra, Ariana, Amiana.........

Ella Rose, Katherine, Elizabeth, Isabelle, Charlotte, Samantha, Tara, Raven........
Raven????!!!???? I don't think so.

Out of Control

I am. Not. In. Control.

Yesterday we received a letter from our agency stating that our log in date (date our translated dossier is logged in at the Chinese Center for Adoption Affairs) is July 27, 2005. To say I am disappointed is an understatement. Our Dossier to China date was June 24 and it seems that the time frame FOR ALMOST EVERYONE ELSE is about 3 weeks from that date to the LID. Ours is about 5 weeks from DTC and I spent a portion of last night trying to figure out why. There is no answer.
I am.
Not.
In.
Control.

2 weeks may not be a big deal. Or it could be. Referrals are running about 7 months from LID. This puts us at end of February for one. I thought we would get one the end of January. We still could. But it's hard. Waiting to find out. Because.
I am.
Not.
In.
Control.

The whole process of adoption is made up of waiting. Waiting for paperwork, waiting for approvals, waiting for appointments. Waiting for dates. I fill out the forms, send the forms.
And wait.
And wait. And wait. And while I am waiting,
I am.
Not.
In.
Control.

I know this and devised a little game to gain some control (in my mind only). I estimate when things will happen and somehow the estimation becomes, in my mind, fact.
I know this is wrong.
I can't help it.
When someone is pregnant, they wait 9 months too. But their baby is right there inside them. They can talk to them, they can sense when something may not be right. My child is out there somewhere and I can't stand it that I will be kept from her any longer than necessary - even if it is only 2 weeks or a month. Who is taking care of her? Are they doing a good job? Is she cold? Is she hungry? Is she happy? Will she know that
I am.
Not.
In.
Control.

This is the Hat

This is the hat that Jennifer made.

This is the hat that Jennifer made after Jennifer made the hat that looked like a frisbee.

This is the hat that Jennifer made after Jennifer made the hat that looked like a frisbee, which made Arny laugh histerically as Jennifer ripped apart the frisbee.

This is the hat that Jennifer made after Jennifer made the hat that looked like a frisbee, which made Arny laugh histerically as Jennifer ripped apart the frisbee; after she made the hat that looked like one of those seashells with the ridges.

This is the hat that Jennifer made after Jennifer made the hat that looked like a frisbee, which made Arny laugh histerically as Jennifer ripped apart the frisbee; after she made the hat that looked like one of those seashells with the ridges, which made Arny laugh as she ripped out the seashell.

This is the hat that Jennifer made after Jennifer made the hat that looked like a frisbee, which made Arny laugh histerically as Jennifer ripped apart the frisbee; after she made the hat that looked like one of those seashells with the ridges, which made Arny laugh as she ripped out the seashell. after she made the hat that looked like.................well, I don't know what the hell it looked like; only it certainly didn't look like a hat and Arny laughed.

Well, he's not laughing now!!!!!

Ladybugs

Not that I believe in all of the ladybug crap, but I want to go on the record as having seen one on Saturday, August 20th.

I can, I can!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is a test, part 2

I understand that China has been blocking access to blog sites. Since the whole point of this blog is so interested parties can follow along on our trip, this could create a problem. I read I can email an entry and it will show up on the blog. So this is a test to see if I can email a blog entry

Practicing

When Arny and I went to our first meeting with Rabbi Renee, the rabbi performing our wedding, I cried as she read various passages she might include in the ceremony. I apologized for the leaky eyes and was embarrassed that I couldn't hold it together. I thought "how am I going to make it through the actual ceremony if I can't even listen to her read sitting at her dining room table?". I vowed I was not going to be a basket case at my own wedding, so I practiced. She sent the draft of the "script" and I would sit in front of the computer, reading and crying. Over and over I would read, until I could get through the entire thing without a tear.

It worked. The night of the ceremony, not a tear fell (at least as far as I can remember).

Now I am practicing again. The phone call, saying our child is ours, the day we meet our child for the first time- I constantly imagine how each will go. And I cry; on the subway, waiting for the subway, in the elevator, walking down the street. First my eyes tear up and I quickly start thinking of something else. Sometimes it works, but most of the time at least one tear makes it down my cheek. I wipe it away and pretend nothing has happened. I have about 7 months to go. I wonder if that will be enough time???

Further Adventures in Food

mmmm, mmmmm, good!!

kind of kiwi like....

Adventures in Food

This is a DragonFruit. Scary, huh?

I was walking through Chinatown today and saw a pile of them sitting on a fruitseller's cart. Remembering Pam's talk yesterday about trying this amazing fruit at the Great Wall, I just stood by the cart and stared for awhile. Now, I wasn't sure if this is what she had or not, but it looked interesting. As I was thinking I ought to be adventurous and expand my fruit repetoire, the vender looked at me said "you want?" I said "how do you eat it". He replied very patiently, this being Sunday and me being just one more caucasion tourist out for a little culinary adventure, "you peel it, like a banana - very sweet". "How bad could it be" I thought and $2 later, I was walking away holding my little dragonfruit, ready for my first taste of mystery fruit.

On the way home with my fruit and several bags of ginger candy, which I have developed a liking for, I passed a "Celebrate Chinatown" street fair. The vendors were mostly for services like healthcare and banking in the neighborhood, so I was more interested in the stores than the fair. I passed a beef jerky store that I have to tell my cousin Woody about. He made it once (and I actually ate it - it really wasn't bad). Right next to the beef jerky store was a dumpling house which claimed their dumplings were just as good as Joe's Shanghai. Next time Kelsey and Jed are in town, we will have to find out for ourselves.

Finally, nearing the end of the festival I started hearing the song "Celebrate" by KC and the Sunshine Band. What they were doing playing this at a Chinese festival I don't know, but following the sound I came to a stage where about 25 older chinese women, lined up in rows all wearing yellow t-shirts were doing some sort of line dance, awkwardly but most enthusiastically dancing to the music. I almost started crying it was so funny.

Waiting Family

Yes, that is what we are now.
Waiting.
A waiting family.
We went to a meeting for all of the waiting families with our agency. Some still had the paperwork to fill out and others had gotten their referrals. We met a couple, David and Ann, who just got theirs last week. They had the referral pictures with them and were proudly showing them off. Ann and I had a lot in common; mostly we both tear up over just about anything having to do with adoption. The two of us were sitting there with tears filling our eyes and then spilling over as the director spoke of her recent trip to China and showed us all pictures of CCAA officials and the piles of dossiers waiting to be logged in. Ours was one of them. Ann and I laughed about it as we cried. Pam passed around a sample of the referral paperwork we will get - pages of information on our child; health, abilities, likes, dislikes, habits. Ann and I laughed more as the tears fell.

Arny is used to the tears by now. Whenever he sees me sitting at the computer or reading a book and wiping away tears, he says with a sympathetic look, "you're reading adoption stuff, arent' you?". "Yes", I reply, wiping away the tears. I just can't help it.

4th of July

As I stood next to Arny watching the fireworks down by the Hudson River, I couldn't help but think "next year, we will be watching with our child". Will she like seeing the colorful explosions? She probably never saw them before. Will she be scared? Maybe she will be sitting on Arny's shoulders (he's the tall one). I looked around at the other people. There were families on the grass, finishing up their picnics and watching while the children were running around. Will she be running too? As each holiday passes I think, "next year........."

DTC

That's adoption talk for "Dossier to China". We just heard from our agency confirming ours went on June 24, 2005. It will be translated and then logged into the system at CCAA, the Chinese adoption agency, where it will slowly move from the review room to the matching room..

No one really knows what goes on there, but there are rumors abound. Some say they scan your pictures into a computer and try to match up parents and children that have similar characteristics. I'm not sure if that's true or not, but just to be sure, I refused to send Arny's official passport picture which made him look like a drug crazed serial killer. You see, in addition to the regular pictures (full body shots, picture of "the baby's room", front of apartment building, playgrounds, etc), we had to send two passport sized pictures for use with the documents. I called the agency to see if they had to be official passport pictures. Luckily they didn't. I took some pictures in the apartment where he didn't look drug crazed or killer like and sent those.

The whole picture thing becomes an obsession. You are required to send pictures of you and your home, so the Chinese officials can get a sense of who you are and the kind of environment you live in. For example, you need a picture of where the baby will sleep. Now, if you have a house and an extra room and have already completely furnished the room, which some people have done, the Chinese officials will get a clear sense of the "baby's room". If, like us, you live in a NYC apartment, you have a room, fully furnished with not a stitch of baby furniture and you throw some stuffed animals (taken from work) on the trundle bed and take a picture of that with a caption "the crib will go here". And then you stand there thinking "where am I going to put all this stuff?" Ahhh, the wonders of apartment living!!

Tears

My vision got blurry as she handed me my documents. I left the window and made my way to one of the hard plastic chairs and sat. What is wrong with me? I am about to cry all because some very professional Chinese woman sitting behind a glass partition handed me all of my thirteen documents fully authorized by the Chinese Consulate. It's official. These thirteen documents are what is going to bring me my child. I am that much closer to motherhood. Wow.

"True"

Whoever thought one little word could cause so much angst? True - it's a nice word. Short, easy to spell - a noble word.

Keep in mind that I have a book full of instructions for the mountains of paperwork that has to be collected and everything has to be done just so. One little omission in any one of the many pieces that make up the official "dossier" can cause a delay in an already too long wait for our child. We received the last piece, the I171H, which had to be copied on legal size paper notorized, certified, apostiled and then stamped by the Chinese consulate. Since it is a copy, " This is a true and authentic copy of an original document" must be written on it, before it is signed in front of a notary.

So, early Monday morning I walk to the courthouse, stopping on the way to make my "copy on legal size paper". I walk up to the counter, to the same woman, Michelle, who helped me on Friday and hand her the paper, telling her I need it notorized and certified. She looks at it and says "you have to take off the true". I say "what?". She says " I can't notorize it with the true". "what?".... evil look (from her, not me. Not that I didn't want to give her a dirty look, but she held my notorization in the palm of her hand, so I had to be very, very pleasant)....."But, my agency says that's what has to be on it" She rolls her eyes. As I pull out the extra copy and write " This is an authentic copy of an original document" I am picturing a chinese official somewhere in China rejecting us as parents because "true" isn't there.

Now this may sounds really obsessive, I know because I am reading this thinking, Jennifer, this is really obsessive. But, trust me it's not. After 3 sets of fingerprints, mounds of forms filled out just so, well. It. Is. Not. Obsessive.

dream part 2

Had another dream last night. She was small - maybe 6 months old with a head full of dark, shiny hair. I came into the room and she was lying on a bunch of very soft fluffy sheets that were gathered all around her. She was smiling. She was happy. I woke up. I was smiling. I was happy.

We got the I171H yesterday which means the US immigration department has approved us bringing an orphan into the country. I did my little happy dance when I got the envelope which made Arny smile. Seeing the words "Notice of Favorable Determination Concerning Application for Advance processing of Orphan Petition" and "Your advance processing application has been forwarded to the American Consulate or Embassy at Guangzhou, China (approval for 1 child)" made it real. I am going to be a mom.

We spent the rest of the night discussing names and actually started a list: Alexandra, Amanda and Emily. We won't decide until we get the referral picture. We could after all be referred a boy and while Alexandra could easily be changed to Alexander, Amanda or Emily would cause all sorts of problems.

This is a test

I just figured out how to add a picture...this is cool......

Dreaming

I had my first baby dream last night. She was a tiny little thing with a full head of shiny black hair. Sometimes she was crawling and at other times she was walking and sometimes running. We were on a lush lawn and my mother was with me and we were dealing with the bedding; laying it out on the grass. The bedding was this pretty patchwork pattern that I saw on a baby website that afternoon. I lost sight of the baby at one point and started looking for her. She was running around and then she was in my arms.

At some point in the dream, I started seeing flying insects and then all of a sudden Arny appeared in the dream....to deal with the bugs, of course.

Beginning

I sat.
Waiting.
Waiting for the doctor to see me. As I waited, I looked around at all of the other women.
Waiting.
Waiting for the doctor to solve the problem.
Of fertility.
No one smiled. Everyone sat seriously, waiting to be called.
By the doctor.
To solve the problem.

I knew this waiting room well. I came and waited. Waited for the blood tests to be taken. Waited for the sonogram. Waited for the hormonal levels to be read. Waited for the doctor. I was getting tired of waiting.

All of a sudden, a noise broke the tense silence. I looked up. Everyone looked at the source of the noise. It was a child, about three years old, looking for her mother. "mommy" she cried as she ran to the woman she belonged to.

My heart sank.
Fast.
I would never hear that word.
"mommy"
I died, just a little.
Right there, sitting on the modular sofa.
I died.
"Jennifer" I heard. My name. The doctor was ready. But I was not. I was not ready to hear that I would never hear that word.
"There is a problem" she said, clinically, but compassionately.
"Your levels, they are erratic. You could still try. You could come back (again!!) on day 3 to get your levels checked and we could keep doing this, and......................................................................................................and, and, and...I don't want to hear and!!!!"there are other ways.....drugs, you would have to inject yourself"....No, no, or........................an egg......someone else's egg"...........NO, NO, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not for me.

As I left the office, I walked. As I walked, I kept thinking, I will never hear that word................
"Mommy, mommy, mommy".............

I will never be a mother.

I thought back to a few nights before when Arny and I had talked. We talked and talked and talked. I wanted a child. I wanted a child with Arny because he is a great father. His kids probably don't recognize it a lot of the time, but I hear how he talks to them. Ha, he actually talks to them. About important things. He explains. He cares. He hates to hear them hurt or upset. He tries to protect them. I want to share that with him. With our child. It was good, talking. He brought it up. Adoption. I hadn't thought about it. I was caught up in the whole pregnancy, "have to have a child to be a mother" motherhood thing. I was actually surprised that he did bring it up, but it hit me.

Right there.

I want to be a mother.

I don't need to "have" a baby to be a mother.

I could hear that word after all.......................mommy, mommy, mommy..........................

and so, it begins...........................................