Holiday Hell

Man, today was rough!

1. Using my new chef's knife Rachael Ray style, I almost sliced off my right pinky. Let's just say I filleted it, and it is continuing to seep as the rest of my finger turns bluish-purple. Still. 12 hours later. Yes, I know I should've had a stitch or at least some of that human super glue stuff, but no. I didn't realize how much you use your pinkies when you type.
2. I have to make a big decision. C's mom has another child, who's only a year old. She has asked us to help out with him while she's recuperating from her next surgery. She has no family willing to help, and her best friend just said no. I don't know if I can do it for many, many reasons I can't discuss here.
3. Said bio mom came to my parents picnic with said baby. It was hard, not because of the baby, he's a baby, what's not to like? C on the other hand has assumed the "mommy" role because she's doing the bulk of the lifting. It's nerve-wracking and frustrating, plus she's really annoying about it. I guess that's one reason I am discussing here.
4. B and I were talking about this as we were leaving my parents, and I backed my Sorento into my father-in-law's new Chevy Trailblazer. Big crunch, but no major damage. My truck barely has a scratch. We have decided to get an estimate and go from there.
5. I had to come home and write a paper that was due on a freaking holiday. The hell?

How Bizarre

I just noticed that in the picture of B and me and in the picture of Elliot, they are holding their heads the same way. B is way cuter!

Here's the Deal, Pickle

So, B and I made this big trek to D.C., went through the harrowing process of fighting with the State Dept, relyied on strangers, and all-in-all had a pretty good weekend. I mean, we had fun, I got a Nine West purse for 12 bucks, and we ate really good Italian and really bad Mexican food.
Well, amidst all of this fun, we didn't realize was that we took 2 copies of B's police clearance reports and none of mine. Basically, when CCAI got our dossier, it was one document short. Plus, they wanted more pictures of us with friends and family.
Pictures I could do - that's easy I have a new camera. Getting that document authenticated was another story. Prior to crying tears of frustration and embarrassment, I called our dossier rep Amanda who confirmed the news and led me in the direction of an Adoption courier. Now, I really wasn't sure if I wanted to trust a stranger with our precious cargo, but what choice did I have?
I contacted Laura of The Assistant Stork, and she took care of us. Although it cost us a little more, she had it taken care of in less than a week. As of yesterday, CCAI has the last of our dossier documents, and I hopefully can say we are in critical review. My hopes for being DTC in May are shot, but my DTC group hasn't kicked me out, so I guess that's okay. Besides, with the wait, what's another week?

Yes, We Are

Just wanted to let everyone know that C, my mom, and I are gonna be on the floor at the September 14 show.

Don't be hatin'

Word of the Day - Antagonize

Well today we found out that C's mom definitely has thyroid cancer. She had surgery on Monday and was told she was cancer free. When she went to have her post-op check-up and have her drain removed, her doctor said, "We were wrong, you do have cancer." So it's a massive radiation treatment and a second surgery. Damn, that sucks.
C's bully situation has escalated over the past few weeks, and we can't wait for school to be out, just to get a break. The problem is, C just can't get it and she antagonizes this one boy and two girls who torture her. She gives as much as she gets. Where they are mean, hateful bullies, she is spazzy and annoying - on purpose. We've tried to work with her on calming down and recognizing that she's being a spaz/annoying/childish, but it's just not clicking. I don't even want to go into how she handled herself this week at After School Care. I won't go into the details; they're too painful for me to type and for you to read.
It's hard for B & me to see her struggle, but for very different reasons. B still sees her as an innocent, precious baby. I see it from a clinical perpective - anxiety inducing plummeting self-esteem that can scar teenage girls into making bad decisions. Before I began working in the field of MR/DD, I was a Family Preservation Specialist and worked with children exclusively for 6 years. I have seen the damage children can do to each other, especially girls her age. I can't separate from this situation the way I could then. This is my child. You can't imagine how thrilled I am that she has one more year of elementary school. The thought of her going to middle school at this maturity level makes me want to puke.

So Long, Farewell...

He deserved to win.

Pictures

B & me in the kitchen a few days ago. I was having a rough day at work, so B fixed me dinner. After, we started goofing around with the camera.









Darwin, my love



I grew this!









This too!

Chubs AKA Evie, my niece AKA
the prettiest baby on the East Coast

Obsessions - Spring

If you've been following along, you'll know I have a tendency to obsess on things I like or love. Well, I have a whole new crop for spring so here they go...

1. My new camera, the Canon PowerShot A430. I have been taking pictures like a crazy woman, but have yet to figure out how to download them. Be prepared, they're coming.
2. Elliot Yamin. In the 5 years I have watched American Idol, I have never voted. This week I did - twice. Before, I really didn't care. With the exception of the Clay Aiken upset (moment of silence here), it was always crystal clear who would win. This time, it's up in the air. I have been sweating it every week in fear that Elliot would be booted. I really want this little guy to win. He's against the odds - he's got that he's-so-homely-he's-cute-but-damn-can-he-sing! thing, a stinkeye, and he's humble. Plus, his mom is his #1 fan. I am not ashamed to admit how happy I was with Wednesday's Chris Daughtry bitch slap.
3. The Office. I was in love with the BBC version, and I bow down to the comedic genius of Ricky Gervais. Nevertheless, the American version has hooked me. The last five minutes of Thursday's season finale killed. I am pretty into Jim and Pam, but nobody does painful, heart-breaking, unrequited love as well as Martin Freeman's Tim in the original. The American version parallels the BBC version pretty well. Dwight rules.
4. Jill Winters. I just finished reading her newest, Lime Ricky, and loved, loved, loved it. Her novels are funny and always have a mystery. Great chick lit. Read.Them.NOW.
5. This blog, Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Novels. Snark at it's finest. I have found kindred spirits, because I, too, am a smart bitch who loves me some trash. I also love their takes on romance novel covers, they are laugh-out-loud funny.
6. School. Spring semester has been out for 2 weeks, and I am so ready to get back in the groove. Who woulda thunk? I am taking one class this summer, Curriculum Development, and I am developing an online professional/continuing education class on classroom management for K-12 teachers with the professor I am praying will be my chair. She wants to work with me and/or have me in class before she agrees. Well, this summer I will be doing both. Wish me luck - she's the one that I want ooh, ooh, ooh, honey!
7. Games Magazine. I have been a fan for years. My favorite puzzle is the Pencil Pointer crossword. It's a big square crossword where the clues are in the puzzle instead of being numbered and each clue can have multiple words. A few years ago Games put out an all Pencil Pointers special edition. I couldn't stop until I finished the whole thing. Every time I go to Books-a-Million I search for another special edition. Keep your fingers crossed.
8. Baby Clothes. B & I discussed timeframes for purchasing while I was molesting this, this and this. I put them back and remembered my vow that I would not buy anything baby until we knew for sure we were going to get Ruby. To him, that means an actual referral. To me, that means a LID. Well, let me tell you it's hard. I glance longingly wherever I go. I try to avoid shopping alone. When I am with someone, it's easier to resist.
9. My upcoming trip to Graceland. I am meeting some epals for the first time for a fun-filled weekend in Memphis. I am excited, but a bit nervous. I am afraid they won't like me, I won't be cool, fun, stylish, etc... When it comes to the China adoption community, there are more times than not that I feel I am on the outside looking in. I am nervous that this will be one of those times.
10. Our dossier. It's out of my hands now and I am scared to death. Enough said.

What is in a Name?

I am really struggling with the whole name thing, and not for the reason most soon-to-be-parents have. From the beginning I have been stuck on the name Ruby. B acquiesced after much browbeating from me. I just love the name, and always have. Even during the dark days of infertility I would think to myself if we have a girl, Ruby; if we have a boy, Oliver. When we discovered we couldn't get pregnant, I chose not to retire the name. Regardless, our daughter would be Ruby. Now I am not so sure.
Lately, everywhere I turn there's a Ruby. It's like that episode of Scrubs where Turk and Carla want to keep their chosen names for their baby a secret.
I totally get it.
I realize that other people like Amy, of Amy and Ruby Cate fame, and this blog are going to name their daughters Ruby if they want. Besides, they are in Massachusetts and Florida respectively, and not in my daughter's class at school. Yet, I just discovered this book and this book which both feature protagonists who are Chinese girls named Ruby. Another blog recently talked about visiting a friend and her daughter, (surprise, surprise) Ruby. It's starting to get to me.
I am torn. I really want our daughter to have a name that is unique, yet not so weird or juvenile that when she has grandchildren, they won't be calling her "Grandma Brittany" or "Grandma Kylie" (sorry to those out there who chose those names, they're just not for us). I need to either get over it or think of something new, which won't be shared outside of B and me. Suggestions? Opinions?

Breathe Again

Ready to go a few rounds with Mother Nature, I hopped puddles and flowing streams of storm water to the post office down the street to overnight 2.5 pounds of hope to Colorado - our dossier documents and photos. While there, I was so overwhelmed and flustered, I forgot to put our photos in with our paperwork. Thankfully, the nice postal worker gently re-opened our packet and let me slide them in. As I was holding the flap closed so he could tape it, he said, "Hey, your hands are shaking." Laughter burst out, and I said, "I'm really excited and a little bit scared." He just smiled and taped my package shut, stamped it, and said, "Don't worry, it'll get there by noon." I didn't explain, there was no need.
Going back to work, I trudged across the city streets amidst the lightening and rain. The wind was so fierce, it blew my umbrella inside out. I got soaked, but I didn't care. I am getting my girl.

We're Gonna Make It After All

We received our package from the Chinese Consulate today. All sixteen documents were authenticated and ready to go. Our goal is to get the dossier to Colorado on Tuesday. We are still pawing through pictures to send, and I have to covertly make copious copies at B's office Monday evening. Hopefully we will be DTC by the end of this month. Hats off! Whoo-hoo!

The Kindness of Strangers

This past weekend B & I hauled our butts to Washington D.C. to knock out three legs of paperchasing, as well as have a little time to ourselves. Because we both work, I go to school, he has a music studio, and we are going to have C full-time for a few weeks, we really wanted some time with just us. And honestly? If this dossier doesn't get to China by the end of this month I truly believe I am going to stroke out and die.
The trip up was pretty non-eventful, so I won't bore anyone with the details. We got to the hotel, which was nice, but nowhere near the Metro station. Yes, I will be calling hotels.com to bitch about that Big Fat Lie.
The next morning we drove to the Metro station, which sucked because we had to buy one-way tickets because of morning commuters. Anyways, we got off the Metro and realized that we have piss-poor directions to the Authentications office. I went up to a very robust Homeland Security guard at a hot-dog stand and asked him for directions. Being a helpful asshole, he basically told me "No, I am not helping you," and turned his back. I guess the call of a greasy hot-dog smothered in onions at 9:30 in the morning was more important than assisting a fellow citizen.
A woman with a huge wig was standing beside him, and when she saw this guy being an asshole, she volunteered to walk us there. We were grateful, and patiently waited while she bought herself a hot-dog and BB-Q corn chips, and then walked several blocks to the Authentications office. We thanked her and she went on her way.
As we walked in, we saw two little girls playing outside in the courtyard where the Authentications office is housed. One was Caucasian and the other was Chinese. We admired their cuteness, walked in, took a number, and waited until we were called. When we handed the worker our packet, she told us that we could only authenticate 15 out of 16 pages. When I asked if I could do 15 and B could do one, she told us "No, you two are together." Okay, by this point I was getting pissed. Hearing me argue with her, a man sitting in the waiting room said, "You know what, I'm not with them. Give it to me, I'll walk it through!" He was pissed on our behalf! I said, "You know, that's a great idea," and started to hand him one of our documents. At this point, the woman said, "I'll talk to my supervisor." Shortly she came back and wiggled her fingers at me. I handed over the document and sweetly said, "Thank you so much."
As we were waiting, B struck up a conversation with two women in the waiting room. One was an adoption courier (she was also the mother of the two little girls) and the other was a professional courier. B told them we were adopting and why we were visiting D.C. After the adoption courier split, B asked the other woman for directions to the Chinese Consulate. The woman began rattling off how to get there. B then asked, "How long do you think it will take us to walk there from here?" Looking shocked, the woman said, "You cant walk to China! It's too far! I'm going there next, I'll give you a ride."
By this point we were feeling pretty discouraged. Things just weren't as hearts-and-flowers as we expected. We looked at each other, and said, "Okay." This lady didn't look like a serial killer or a freak, she looked like a mom. Besides, we knew if she tried anything, we could take her - she maybe weighed 130 pounds. We got our paperwork back, checked it, and walked with this woman, who introduced herself as "Debbie," to her van. It was obvious then she really was a mom, because that van said "kids" all over it. We strapped in and the ride began with a massive U-turn right in the middle of downtown D.C. traffic. Let's just say I held onto the "Oh Shit!" bar the entire ride.
Debbie walked us in and began walking us through the process. We could not believe how helpful this woman was being - she didn't have to help us at all. She kept saying, "You guys look so nice, there's no way I would leave you."
We had decided to leave our documents with the Chinese Consulate, because to wait for them would have cost us over 500 dollars more. As we waited, the adoption courier walked in with her daughters, and said, "Hey, you beat us here." Debbie asked her how they got to the Consulate and she told us they rode the bus. Debbie asked her where they were going after their drop-off, and she said, "We'll ride the bus back to the Metro." Debbie then said, "I'm taking them back to the Metro station, my van seats 7, so ride with us."
Amazingly, we all finished within 3 minutes of each other. We walked back to van, all piled in, and Debbie made another massive U-turn and two-wheeled it back to the Metro station. As we all got our stuff and poured out, B said, "You can't imagine how much you've helped us. Is there anything we can do? Buy you some gas? Buy you lunch?" Debbie just smiled and said, "Nope. I have a good story to tell my family. They'll probably kill me for giving a ride to strangers, but you guys looked so nice, it was fine. Good luck!" She waved, made another U-turn and sped off.
We said good-bye to the adoption courier and her children and rode down into the belly of the Metro station, shaking our heads in amazement at how wonderful people can be.

The Big "C" - Bully For You

We recently learned that C's biological mom is having some health issues. Earlier this month she had a minor car accident, and while getting X-rays, the physician discovered a goiter/mass on her thyroid. After seeing an endocronologist, getting more tests, and discovering some hinky spots on her lymphnodes, they are pretty sure she has some type of cancer. Wow, pretty scary. It is intensified by the fact that, along with C, she has an 11-month-old and is currently going through a rough divorce. She hasn't always been the nicest person, but no one really deserves to go through this alone.
B & I are trying to be as understanding and helpful as possible. She has surgery on May 15 and we'll be keeping C for at least a week - maybe two. C's brother will be staying with a friend who has a flexible schedule and can stay at the mom's house.
C is taking it pretty well, but she's really having issues at school with her nemesis M. M is an incredible bully who regularly tells C she's stupid, weird, and fat. C handles it okay, but her passivity is allowing M to beat her down daily. We have all attempted to talk with C about not taking her shit, but the benign, benevolent forgiver in C won't stand up. She even tells us how great M is and how nice she can be sometimes. C even goes as far as calling this brat "my friend." When C says these nice things, most of the time I gently remind her that this girl is a bully, and friends don't make you feel like shit on their shoe. Sometimes I just want to shake C and shout, "Get a goddamn backbone! Smack her - it's okay, we'll bail you out!"
Anyways, C came home the other day and said that M has been telling her, "Your mom has cancer and could die. My mom's gonna live - she doesn't have cancer like your mom." Whoa.
I really want to call the teacher on this one, but it's not my place. I have learned over the last 8 years that stepparents have a place to take action, and this is not my place. All I can do is coach from the locker room, dry tears, and continue to try to wipe this fog of "Please like me" from the eyes of my child.

Cookin' With Grease

As you know, I am within walking distance of the main branch of our local library. Being that B and I are driving to D.C. tomorrow, I decided to trek down to find an audiobook. My pal Tami loves the library as much as me, so she came along for the fun.
Our library has an entire media floor so she and I went in opposite directions, and met at the checkout counter. I was armed with James Patterson's The Jester (B will not listen to romance novels on audio, get real). Tami comes waltzing up with Sista Monica Parker's Can't Keep a Good Woman Down. Now Tami isn't one to pick up a gospel CD - she's probably one of the least religious people I know. Nevertheless, she checked it out. When I asked her "Why?", she pointed out two songs on the list: Cookin' With Grease and Put it in the Crock Pot. Okay, that sealed the deal for me too - I had to hear it.
We got back to the office, shut the door and put Sista Monica in, thinking we would have a good laugh. Well, color me surprised! It was pretty good. I can't say I'll ever listen to it again, but the lady's got some pipes.
I decided right then and there if Oprah does her old and fat people version of American Idol, I'm singing Put it in the Crock Pot for sure.

Johnny and Marilyn

B and I received our passports today, which is fabulous! Two weeks earlier than expected, so we're off to D.C. next weekend.
Our pictures are pretty funny. B looks like a criminal/drug runner/cartoon character. B has hair that stands straight up al-la Johnny Bravo. At the time our passport photos were taken, he was in desperate need of a trim.
I look okay, which is saying a lot. I have many pictures where my right eye is going crazy lazy. So no stinkeye, whew! However, I do have a spot on my cheek that does not belong. I told B he'd better watch out, the Visa folks may mistake me for Marilyn Monroe!

Family Weekend

This past weekend C, B, & I hauled our booties over to Cincinnati for a weekend of family fun. It's been a long time since we went on a vacation, and being that we are spending beaucoup bucks on this adoption, a week-long beach trip is not an option (sigh).
After arriving just in time for Friday-Five-O'clock-Oh-Shit-It's-a-Game Night-Traffic, we finally made it to the hotel. Saturday we got up bright and early and headed across the street to the Netherland Plaza to look around and shop. When I told C that Paris Hilton's family owned this hotel, she asked me if Paris bought it with all the money she makes from acting. B laughed so hard he almost fell over in the street.
Later that afternoon we went to see Peter Pan, part of the Cincinnati on Broadway series. It was phenomenal! Yes, that's Cathy Rigby of Olympic and Stayfree Maxi Pad fame. She's 53 years old and is as flexible as Gumby. B was amazed that someone the same age as his mother-in-law could perform a split without pulling something.
Afterward we headed over to Jeff Ruby's Tropicana restaurant in Newport, KY and paid way more for dinner than we intended. Whoops...
Sunday morning we headed over to the Newport Aquarium to see Sweet Pea the Sharkray. We visited this aquarium 6 years ago when C was 4. She doesn't remember the trip, but B & I had such a good time we decided to go back. The aquarium has expanded to include an otter den and a rainforest area that houses birds that are pretty domesticated. If you pay a buck for a cup of nectar, the birds will literally eat out of your hand. For some reason C decided she was afraid of the birds and her dad and I ended up having all the fun.


Me hanging with the birds.






C pretending to hang with the birds - notice her arm and her dad's hand.
Nice fake.






B feeding one of the more aggressive birds. The bird eventually took the nectar cup and began throwing it back like a shot of scotch.





Good weekend. Good times.

WTF?

So today I was sitting in a very dry, very boring training with my pal Lori. We were listening to this guy drone on about how there are people in society who are devalued and, as people who are paid to work with devalued people, we need to help them find value in their societal roles. As we were lounging in our ergonomically uncomfortable chairs taking page after page of notes, the woman in front of us begins talking about her son who has disabilities. No big deal, right? Well, then she goes into how she has been at odds with her son's service agency because she does not want him to have staff who are of a different ethnicity than him. My pen skittered across the paper, and I looked at Lori who was mirroring the same WTF? look as me. Our eyes telepathically saying, "Is this bitch for real?" The woman then said, "I want him to have staff who are his ethnicity so that when he's out, like at the doctor, people will think that he's with family."
Oh hell no. She did not say this in front of 25 professionals and expect to get away with it. Neither Lori nor I could say anything to her - we were there representing our agency, which is very politically tied to our field. Inside I was screaming, "So, I guess I need to start interviewing
Chinese women my age to take my daughter to the doctor, that way they'll assume she's with 'family,' bitch?" Of course I couldn't say a word. But if she could read minds, man, she would have heard that and more.
You know what pisses me off the most, though? No one in that frigging room said a damn thing - no one. That makes me maddest of all.

Because We're A Little Bit Dumb

B and I just went to get our passports today. Yes, I know we're stupid. Honestly, though, I didn't think we would need them until we traveled. Hello! We need them to get the Chinese Consulate to authenticate our documents pre-dossier. DANG! IDIOTS!
I'll be 40 before we get Ruby.

Stinkeye

So for the past month I've noticed this bump on my outer corner of my left upper eyelid on the lash line that (unfortunately) resembles a whitehead. It's not sore or achy, just itchy when I wear my L'Oreal Paris Volume Shocking Mascara. Well, last night I fell asleep with my cosmetically enhanced lashes on, and this morning I ended up with the stinkeye. You know, the crusty, itchy, greenish, gunky eye that requires the application of a warm washcloth to open? It was even prettier because I looked like Petey from the Little Rascals.
I de-glue the lid and see that my bump is bigger and the corner of my eye is a little irritated. I do the no makeup route for work, which is good for everybody, and call my optometrist's office. They fit me in after lunch. Logically, I know the optometrist's office isn't a real hotbed of crisis and drama, all filled up with emergency eye issues. However, it is nice that they always work me in on the day I call. In my heart, I like to think it's because I have been going to this same family practice for 30 years. That's a lotta clams on exams, glasses, contacts, and bump removal.
Dr O takes one look at my stinkeye and breaks out the heavy artillery. Within 30 seconds of sitting down, I have my head at a funky angle and he has on the headwrap/headlight and the magnifier. He numbs my eyeball with stinging yellow goop, and uses gigantic tweezers to pluck out several eyelashes. OUCH. For a minute there, I started feeling a little like Dustin Hoffman in the movie Marathon Man, even though Dr. O is not a Nazi dentist, and I am not a short, Jewish method actor.
Anyway, Dr. O informs me that I have a "blocked gland" and I need to put wet heat on my lid as often as possible in order for the white gunk to "express or disperse." If my stinkeye doesn't go down in a week, he's gonna "clip it off."
Uh, hell no.
After this trauma which has taken all of 10 minutes from start to finish, I decide to call my mom on the way back to work. As I am telling her all about it, she interrupts me and says, "Oh, you used to get those all of the time when you were a kid."
Great.

One Step Closer

We got our I-171H! The federal government approved us to be adoptive parents - B's rep as a punk rock rebel just flew out the window. Ha!
B & I went out to dinner at the Rio Grande to celebrate. Those who are familiar with us know how pathetic we are in our love for some Rio. This time, however, the excuse to go was pretty damn valid.