Things for which I am grateful

**First, I wanted to ask for prayers/positive thoughts for my neighbor and very close friend’s mom. K’s mom is battling breast cancer right now and had her second surgery in just over a week today. Please send positive thoughts her way. This is obviously very devastating for her family,but we know she’s going to beat this.**

Carisssa *really* inspired me because I’ve spent even more time thinking about the things I appreciate in my life. I’ve been blessed in many ways.  Don’t worry, I can come up with a bitch list and a few of the things on it wouldn’t at all be little bitches. They would be pretty damn big. But the blessing that have been and continue to be bestowed upon me are significant and prolific. And because of the way I was raised, I do my best to focus on the good things and not the bad. My mom always told my brother and I that there are people in the world who have more than you and people who have less, people who have it easier and people who have it harder, people who have better luck and people who have worse luck…you get the idea. The point is that we need to appreciate what we have, not begrudge others what they have, and remember that while we could always have more, we most certainly could always have less.

So now I’m going to bore you with a very short list of things for which I’m grateful. We all know this isn’t actually going to be short, but it is because if I were to write out everything I’m very grateful for, it would be a loooonnnnngggg post…

I’m grateful for my family. I have been blessed more than I will ever be able to articulate with a child that has made my life so much more meaningful than I ever could have imagined. Emily recently mentioned how her favorite times of the day are bed time and morning because Lulu goes to sleep, but she can’t wait to see her in the morning. That’s how I feel (minus the nights where Mattix doesn’t sleep and I would die for an extra hour). Getting off track… we put him to bed and have some time to ourselves. If he’s still actually sleeping then, I fall asleep thinking about seeing him in the morning. I love him unconditionally and more than anything in this world and the smiles, hugs, and open-mouthed slobbery kisses he gives me in the morning are INCREDIBLE. Like, so unbelievably special I’m often overwhelmed.

I’m grateful for my husband, even though he is a man and therefore I sometimes think I might need to smack him. Hard. How difficult is it to turn the socks right side out before putting them in the hamper? Really, is it that hard? No, it’s not. It’s not that hard at all. Anyway, he’s a great partner and my best friend. He’s independent but affectionate, a smart ass but kind, a great father, and very devoted spouse. He’s there for me but he appreciates my need for independence and space. He supports me emotionally and trusts me unconditionally.

I’m appreciative of my extended family. I would go through all of those relationships, but you’d need a bowl of popcorn and a soda, so I’ll leave it at that. I’m grateful for my parents and my brother. My brother is a little punk just because he’s my little brother and therefore he will always be my little punk. He’s smart, funny, sarcastic, and loving. For being a 23 year old kid, he’s so natural with Mattix. Way more than *I* was in the beginning, little jerk.

I’m grateful for my parents. My parents are and have always been supportive of me. They are my parents and they raised me, so don’t ask me how many rounds my dad and I used to go when I was a teenager, but I have a great relationship with my dad. My mom is, in the most normal way, another of my best friends. She always has been. She is a phenomenal mother who never blurred the line between parent and friend when I was younger, but she has also always been my friend.  I’ve been incredibly close with her my entire life. Hell, she and I have been here in DC, spending nearly 24 hours a day together, for well over two weeks, and you would think we didn’t know how to even bicker. That’s because we really don’t. We get along really, really well and have way too much fun together. In fact, Ed and I both have a lot of fun with both of my parents and we vacation with them and spend time with them regularly.

I’m grateful that my parents have the relationship they do so that my mom can be here with me for three weeks and not think anything of it. Sounds silly, but I know way too many people, both my age and my mom’s age, who wouldn’t be in that position. My parents spend a lot of time together and enjoy each other very much, but they also have their own lives and don’t have to be together 24 hours a day. They travel a lot for fun and they do it equally together and indepednently based on their own personal interests. I am grateful that I have always had that for an example – that I can be in a very good, stable marriage and truly enjoy my spouse and our time together but I can also be independent and have my own interests with a spouse who also is independent and has his own interests. And because that was always my example, I’m very grateful for a spouse that feels the same, even if that’s not how he was raised. Ed is entirely trusting of me and trustworthy himself, not even the least bit controlling, and yet very committed to spending time with his family. Great balance, I think.

I’m grateful for my friends. All of them. Each of my friends brings something very special to my life and without them, I’d be lonely. I have some very amazing friends that I don’t think always know how great they are, which means I need to tell them more. By this point in my life, I’ve learned to value and foster the great friendships and pass on the unhealthy ones. The great ones are so important. Friends are SO important. I truly believe every woman needs great friends and I’m lucky.

I’m also grateful for the things I have – our house, our cars, our toys, my personal “stuff” – but those are things and things come and go. And trust me, I’m not saying I’m not grateful because I could certainly not have those things that I like. I very much appreciate the tangible items I have. I’m just saying that I appreciate the people and relationships in my life so much that it’s hard to place a lot of emphasis on stuff.

Oh yes, I’m grateful for my dogs Gidget and the little whirl of destruction in the form of a smaller-than-the-breeder-promised, six pound, six month old Daschund, Slinky. I’m also very grateful for my now deceased dog Reese because although she was “just” a dog, she actually taught me a lot about life. She didn’t think she was a dog and sometimes I forgot, too. Even though it’s been over four months since she passed, I think of her almost every day and miss her like crazy. She was born with a broken body but a spirit that was inspiring.

I’m grateful that I live in this country, even if I think our current leader is a DBag. This is an amazing place to live and honestly, spending a little time in a diverse place like DC, where I’ve encountered lots of people from other countries who came here, often leaving behind family, solely for the opportunity and freedom that we have, reminds me how grateful I must always be. I spent a lot of time in VN, a country which I absolutely loved and would gladly live for a while, thinking about how fortunate I am to have the opportunities and life that I do in my country.

And this is the tip of the iceberg, but I promised a post that’s not out of control. We’re still having fun here in DC and I have lots of stuff to share, which I will do this weekend. “Prom” is on Saturday and I can’t even wait. I’ll share details soon, but it’s basically a super fancy black tie party hosted by my husband’s company at an historical museum here in DC. I call it prom because it sounds just like prom to me, plus the adult beverages, so it’s like super prom! Even better. And no pressure to put out or anything. *wink* I have an entire salon day booked on Saturday, something I have not done since I was the maid of honor in a friend’s wedding two years ago. Given that I’ve felt so dumpy and just plain ugh since coming home from VN, I’m looking forward to being made all girly, even if just for a night. Nice to end a grateful post on a shallow note, huh?

Tears in Bloomingdale’s and my high chair sleeper!

So I have to tell you about the moment in Bloomingdale’s that meant so much to me. Mom and I had to go to the mall (HAD to, I tell you) because Ed and I are going to “prom” on Saturday. I’ll explain more later, but I’m quite excited! Anyway, I was trying to find shoes. Ugh. What a pain. Pre-baby and pre-my most recent knee surgery (a year and a half ago), you wouldn’t catch me in heels lower than three inches. I love heels. It doesn’t even bother me that when we’re both barefoot, Ed is only one inch taller than I am. Anyway, now that my knees are totally ruined and I also have an extra 20 pounds to tote around in the form of Mattix, heels cause me a lot of problems. (If you’re a size 8.5, stop by my closet for some shopping. I have soooo many fun shoes I rarely wear.)  I live dangerously every once in a while, but I’m not in the mood to ruin my knees for the rest of our time in DC because of all the walking we’re doing. Okay, so we were searching every store in the mall, trying desperately to find a pair of heels that were an inch and a half or two, yet still formal and not geriatric. You’d be surprised how difficult that is. We were in Bloomingdale’s and I found the *perfect* pair. Comfortable, pretty, slightly sexy, just right heel. And they were out of my size! They had one half size larger and one half size smaller, but not my size.

I was stomping around the shoe department in the wrong size, trying to decide if I could get by with them, when Mattix woke up from his “nap” in the stroller. Nap, you say, surprised! Why yes. He had fallen asleep in his stroller, after he’d gotten tons of quality sleep on Monday night. The stars were aligned and it was perfect! Fortunately, when he woke up, I was doing a pass by his stroller. His eyes popped open and I was standing right there. This was very opportune. When he nods off in his stroller, even though it usually only lasts 10 minutes, if someone he knows is not in his line of sight, he has a very hard time b/c he is disoriented. It’s sometimes hard to calm him down. So we were having a perfect day, he had slept for nearly an HOUR AND A HALF(!) and he woke up and looked right at me. He smiled and I unbuckled him and held him for a few minutes to give him a little love. He was snuggly and sweet. Once he was wide awake, I handed him to my mom so I could admit defeat and remove the too-small shoes. While I was putting my ever-so-sexy Uggs back on, Mattix looked right at me, slowly stretched his arms up towards me, and smiled. His smile was the sweetest ever, not his adorable goofy grin, not his toothy laughing smile. It was a warm, affectionate, loving smile. It was slight and sincere. He continued to hold his arms towards me, gently, clearly asking me to take him. I picked him up and he wrapped both arms around me (well, as far around as he could get them), buried his face in my shoulder, and held on tight. He sat there making “mmmmmm” sounds for a full few minutes. I couldn’t get over it. Mattix has been very affectionate the past month, but it’s usually  drive-by affection. A hug, a kiss, a love, but they’re to the point. Yesterday, he wanted to hold on. I stood there, holding him tight, and I started crying. This little 20 pound baby made me feel like the most important person on earth. I would have stood there for hours if he would have allowed it. My mom started crying, too. It was the most special moment. If you could have seen the look on his face, the way he made it clear what he wanted.

I held him tightly, thinking about how grateful I am for this child, for the progress, for the way he’s welcoming us into his heart. Bonding is a process and it’s not always easy, but it is an amazing one and the forward movement is becoming so clear. Just over two months ago, this baby wouldn’t let us hold him. At all. I couldn’t pick him up and hold him for more than ten seconds. He would scream, cry, kick, hit, squirm, arch his back. Nobody had ever held him for any length of time and he certainly didn’t want us doing it.  Now he not only wants to be held all the time, but he also wants to be hugged and loved. I’m starting to cry again!

Enough mush stuff! Want to know how pathetic I am in the cold? This is bad. I knew one of the things I wanted to do while I’m here is sit in on a Supreme Court case. I have a friend who could have gotten me a reserved seat, but my mom had not planned on staying this long, so I didn’t take the opportunity. For some reason, the stupid Court doesn’t want my bright one year old’s input. Whatever. Therefore, I couldn’t take the reserved seat b/c I didn’t have anyone to watch Mattix. 

Today, the Court was hearing Exxon Shipping Company, et al. v. Grant Baker, et al.. Remember the Exxon Valdez spill nearly two decades ago?  If you’re a dork like I am, you can find the question presented here.  I read the lower court decisions and was very interested to hear arguments. Because I didn’t know in advance that my mom would still be here and I missed out on the reserved seats, I got my butt up hours before the crack of dawn and called for a cab. It was SOOO cold today. In the low 20’s cold.

I should have taken a hint when, halfway to the Court, I dug through my purse to get out my wallet and realized it wasn’t there. I almost had a heart attack, then I almost cried. I had slept for three hours last night and was so tired I forgot my wallet on the table. I was trying to figure out how to pay the cab driver. I called and woke up my mom, near tears. The cab driver overheard me and suggested he drop me off and come back to our apartment and let my mom pay him. He was such a nice guy. I was so upset about forgetting my wallet, but I didn’t want to go home. He turned around and smiled and said, “I do same thing before. My luck too. No worry.” All he had me do was initial a slip of paper. That was it. It was a credit card receipt and he was trusting that he would get paid (round trip) based on my initials on a credit card slip. (I would have had my mom read me a CC number, but he had to have the actual CC to slide through the machine; he couldn’t input the numbers.)  He had no idea what my name was or where we are staying, other than I came out of a 15 story high rise apartment complex.

Anyway, he dropped me off and I took my place in line, which really wasn’t too far back, especially considering how apparent it was that people had SPENT the NIGHT there. WTF? Come on. Anyway, it appeared that there was a very decent chance that I would get a seat. The case was all over the news this “morning” (is it technically morning at that hour?). I was standing there, wrapped up like nobody’s business - leggings, a long wool skirt, two pairs of wool socks, tall boots, a cashmere sweater, a wool granny wrap sweater, a long wool coat, a cashmere scarf, cashmere lined leather gloves, and mink earmuffs. I couldn’t possibly have dressed any warmer. After thirty minutes, my teeth began to chatter and my toes started to burn. Another twenty minutes and my feet were fully on fire. I began having fantasies of lying across the stove or curling up in the oven. Seriously Fantasies.  I realized that I had HOURS to go. HOURS. As in, many hours.  Many, many hours before they were going to open the building.  The woman behind me had told me a few times that I looked really cold and “not too well.” She actually started a conversation with me by saying, “Where are you from?” When I told her, she responded, “That explains it.” I asked her what it explained, and she told me it explained why I looked like I was a frozen statue.

I lasted one hour and 10 minutes. All of the sudden, I took off at a full gallop down the street. The people in line around me must have thought I was mentally ill. I nearly knocked over a woman on her way out of a cab trying to get in. I begged him to turn the heat up, curled up in the corner, and held really still while I tried to warm up. I finally got home and had my mom meet me downstairs with Mattix and some money(!). I ran upstairs, turned the heat up to 80, and defrosted for an hour.

So I missed out on a really great USSC case I would have loved to have heard.  Sucks, right? And as much as I wish I could have heard the arguments, I STILL would come home and done the same thing over again. Wait, no, I wouldn’t have gone in the first place. I should have known when I realized my wallet was missing. That way I could have just come straight back. A few hours and $60 in cabs and I have nothing to show for it!

Mattix and my mom had lunch together while I curled up on the couch. My mom had a whole wheat bagel with cream cheese and Mattix had a whole wheat bagel, low fat string cheese, and a banana. 

 

The carb overload apparently got to Mattix, because for the first time in his life (okay, in his 2.5 months with us), he passed out in our plastic rental high chair. A few head bobs and he was out. It was hilarious.

Well, my mom must have had a few too many carbs, too, because I went to the kitchen for a minute, came back, and found this. She too passed out mid-bite.

Ha ha ha. I told you we can’t stop with the Mattix impressions.  Mattix lasted 40 minutes, then woke up with a red high chair mark across his cheek and a piece of half chewed bagel IN HIS MOUTH. What a crackup. I would have taken a photo, because he honestly looked funnier after he woke up than when he was asleep, but Ed came back for lunch and I was distracted.

Oh, and God forbid we have a day without a diaper blowout. Mattix took THREE poos this morning before 9:00 a.m. And serious ones, not wimpy little ones. I thought we were good for the day, but oh no, not my baby. We had just left the butterfly exhibit at the Museum of Natural History (way too cool – I love butterflies!) when I caught a whiff. Wow. Let me just give you TMI and say that last night, along with the best Pho ever, my mom picked up a VNese dessert that consisted of corn, coconut milk, and tapioca pudding. Key word: corn. Yeah. It was a full on two person job, esp. becase Mattix was a wiggle worm. I’ll spare you the blow by blow (no pun intended), but it ended with my mom and a piece of corn under. her. nail. You know what I have to say? It wasn’t my nail!!!!!!! We LOVE Grandma.

And finally, I’m going steal an idea from Carissa that I love. She decided to end every post with something for which she is grateful. I think that’s a wonderful idea, because I’m afraid I sound whiny and I’m not that way at all. I have so much to appreciate; I think of these things often, but don’t always communicate them. So I’m going to try to remember to post something for which I’m grateful regularly. Today, I am grateful for this opportunity. I’ve never been super flexible about picking up and traveling without much notice or being away from home for too long. I thrive very much in my regular “space” and my environment. I changed my attitude before we left for VN b/c I wanted to fully enjoy it. The attitude adjustment stuck! I’m grateful that although it’s not easy being away from home for over a month, we’re in a great place with a lot to do and we’re all together. I’m also grateful that my mom has stayed with us this long – she’s here for another whole week –  and that Mattix is enjoying her so much. Oh, and finally, because I’m feeling particularly appreciative, I’m very, very, very grateful that it wasn’t me with a piece of corn poo under my nail!!!!

Busy days in DC!

Well, we’ve certainly crammed a lot of activity into a few days! I think we walked around 15 or 20 miles this weekend alone. Not to worry, I ate at least 20 or 25 miles worth of calories, so I didn’t create any deficits.  I love being in a city where you can walk so many places. It was like that when Ed and I lived in Coronado. I had to drive to school and the mall and whatnot, but we literally walked everywhere else…to the grocery store, the dry cleaners, to lots of restaurant, to the video store (and maybe to the local dive bar…). And of course to the beach and the bay nearly every day. I’ve missed that very much since moving back to my home city almost three years ago, where nobody walks anywhere, ever. Partly because it’s either at least five miles and up to 40 miles to wherever we’re going, and partly because for most of the year, you might need an paramedics to deliver IV fluids to combat the heat stroke. It’s a bummer.

Anyway, we walked everywhere and saw SO much. Instead of boring you with the blow by blow of our exploration of every major landmark in DC, I’ll just share a few ton of photos of Mattix! I think the number of photos here is out of control. Before I get started with the photos, can I just say I’m not going to jinx any “good sleeping” in the future by talking about it again?! The last few nights have been back to the usual – he sleeps soundly for three hours, then it’s up two or three times an hour until 5:30 or 6:00, when he’s D-U-N, done.  No naps, of course, so by bedtime the next day, he’s soooo overtired, which means we have one of the following scenarios: (1) hilarious, happy, giggly baby; (2) inconsolable, exhausted, screaming baby, or; (3) cranky pants baby. And the whole sleeping-in-the-closet situation (see my earlier post b/c it’s not as bad as it sounds) is going to bite us in the butt. Mattix know KNOWS we’re right there, so instead of lying in bed, half asleep and crying, he fully pops up, looks at us, and either giggles or yells. That makes it even more difficult to get him back to sleep. Soooo, here I am whining about the sleeping thing again, right?

Monday, my mom and I hung around the apartment most of the day, which made both of us stir crazy and nuts. I’m telling you, the the HUGE decline in my intelligence lately is embarrassing. I’m taking my mom down with me, though! She and I entertained ourselves for a good hour with “Mattix impressions.” I won the prize with my tripod stand, balance, and clap act, although her expert maneuver wherein she threw herself on her back and grunted was pretty damn good. Mattix is really into my mom and every time she laughs, he just cracks up, so he was dying right along with us. He must have thought our impressions were pretty bang on, because he laughed his head off for an hour straight. There’s something about my mom’s laugh that gets him going. Maybe he’s laughing AT her instead of WITH her?! He is such a funny kid. I guess he’s already learning that it’s sink or swim in this family: either you laugh your butt off or you don’t enjoy life. The kid is funny all by himself. Is it possible for a baby to have a sense of humor by the age of one? ‘Cause I swear, he already does. He is funny and he knows it. And his faces! He makes the best faces.

On to the the excessive photos…

The Lincoln Memorial, while really amazing to Ed and I, bored Mattix to the point of doing milk shooters…

I’m smiling here, but the Korean War Memorial was very meaningful for us. My grandfather was in the war, and he has horrible nightmares to this day. If you’re at his house while he is sleeping, you can often hear him yelling out in his sleep from the other side of the house. Only recently, as his health is declining severely, has he began talking about it, and only in small pieces.

Once again, the National Aquarium bored Mattix.

After a few milk shooters, he insisted on being let into the alligator exhibit because he wanted to wrangle him a few gators.

When we said no, he told us that it was BS and if he couldn’t wrangle gators, he didn’t want to be there. Then he took another shot and passed out.

Grateful for the opportunity to be out of the stroller, he fell to the ground, giving thanks…

Then boy was happy!

Upon standing up, he realized that he was once again in the National Gallery. Remembering he had been there earlier in the week, his happiness quickly faded

Mattix wanted me to let you know that he was more than a little annoyed that he was left out of the following photo

Mattix was adorable on the carousel. First he was a little annoyed, then he cried, then he had a great time. So much so that he threw a fit when it was time to get off. I was quite happy that the ride was over. I’m getting pretty sad, as I could have used a double dose of Dramamine for the ride. That thing is fast!

These are some of my favorites. We were outside one of the Smithsonian museums. Mattix does NOT like grass. It freaks him out. We set him down becuase I wanted some photos. Instead of sitting down, he assumed the squat in order to avoid contact with the grass. I started cracking up and yelling at Ed to get the camera out. It took him forever and I was sure we were going to miss it. Instead, Mattix was so intent on avoiding the grass that he sat like this for five minutes. We took sooo many photos before he finally gave up and sat down!

We got some adorable shots of him in the grass

Using the skills I’ve developed as a devout viewer of ANTM (America’s Next Top Model for you amateurs), I realized that, as Tyra would say, Mattix’s arm looked “amputated.” Of course, unlike the wannabe models on ANTM, who often do not know how to pose and therefore are responsible for the “amputation”, this was not at all Mattix’s fault. I take full responsibility as his stylist. His jacket is 12-18 months, so it swallowed his hand. A quick fix and the shoot was back on

Sorry I have none of Mattix from the Natural History Museum, but I was very distracted by something very shiny…the Hope Diamond!

Ed took some beautiful photos at the Botanical Gardens. I LOVE flowers and plants. When we lived in California, I had beautiful gardens – tons of them, including 28 different rost bushes that we planted ourselves as tiny little stumps. Every year, we had the most amazing roses that all of the tourists would stop to admire. Iwas so proud of myself. (One day I must write aobut the drunk tourist that fell over into our rose bush while trying to catch a whif. His wife was SO pissed. She took off and left him there, face down, in a huge rose bush. He broke a piece of our fence on the way down. If he hadn’t been drunk, he probably would have broken his neck. Ed had to help him up becuase his wife seriously LEFT him. The rest of their vacation probably sucked. Pretty funny stuff for us, though.) Now, I can’t keep anything alive to save my life, as I’m bad at remembering to water them three times a day during our 115 degree days. Another reason I miss SoCal. Anyway, we have some great photos that Ed is going to Photoshop. I’ll post them later.

And then there was Monday…our cooped up day! The reason we stayed in is that it appears that after a few really busy days, wherein we’re out in public for a long period of time, going lots of places, Mattix sort of experiences system overload.  So we stayed in on Monday until dinner and it was a LONG day. It paid off, though, because he slept very well on Monday night. Here are a a few shots from Monday…

Mattix had a moment of panic when he realized Glow Worm wasn’t moving. He checked for signs of breath…

When he heard nothing, he began CPR

When Glow Worm began breathing again, Mattix celebrated by making out with him

After lunch, Mattix decided he had enough of my mom and I talking about his Buddha belly and chunky thighs. He was going to get out his Richard Simmons shorts, but realizing his diaper offered a bit more coverage, he decided to stick with that

Although he doesn’t feel self conscious about his arms because we have yet to make fun of those, he decided there’s no time like the present to work on those biceps

He ended his workout with a little Sweatin’ to the Oldies routine

Mattix then decided that he would entertain us with a little tumbling

FINALLY, we got out for dinner! Mattix was so hungry from his workout and tumbling that he stole my lemon while he waited for his rice noodles and chicken

Based on his face, you would think he wasn’t into the lemon, but he threw a FIT when we took it away. Tuesday was a good day, a moment of which made me cry in Bloomingdale’s. Mattix has the most amazing ability to fill my heart with so much emotion with just one little sincere gesture. I love him soooooo much. I’ll write about it tomorrow b/c it was so special to me.

Sorry for the photo dump!

White Privilege and Adoptive Parent Privliege*

*Term hijacked from Jena (see below) 

Before I start with the serious and meaningful stuff, I just wanted to say that we had an AWESOME weekend here! Okay, so I was FREEZING on Saturday. Seriously freezing. So badly that my hands turned purple from the base of my fingers all the way to the tips. I even took a picture to show you. I was a little worried, asking Ed over and over if I was going to get frostbite. Does that tell you how little time I spend in the cold? Of course, that happened because I took my gloves off to shovel a bunch of food into my mouth, but still. Anyway, I’ll write about our weekend tomorrow. Mattix and I have a cold, but that isnt’ slowing us down much.  I love it here and we’re having a really wonderful time. But the cold, oh the cold…

Also, and this is serious and meaningful, I’m keeping the babies who are in the orphanages being struck with the Rhino virus in my prayers, as well as all of the PAPs who have children there. I cannot even imagine your concern right now. To those who have lost their babies, I don’t have words to express my sorrow for you. I’m deeply sorry. This is horrible for all of the children in orphanages in the affected areas and I pray that the babies are cared for as well as possible and that this illness stops spreading.

*****

I’ve been working on this post for a month. Some other posts I’ve read recently have motivated me to go back and refine and finish it. This probably isn’t earth shattering or moving to anyone, but sometimes it helps me to get it all out.

Like I’m sure many of you do, I have read Paula’s blog for a long while. Her writing is unbelievably eloquent and so incredibly educational. I will admit that it was one of the first adult adoptee blogs that I felt comfortable reading regularly. When I first began reading some AA blogs, I was scared crapless. After some time, I realized that I needed to read AA blogs that didn’t convince me that I was going to ruin my child just by the very act of adopting him. I’m not incapable of considering the points of view of AAs who aren’t as “moderate” as Paula, but I also believe that as APs, we need to find a balance between being scared to death/paralyzed by far and being completely ignorant to the issues.

Anyway, when I first began reading Paula’s blog, much of what she wrote made me think of something completely new that I had not previously considered. More recently, her writing makes me think further and deeper about topics that are very important to me, and hopefully all APs. Every last one of her posts causes me to spend some time reflecting on international adoption, parenting in general, parenting a transracially adopted child, and race in our society. Now that our son is home with us, these topics are especially poignant to me.

Recently, a few of her posts related to thoughts that have been swirling in my head for over a year and ones I’ve been putting down in this post in fragmented pieces for the past month.  Additionally, Jena wrote a wonderful post that I referenced the other day. Therefore, I’ve decided to go back and work on it and include links to the relevant posts.

White privilege. This phrase was meaningless to me two years ago. Not because I didn’t care, but because I had never heard it. We started our adoption process in January 2006 and until that time, I had never heard the words “white” and “privilege” strung together to mean something very significant. Am I proud of this? No, not at all. I’m just copping to it now because I don’t believe I’m the only AP (at the time PAP) who was in this position. I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood, went to a predominantly white high school, and considered myself very open minded and free of prejudices. I felt as though I was  ”colorblind,” which I now understand is the very essence of my complete and total lack of awareness.  I certainly had and have friends of other races, but unfortunately, I was never put in a position to consider white privilege.

In my not-so-humble opinion, this is very important to those of us parenting internationally, and therefore transracially, adopted children. I’m not saying I walk around all day thinking about the many ways in which my son is different than I am. That’s not the case at all. I’m just saying that it’s very important to realize and therefore validate for him that he indeed IS different than my husband and I as far as race goes.

Anyway, white privilege. I think this is a very good place to read about it. I’ve been poking around this website for a bit, but haven’t read enough to form an opinion on it. I just think this page is a good place to read one person’s definition of white privilege if you haven’t heard much about it. Paula also recently wrote about it here. I’ll share my introduction to the term now. Again, I’m slightly embarassed about my previous lack of knowledge of this term, but I’m not too proud to admit it.

After we began the adoption process, one of the first Yahoo groups I joined was a local adoptive parents groups. It was for all APs in our area, domestic and international. A somewhat frequent contributor to the issues that arise on this group is an very seasoned expert in the area of adoption. She’s a parent, both through birth and IA, and a social worker of twenty some years. She would often jump into discussions wherein one person would insist that there was no difference between herself and her IA’ed child, or between her bio kids and her IA’ed kids. Often, these parents would swear up and down that because they saw each of their children as “the same,” as no color at all, that there was indeed no difference. That if she didn’t treat her child differently, and told her child that she was just like everyone else, even though she was a different race, then that’s all that mattered.

In the instances, this adoption expert would jump in and, far more eloquently than I am about to, state that the reason the parent believed this is because she has the luxury of white privilege. For a month or so, I would read these exchanges, which often included some very well written, educated, thoughtful posts on the part of the parent who insisted that there was no difference, and think that this adoption expert had some issues that she herself needed some therapy to address, that by making an issue of something that wasn’t an issue, she was creating problems that otherwise didn’t exist.

However, because I can’t let anything go, I kept on reading. And one day it clicked. I certainly had never understood it because I was indeed on the receiving end of White Privilege and so therefore, why would I get it? I’ve never had to sit and think about being treated differently based on the color of my skin. Not once in my entire life have I had to do this. For Ed, the opportunity to understand it came shortly after I “got” it. (BTW, Ed is not entirely Caucasian, but for the most part, appears to be and so therefore has been on the receiving end of White Privilege himself). He was in the airport in a predominantly black area. He was first in line at the check-in counter and waiting for an employee to help him. A counter opened up, and the employee, who was African American, motioned in his direction and said, “Next.”  Ed started towards the counter, but was quickly corrected when the employee said, “Not you. Him,” motioning to the African American gentleman behind Ed. He stood there for a second, looked around, and realized, as far as he could tell, that the man behind him was called ahead based on his race and his race alone and that Ed, being one of the only white people in line, was skipped over for that reason.

Of course, Ed couldn’t be sure that’s what happened, but can everyone always be sure when they’re treated differently because of their race? Probably not. But it’s most likely pretty obvious to the person to whom it happens. Ed didn’t have anything to sit around and complain about because let’s face it, this was an isolated incident for him. It did, however, offer him the chance to feel just a tiny little fraction for a tiny little moment of what it feels like to be treated differently because he was different. That was his “I get it” moment, not because he was suddenly understanding of being skipped over or treated poorly because of his race, but because he suddenly realized how he is NOT treated differently because of his appearance.

(On a somewhat related note, I know the argument can go another way for a white person who grows  in a neighborhood where he is the minority. In fact, Ed did spend quite a few years of his childhood as the minority in his neighborhood. That’s getting a little complicated, though, and for the most part, I think as APs, getting into that is missing the issue of which we need to be mindful when raising our IA’ed children.)

So this has been pretty important to me lately, now that our son is home, and everyone is loving on him and telling us what a great family we’re building. We are. I love our family. I love my son. I love him more than anything in this world. However, he IS different than I am. I can acknowledge that, embrace that, and integrate that into our lives without dwelling on it in a negative way. Because Mattix is not going to grow up thinking he’s just like us. The rest of the world won’t allow him to do that. And because many of the people around us love us, they sometimes seem to need to make us feel like we’re no different. When I talk about wishing I lived in an area that had a greater Asian population and a friend says, “Well, he knows you love him and you love his country” and “You don’t live in a racist neighborhood or anything, so there’s not a lot to worry about” I have to explain that there IS a reason to care about it. And inevitably, when that person will say, “But people are people and you believe that and he’ll know it” I have to explain that “people are people,” race aside, to us because we’re on the receiving end of white privilege. So when the conversation gets a little deeper and the person explains that I’m creating differences by focusing on them, my answer is always, “You would think that because you’re white.”

And I’m not being snarky or rude. It’s just a fact. And if you say it enough, I think it starts to make sense. I have not had to think about sooo many things because, well, I’m white. But now, because I have been blessed to parent an amazing child who is of a different race than I, it is imperative that I recognize it and think about it and understand it.

And that leads me to what Jena so smartly calls Adoptive Parent Privilege. I think that aptly describes what I must have had when Ed and I began the adoption process. For pretty personal reasons that I *think* I will be ready to share soon, Ed and I went straight to adoption when we were ready for a family. At this point, I will say that I’m not sure whether we’re able to have biological children because we have not tried. Perhaps it’s that fact that created this adoptive parent privilege I seem to have had.

I have always viewed adoption as just another way to have a family. Not even that big of a deal. Just another way. I can honestly say that during our entire process, I felt just like my friends who had (or were having) bio kids. I know this is not at all the case for all APs. I’m just offering my story. We are all our own person and are all different, so please keep in mind this is just me. Again, my feelings may be due to Ed and my reasons for adopting, which like I said, I might share sometime soon. Anyway,  I truly can say that I just thought this was just another way to have a family.

When people would tell me we were doing something wonderful by “saving a child,” I would tell them, like we all do, that that is absolutely not the case. I will tell you that I was embarrassingly, stupidly, shamefully naive about adoption when we began (as if that’s not obvious yet), but the ONE thing I absolutely knew is that we were certainly not saving a child. I believed then, and still do now, that often, the decision to become a parent is born of a selfish desire. Ed and I wanted a family, plain and simple. I have never thought that parents choose to have children for noble, selfless reasons. I mean, come on, there are a lot of “I’s” and “wants” in “I want to have a family” and “I want kids.”  I knew then and fully understand now that the ACT of parenting is often pretty selfless, but the decision to become parents is kinda selfish. There’s nothing selfish about not getting to shower or brush my teeth for a day or two because Mattix needs me to hold him all day sometimes, but my decision to bring Mattix into my life was selfish, as in, “I want a family. I’m ready to be a mom.” (Please also know that I do believe there are some APs who adopt for truly humanitarian, selfless reasons, but let’s be honest, the majority of us do not fall into that category.)

So because of that, I never once thought I was doing something great by adopting some helpless child. But I did think I was doing something very regular, not inordinary, no-need-to-treat-it-differently. Just like having a biological kid…we were adopting. At some point during our process, maybe shortly before or after our referral, I realized that feeling was probably valid for ME and ME alone. NOT our adopted child. NOT Mattix. This is not some regular, every day way of having a family for Mattix. The regular, every day way for him would be to live with his first mom and first family, right? Selfishly, becoming his parent has been the greatest gift I have yet to receive in my life, but I now understand that while it was totally normal and everyday for me, it is not so simple for him.

Jena very eloquently described how adopting is just as valid  a way of becoming a family, but it’s different, and our society feels more comfortable making things the same. If I had a dollar for every person who told me that because we waited nine months, almost to the day, between Mattix’s referral and our adoption day, it was just like me being pregnant, I could fund a second adoption. Well, okay, I couldn’t because I don’t know 25,000 people, but you know what I mean. And I don’t criticize or blame anyone because that makes sense technically, but it was nothing like being pregnant. It never felt that way because I personally don’t have any experience with being pregnant and don’t know how to relate anything to it because of that. And beyond that, it’s nothing like it because another woman WAS pregnant with Mattix for nine months, not me. I just waited for nine months to meet him, thereby making him ten months old when he first became my son, not a brand new baby that was born to me after nine months of waiting.

One other thing I’d like to note because Jena made me think about it, too. Since Mattix’s referral, we have been repeatedly told that Mattix looks like Ed. For the longest time, I figured it was just because people sometimes feel like they need to say something like that, God knows why. Ed even said that Mattix’s photos looked very similar to his own baby pictures. To note, Ed is at least a third Puerto Rican, in addition to a few other things of which he’s unsure, so he’s significantly darker than I am (the palest shade of white). (Oh, and speaking of racism and assumptions, someone please remind me to tell the story about when Ed was doing yard work at OUR house and someone in the neighborhood asked him if he spoke English, then asked if he was being given water and being treated right. This is because of he area of the country where we live. Yeah.) But then we went to Vietnam, and when Ed would take Mattix out alone, people honestly didn’t seem to think much of it. When we would all go out, if Ed were ahead of me with Mattix (because I was often lagging behind, shopping, go figure), Vietnamese people would ask, “Your son?” and Ed would respond in the affirmative and that was all there was to it However, if I would catch up to them, many of those same people would say, “Your wife?” pointing to me, and would then say, “Ooohhh, Vietnam baby?” pointing to Mattix. 

Now that we’re home with him, it’s very obvious Mattix’s is probably not my biological child when it is  just he and I, and it’s definitely clear when it’s the three of us, but if it’s just Ed and Mattix, it’s not necessarily so clear. Jena made me stop and think about what that means because honestly, it never really rubbed me the wrong way or made me think too much. I thought everyone was crazy until we met Mattix and then I could sort of see it myself, but I have to admit that I haven’t given a ton of thought to how that might make Mattix feel. I do believe that Mattix’s looks are very much changing as he gets older (my baby’s growing up so fast – he’s already starting to look like a toddler) and he’s looking less and less like Ed. So maybe this will be a non-issue in the future. I don’t know, but it obviously deserves a little thought, huh?

And finally, like Jena, I did hear that Mattix looks “sorta white” here and there. THAT did irritate me because Mattix is not “sorta white”  and why the hell does he need to look “sorta” anything? (These comments came/come mostly from people we didn’t/don’t know well.) He is who he is and he is not biological and he is not white. Jena does a much better job than I do of talking about this because quite frankly I get a bit fired up and then my mouth gets the better of me, so I’m going to fully hijack her thoughts on this:

 When we first brought Khai home, I had several people tell me that, “he doesn’t even really look Asian, you know?” …I know that they were just speaking out of ignorance, but this is the kind of thinking that I believe will harm Khai in the long run.  Khai is Vietnamese.  He is a Vietnamese adoptee.  He is Vietnamese American.  He is our son.  None of these things are mutually exclusive and they can’t be.  Even though, Khai’s experiences as Vietnamese and Vietnamese American will be vastly different than that of those who are raised in their families of origin, it does not make him less of those things.  And even though Khai was not born of my body, it does not make him less of my son, but it does make the process very, very different.   Trying to make him only my son is to rob him of part of who he is, and it does nothing to prepare him for what he will face as an Asian American boy/man.

And so that is some of what I have to say on that. Of course I’ve said plenty and we all know I could say more, but at some point I have to stop, right? So I’ll stop now. Just a bunch of rambling thoughts that have been floating around in my head for a long, long time, and only intensified after Mattix joined us.

If you’re still reading, you deserve some sort of attention prize! Sorry I have nothing to offer. I will post lots of photos of Mattix tomorrow, including a few of him on his first carousel ride, which was priceless! I hope you all had a great weekend!

Mattix’s first snow and other miscellany

Mattix saw his first snow on Wednesday. Do you think I got a picture? Of course not! I was frickin’ freezing! We spent the day in the National Gallery of Art. My mom is an incredible artist. She paints  for a hobby, but it’s a shame that’s all it is for her. She’s unbelievably talented. So much so that she has won awards and has been approached and encouraged to place her work in galleries, but thus far, she has insisted that if she begins selling her work, it will no longer be a hobby and therefore not as enjoyable for her. I get the logic, but her talent is so great that I think she’s cheating others. I wonder what the hell happened between she and I. The talent truly died. I have absolutely no ability to draw or paint. The best I got is tracing my hand and turning it into a turkey. With some work, I can see myself developing a bit of photographic talent, but that’s it.  And it’s probably more than some work…probably a LOT of work.

I often BEG her for a painting as she’s creating it. People come to my house and want to know where I’ve acquired my collection. I feel so lucky that it’s all from my mom (and therefore gratis)! Right now, I have my eye on an Asian inspired painting that will look amazing in my living room. I have an empty spot on my wall just for that painting. I’ve been working on her for six months. She always breaks down with me…I feel like I’m thisclose  to getting it.  Usually she’ll just show up at my house with a piece I’ve been eyeing begging for and give it to me. I’m getting impatient…  (She’s not selfish with her work, BTW. She often paints things just for me.)

Anyway, being an avid artist, my mom is a HUGE fan of all things artistic. She has traveled lots of Europe exploring the history and art, but believe it or not, this was her first trip to the National Gallery. She was enthralled. We were there from 11 to 4, including an hour for lunch (hey, I’ve gotta eat), and this was just the first of many days for her. She’s going to return a time or two more during her stay here, without Mattix and I because Mattix because has yet to develop the appreciation that she has. Go figure!

So Wednesday morning, we went down to the lobby, all ready to live like people who actually know how to take public transportation, planning to head out for the Metro. We took one step outside and thought again. I’d been eyeing the courtesy phone in the lobby…the one where you just pick it up and a cab dispatcher is on the line, ready to save you from the cold. Yeah, well, that’s what happened. It wasn’t snowing yet, but it was cold! We spent the day in the Gallery. Mattix tired out before Mom did, so we walked towards the entry at 4:00 and it was snowing!!! I stepped outside with Mattix to see what he thought. He seems far less affected by the cold than I am. I realize that I grew up in a state that reaches 115 degrees every summer, but my boy was born in the south of Vietnam, where the humidity combined with the heat puts our heat to shame. So someone explain to me how the kid handles the cold so well? He just sat there in my arms, staring at the sky with his arms out. Sooo cute. He was bundled up like the kid from A Christmas Story, complete with mittens and a hat with ear flaps. He looked adorable.  Too bad for him I only lasted about three minutes before running back into the building at breakneck speed. I’m bummed about the lack of a photo, though. I’m hoping for one more snow so I can get it. This is a photo of Mattix and my mom before we went in:

My mom had to go outside and hail a cab while I waited in the lobby with Mattix. I’m such a wus! It was absolutely beautiful. We took a cab back and we were able to see lots of the beautiful buildings here behind a flurry of snow during the drive. An online friend of mine, Susan (who I’m finally going to meet in person soon!) emailed me about seeing it on the news and yes, Susan, it was so neat! I loved it. Even though I can’t stand cold, it was so cool to be here and see it. I love that Mattix is tougher than I am as far as cold goes. It’s embarrassing. The last time I was in the snow was about eight years ago, when I met Ed’s mom. I would literally get out of a car and RUN into whatever building we were going to. His mom must have thought I was crazy, but I think anyone that has to shovel three feet of snow to get out of the driveway is nuts (Karen!).

Mattix was mildly interested in the Gallery, but was unamused with my choices for photos. I took a picture of him in front of a statue of Mercury. As you can see from the photo below, he was quite disgusted. He informed me, through a series of dirty looks, that if I was going to take a photo of him in front of a naked statue, it damn well better be in front of a naked woman.

So I took his photo in front of Venus, and he was less irritated.

Still, he had enough so he decided it was time to leave. Sensing my decision to ignore his requests, he made everyone in the museum aware that he was ready to leave. Wish I could get my way that easily.

In my defense (because I just told you that I might be able to develop photographic talent), all of the photos I’m posting while here in DC are/were taken with my brand new Kodak Easy Share! I usually use Ed’s Nikon D40, which he bought for Vietnam and gave to me in an attempt to get me to give up my old 2003 Kodak Easy Share that was the size of an old brick phone. I gave up the old Easy Share and began using the D40 and am starting to really like it. The photos Ed takes of Mattix are with a D80. I’m just not ready for the D80. I can’t handle equipment that serious yet. So I usually use the D40, but here, I have no desire to lug that around. I prefer my new itty bitty little red Kodak point and shoot that I bought just before we left, thankyouverymuch, for $100 because it’s the size of my cell phone! And it’s red! Cute! The only drawback is that often, by the time I hit the button and it focuses, Mattix has moved because it’s slow compared to the other two.  Again, I’m really lame!

I mentioned on Tuesday that Mattix took his first serious steps, which was pretty neat. I know I’ve said that Mattix was really close to walking when we picked him up from the orphanage, and he was. He was sooo close. Then he just lost interest. I know I’ve said I think that was good for him. I really do. He quit trying to make developmental progress and just focused on being a kid. He played with his toys and hung out. Well, the other day, after we were here, he got back to the business of walking. He literally picked up right where he left off. He just started practicing standing up again, got really good over a day or two, then on Tuesday night, he just walked from the couch to the coffee table. He was SO pleased with himself. He started squealing and clapping. Yeah, he clapped for himself. He does that a lot now when he’s proud of whatever he’s doing. My boy has a healthy self esteem, no?!

Oh, and I’ll confess where he is sleeping: in the closet. Sick, huh?! We didn’t bring his play yard because it is HUGE and ridiculously heavy and I had enough luggage to deal with. In fact, my mom sprained her thumb lifting it shortly before we left.  So our plan was to either use a crib here or buy a smaller play yard. Well, the cribs are too small and therefore a small, lighter play yard will be too small, too. He moves so much in his sleep…he starts schooching with his tiny booty in the air and wakes himself up when his head hits one of the sides of his crib at home. Yes, we have a soft bumper in the crib, but it’s just the resistance that wakes him up. So we were trying to figure out what to do when we decided we’d give the master bedroom walk-in closet a try. We lined it with cushions from the couch, put a big sheet down, and I’m telling you, the kid is sleeping better than he ever has! He definitely wakes up a few times, but it’s nothing like it is at home. Shortly after we came home, my adoption friend A told me she puts her daughter on the floor in her bedroom for the same reason. She is soooo right. The only reason we haven’t tried it at home is because the only room with carpet in our home is the loft and hallway. Like by blog buddy Lauren, I HATE carpet. I’m certain that there are a million little microscopic bugs living in carpet, even though I go at it with the Dyson daily. After we bought our new house, we ripped up all of the carpet, save for the loft. The only reason the loft has carpet is because my mom told me I’d better leave carpet in one room for the future little one. She was right! So anyway, we can’t let him sleep on the floor of his room because it’s wood (with an area rug). However, after this experience, I might try to find a rug that fills his whole room. Seriously. I’m going to take a photo him in there tonight just so you can see how cute he looks!

On Thursday, we went to Georgetown and had lunch and walked around. Ed’s office is nearby, so he was able to walk over and meet us for lunch. What a neat place. I had considered going to law school at Georgetown, but decided against it solely based on the weather here. I actually declined acceptance offers to a lot of law schools I otherwise would have loved to attend based on their location in really cold states. Sad, huh? That’s how much I dislike the cold. No wonder I LOVED Vietnam, esp. the south! Anyway, Georgetown is such a cool town…so many great places to eat and shop, two of my favorite activities.

Check out this shot of the three of us before we took off one of Mattix’s many layers! He looks very displeased (and I look like a man, but ignore that part, please):

Apparently, much like everything, Georgetown bored Mattix to sleep. He was so bundled he couldn’t get his arms down!

Not to worry. We unbundled him indoors:

Thursday night, Ed and I finally celebrated our anniversary!

 

We  had dinner at Charlie Palmer Steak. I don’t have words to capture my thoughts. No secret that I love to eat. And I love to eat good food.   After dinner, they took Ed and I up to the terrace so we could enjoy the view and take a few photos. It was so beautiful and SOOOO cold. I even lost the jacket for a photo. My vanity finally outdid my extreme hate of the cold. It took me 25 minutes to warm up after we went back down.  Seriously. Freezing.

 

DC is such a cool place, but I just can’t imagine having to bundle up like this every time I left the house, just to take everything off every time I came indoors.  And then there’s Mattix, who yells at me every time I put a jacket on, rips at his mittens, pulls his hat off, then gets equally annoyed at me once we’re indoors and I try to take it all off! I guess I’m lazy?

In closing, thank you for sharing your thoughts on my last post about locating Mattix’s first family. I think we have an idea of what we’re going to do. Additionally, a blogger whose posts I have enjoyed reading for a long time, Jena, wrote a very thought provoking post. I’ve actually been working on something similar for a month now, but it’s hard to get all of these thoughts out in a comprehensive manner. I hope to finish some time this week. Definitely take a look at her post.

We’re going a little stir crazy in this apartment and we have at least three weeks to go! We miss home, but of course are enjoying it here. Ed and I actually lived in a 380 square foot house for three years while I was in law school Yup, a 380 square foot house with a huge yard. This apartment is twice that size and I’m going nuts. Doesn’t take long to be spoiled by space, does it?! Actually, most of it is that we don’t have our usual ”stuff.”  And that goes double for Mattix and his favorite toys. We’re getting desperate and have made do with toilet paper rolls, tissue boxes, wipes containers, pots, pans, and kitchen utensils!

I’ll leave you with a few more random photos of that Matt Man, doing what he does best (not much of anything but being cute)!!!

Melissa, this one’s for you! Maybe Lucy won’t be the only one throwing panties up on the stage…

Getting even closer with Glow Worm

Hard decisions: trying to do the right thing

Well, I started this blog to chronicle the adjustment period after we brought Mattix home, which proved to be a little difficult for me. Since then, I’ve been quite smitten with this little one. Judging by my posts, you might get the impression that I no longer have any concerns or questions.  However, don’t think for a second that my thoughts aren’t occasionally occupied by other difficult issues. One that has been weighing on me heavily lately is the decision on whether to locate Mattix’s first mom.

For a little background (okay, who are we kidding – a lot of background because I’m incapable of writing a “little” of anything), Mattix was relinquished (rather than abandoned). The specific details of his relinquishment are his alone, but I do feel comfortable sharing that he was legally relinquished and his first mom gave her accurate information. I read recently that as of late, 85% of adoptions from Vietnam are a result of abandonments. There’s no need to go into that, as Ethica covers it quite well, but it’s troubling to say the least, given the fact that this can easily erase a child’s history. I’m making no judgments or guesses; I just recognize how fortunate we are because we have Mattix’s first mother’s information available to us at this point.

During our wait for travel, which I know I mention was long and painful all the time (because it truly was very difficult), I came to understand what it means for a mom in Vietnam to relinquish rather than abandon her child.  It is my personal opinion that agencies are remiss in educating parents in this area. Maybe that’s because most adoptive parents don’t want to know. I have no idea. I do know that I would have been eternally grateful for factual information, even if it was hard to swallow, on the entire adoption process “behind the scenes” – up front. I didn’t like pulling teeth to understand how things worked. I wasn’t so consumed with myself that I didn’t care about the specific process in Vietnam. I wasn’t just focused on a referral and a baby. Anyway, we were well aware of how things worked on the front end, but everything else was sort of a mystery to me. I had NO idea what it meant for a mom to relinquish her child, process-wise, and I still wouldn’t have much of an idea if our wait hadn’t stretched into nine months, during which I became pretty restless and demanding of information. I had some very basic information that I gleaned from various sources, but not a true picture of what happens.

As our wait stretched on, I started asking questions. Mainly, “What the hell is taking so long?”  Reasonable, right? I was mostly distressed for Mattix b/c he was the one who was the worst off. I was obviously broken hearted for myself and my family, but I never forgot that the one who was really affected was a tiny little baby waiting for someone to finish up some paperwork. As we sat and watched families that received their referrals months after us leave to pick up their children months before us, I got a little restless. Why would our paperwork take so much longer than other people’s paperwork? I was repeatedly told that it was because our son was in a remote province, where they take a while to process paperwork. Okay, fine, but as we passed the five, six, seven month mark, I became more impatient.  At some point, our agency’s representative told me that the investigation into a relinquished child was pretty extensive IF it is done properly, including a step wherein the local police locate the child’s first mom, counsel her on her decision to relinquish her child, make sure she truly intends to relinquish, and have her reaffirm that decision.

That part alone explains why it can take so long to complete an investigation. If the police only go during certain times, it’s quite likely that she could be away at work. From what I’ve been told, she could be away during multiple attempts at making contact, and therefore the investigation can stretch out for a long, long while. (On a side note, Mattix’s investigation took far longer also because the investigating officer left the province for an assignment before wrapping everything up, but it still would have been lengthy otherwise). That part also made me think a lot less about our wait and instead, direct my thoughts towards Mattix’s first mom, who doubtless made a very tough decision, only to have to revisit it months later.

The good news is that the agency we used adheres to superior ethical standards. I may have a few complaints regarding the communication issues when one ends up with a case like our (not the “norm”), but the main thing for me is that they are ethical.  I note that because I believe  there are ways to make things happen sooner, but that doesn’t make them right. We’re all well aware of the issues in the Vietnam adoption world. No need to rehash them. After being in country and asking many questions of our agency’s Vietnam representative, both general and in regards to Mattix’s case, I walked away knowing she did everything reasonably (ethically) possible to make things happen sooner, but certainly didn’t do anything that even tread into unethical territory.

I talk about this part because during the wait, once I had an understanding of what exactly happens as far as the investigation into a relinquishment goes, I explained it my friends and family members who also wanted to know what was happening. I had more than one person tell me, “Well it’s too bad that his mom didn’t just leave him somewhere anonymously.” I am NOT at all criticizing those comments, because I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that every once in a while, that thought crept into my mind, and I certainly would have thought that if I weren’t involved in an adoption. I always knew it was probably better for him this way, but selfishly, occasionally, I thought about how much shorter the wait would have been had she abandoned him. And I’m not sure it’s entirely selfish, because most of my thoughts centered around how much less time he’d be in an orphanage, NOT just how much easier it would be for me not to have to wait.

Anyway, I always knew, as far as my once very embarrassingly limited knowledge of adoption related issues allowed, that it is probably best, maybe not now, but one day in the future, for an adopted child to have at least his first mother’s full name. And if that meant that a three or four month wait stretched into nine, then so be it.

So here we are now. We’re home with a child that Ed and I love more than anything in the world, and we’re trying to make a big decision that affects him, and his first mom, and we’re stuck.  This isn’t a new topic for us. We’ve been discussing it since shortly after his referral (that came in early March 2007). Back then, we didn’t have the same awareness of all of the issues surrounding adoption that we do now, but we talked a lot about this. But now, if we’re going to take any action, we need to do it sooner rather than later. And we dont’ know what to do.

Like I said, we have Mattix’s first mom’s full name and address. His first mom gave her true and correct name, and as far as I know, her address was accurate. During the investigation, she was eventually successfully contacted and counseled on her decision. which she affirmed. So hopefully she still resides at the same address. So our big decision is whether we hire someone to contact her. Should we decide to do this, I can say without hesitation and with complete honestly that the reason we would do this would NOT at all be for us (Ed and I). I have no selfish reasons for wanting to contact her. I’ve heard of some APs who choose international adoption because of a desire to avoid dealing with birth parents, only to learn more about that during the process, then decide that they do indeed wish to know their child’s first family. I’m NOT at all judging or commenting on that, becuase if I sat down and wrote out all of our (often inaccurate) preconceived notions of IA that I had before we started, and really before our referral, it would take a long, long time.  However, I’m just saying that Ed and I didn’t choose IA to avoid first family issues. Our reasons for adopting meant that we never considered domestic adoption, so we never really gave a lot of thought to first family contact. We just assumed that it was nonexistent or greatly limited, but that we would do everything in our power to honor Mattix’s wishes one day, when he could make them known, with regards to his first family. That statment alone should reveal our prior ignorance; we had a very simplistic view of what that meant, don’t you think?

So our reasons for making contact with Mattix’s first mom would be two fold: to find out whether she wants to know where her son went (and if so, to let her know that he’s with us and is very loved) and more importantly, to know her whereabouts so that if one day Mattix would like to contact his first mom, he can.

The first reason is obviously born of MY OWN opinion that centers on MY feelings, as I THINK they would be, if I were to have placed a child for adoption. I *THINK* I would want to know where my child was, whether s/he was happy, loved, etc. I say *think* because I can easily say I would *definitely* want to know, but I’ve never been in that position, so I really can’t know, can I? I certainly can’t project my own perceived feelings onto a woman I don’t know when I have no idea why she chose to make her son available for adoption. And because of this, I would never push or insist on contact if it turns out she didn’t wish to be contacted or didn’t wish to know the details of Mattix’s placement with us.

The second reason is more important to me because Mattix is my priority. He may well want to contact his first mom one day when he’s older. He may not, but there’s certainly a chance he will wish to do that. Maybe in 15 years, maybe in 20, who knows. But in the event he wants to do that one day, wouldn’t it be irresponsible of me not to make an effort ot locate his mom now, when we have good, solid information on her whereabouts? I’m well aware of the possibility that she will tell us she doesn’t want to know anything and doesn’t want any contact, and that would mean that we’re back to square one when he wants to make contact. Actually, we’ll probably be at a deficit because we’ll have to tell him we did try to contact her and she refused the contact. However, what if she does want at least the possibility of communication with him in the future IF Mattix wants that? If she does, don’t we have a responsibility to make sure that’s a possibility now, again while we have information on her whereabouts? If we can make contact now, and she is open to future contact with him, we would hopefully be able to find her later on. If we don’t, we may lose the opportunity to find her one day.

And the fact of the matter is that I believe it’s up to Mattix one day to decide whether he wants to learn about his first mom and whether he wants contact with her. I feel like that should be his choice. Again, if this were a domestic adoption, I think it would be different because the circumstances are often (not always) different, but this is an international adoption and this is a big decision. I’ve thought very carefully about whether she wouldn’t want to be contacted because of reasons I’ve read about other first moms who placed their children for IA: that they would be ashamed if anyone found out. However, I don’t know whether that’s a concern here because she legally relinquished and she gave accurate info. She was already located and questioned about it my the authorities, so I can guess that others must know of her decision. Then again, maybe that was difficult for her socially and I don’t want to bring it up again.

See? Really hard stuff with so many viewpoints to consider. I don’t really have the answers, Ed and I can only attempt to educate ourselves, do what we think is best and hope that we make the right choice. I’d love any input or thoughts on the topic if you’re so inclined.

 ——————-

On an unrelated note, we’re having a great time in DC. It IS freezing here, but it’s so neat. Carissah, we are absolutely going to the zoo, probably next week!!! Like you, I LOVE the San Diego Zoo. Ed and I were annual members the entire three years we lived in Coronado. We used to go hang out there when I had free time and just wander around. Yes, we’re huge dorks, but the SD Zoo is amazing. I can’t even wait to see the zoo here. Oh yeah, and I think Mattix will like it. Katherine, I would love to meet up with you next week if you have time. That sounds great! I’ll send you an email so we can figure out a good time for you. I’m looking forward to meeting you in person.

More pictures to come tomorrow or Thursday. Mattix took a few steps today, and I caught the just-before-the-steps moment on my camera (film, not video, but better than nothing).

12 hours of travel…

…and we made it, unscathed! Friday was a LONG day and Mattix impressed the heck out me, my mom, and just about everyone on the plane! My parents picked us up at 6:30 a.m. b/c my dad has some serious personal issues about getting to the airport early, even though he was just dropping us off. Mattix had woken up at 5:30 because he must have heard me tearing around the house, trying to get all of the last minute things together. I was a little tired, as I had only slept for two and a half hours, but we were ready. So our day officially started at 6:30 and by the time we made it to our apartment in DC, it was 7:30 p.m. Wow, long day.

Mattix was a little antsy in the airport. I packed a crap load of stuff for the both of us. Traveling with a baby requires lots of stuff, especially in the winter when you’re going to an insanely cold place (to me, anything below 50 is insanely cold). However, with curbside check-in and some seriously creative juggling, we made it through security and to the terminal, where we learned out flight was delayed by almost two hours. I wasn’t pleased, as Mattix wasn’t really enjoying just hanging around. We ate breakfast, and that’s when I nearly had a meltdown. I was digging through his diaper bag, trying to find a spoon, when I felt something damp. I was trying to figure out what could have spilled when I realized it was the worst thing possible. I had transferred some Benadryl from the giant Costco sized bottle from home, which I didn’t think security would let slide, into a really small Tupperware container. After vigorously shaking it, I had decided it wouldn’t leak. Keeping in line with my current trend, I was all sorts of wrong. Every last drop of the baby Benadryl was pooled in the bottom of my BRAND NEW Coach diaper bag. Literally, I had just cut the tags off the night before. After I got through the horror of the giant red stain on the pretty blue sating lining, the real horror set in: we were going to board at 4.5 hour flight with NO Benadryl. Holy crap. I ran across the terminal into the airport store, praying the whole way that I wasn’t the only terrible mommy. Turn out I must be, because the only baby drug they sell in there is Tylenol.

 I dragged myself back to my mom and Mattix, near tears. Okay, so I had only gotten 2.5 hours of sleep the night before, and maybe I was a little unstable, but oh my gosh. And even though Benadryl doesn’t knock him out at all, it does take the hyperactive edge off, so I was sure this was a catastrophe. Eventually our late flight came in and we boarded. Mattix doesn’t mind sitting on our laps (unlike when we were first together), but he’s super, super active and antsy. He was all over my mom and I for the first 15 or 20 minutes. Because I had so much crap to lug around, I had checked the car seat. I was really starting to regret that when my mom suggested I just buckle him into the seat. So I did. And wow. That’s all I can say.

Mattix has gotten to the point of accepting defeat. It seems that when he is strapped into his car seat or a high chair at a restaurant, he has come to accept the fact that he ain’t goin’ nowhere no matter how much he protests or squirms, so there’s really no point. See what I mean? He has accepted defeat. So when we buckled him into the seat, I guess he just assumed it was like the car seat. He was AMAZING. Honestly, completely and totally amazing. He spent the first two hours playing with the toys I had brought, empty “snack pack” boxes, the airplane magazines, empty coffee cups, and whatever else we could find to hand him. Then he got a little fussy, so my mom folded up her jacket and I fed him a bottle of juice (he was so over his formula). He passed out cold against the side of the seat. An HOUR later, he woke up in a wonderful mood. We gave him a few snacks and more toys, and he was just a little bundle of calm happiness. We didn’t unbuckle him until after we landed. I kid you not.

(By the way, I just want to ask, “What the hell?” The airlines handed out “snack packs” to grown adults that each contained a 100 calorie pack of little Chips Ahoy cookie chips, some sort of mystery meat stick, and a pack of the cracker sticks and processed cheese garbagethat we used to beg my mom for as children (back when they were actual crackers and the packs each contained some sort of redish plastic stick to spread the faux cheese). I mean, come on. What the heck has become of the airlines in the United States? In Vietnam, on our less-than-two-hour flight from Saigon to Hanoi, we were served full meals and red wine. On a 4.5 hour flight across the U.S., they give us a box of processed snacks? Again, here I go with the food, I know, but seriously. And although they intended for these to be for adults, Mattix hit the jackpot! We don’t really give him junk food and I while certainly didn’t give him the mystery meat sticks, he lucked out with the cracker sticks. I let him taste the “cheese” but he wasn’t a fan. Even a one year old isn’t on board with the processed cheese.  He ate all of the cracker sticks from both packages during the flight and later on, during the long shuttle ride, the kid ate an entire package of Chips Ahoy 100 calorie cookies. Listen, a jar of baby food has about 100 calories and 20 grams of carbs, and so did the cookies…yeah, I know, but I’m grasping at straws here.)

Anyway, like I said, he was amazing. The flight attendants kept commenting on what a great little passenger he was, and the people in the rows around us were impressed. Seriously. Remember how I always say I have no expectations? Well, I must be a liar because I expected this to be one long, difficult flight. My mom was obviously a little worried for us, because she admitted that half of the reason she came with us was for the flight. She was worried for us. I honestly almost cried when I found the empty Benadryl container, but life is full of lessons and my lesson on Friday was obviously that I need to relax.

So our long day was going very smoothly and I was all sorts of pleased when IT happened. By it, I mean the incident wherein I nearly punched a man in the face while holding my son. I’ve mentioned that I’m self sufficient, right? ‘Cause I am. I’m very self sufficient. I’m not one of those girls who sits there and expects men to open doors for me, let me walk out of the elevator first, etc. Now, I think that’s nice and if your mom raised ya right, you do that stuff. But if you don’t, you don’t. I can open my own door and I won’t hold it against you. HOWEVER, if you’re a dude, you sure as hell don’t tell two women and a baby to climb their asses to the back of a shuttle bus, period. The shuttle drier was loading our luggage into the back of the van, my mom was holding Mattix, and I jumped in to strap Mattix’s car seat into the shuttle. Okay, I’m dealing with a car seat and a baby. Do you think I climbed back to the fourth row of seats? Of course not. I have no sense of entitlement in life whatsoever, but I feel like there are some situations where it’s not that big of a deal for me to take a liberty such as, oh, I don’t know, choosing the first row of seats in the shuttle van. I’m not selfish about it – trust me. Ask my friend Karen. During our entire time in VN, Ed and I always voluntarily  climbed into the second row in our agency’s van because we’re shorter than they are, Ed’s the size of a 15 year old girl, and we had a lot of luck with avoiding motion sickness. Karen and Andrew were always so nice and always asked if we wanted the front, but we didn’t mind at all. HOWEVER, when you’re dealing with a giant shuttle van, one man, one woman, and the three of us (my mom, Mattix, and me), is it THAT big of a deal that I climbed into the front row so that I could have some room to install the car seat? Really? Is it?

I know I’m dwelling on this, but I just want to know, because what happened next quite frankly shocked me. The man looked at me, frantically trying to get the car seat in ASAP so that we didn’t hold up the shuttle, and said this:

“Where are you guys getting off?”

I told him the address, because I have no idea where that actually is.

Then he asked the woman where she was getting off, and she told him.

And he said this to me, while I was still strapping in the car seat: “Well, then you should sit in the back because I’m the first stop.”

WTF? Seriously, WTF? First of all, it doesn’t effing matter because there were FOUR rows of seats and you don’t have to climb over anyone to get out because you can get out of each row without anyone needing to move.

And second, WTF? Even if you DID have to climb over someone, which you don’t, would you really say that to two women with a baby? Would you? If you would, I think you’re a piece of crap, so I guess you shouldn’t admit it here. Sorry, but I do. I don’t anger too easily these days, as I’ve worked hard for years to get that temper of mine under control, but I could feel my blood starting to boil. He was staring at me, seriously waiting for me to move. Honestly, he expected me to unstrap my car seat, climb out, let him into the front row, and climb my ass to the back.

So I looked at him and said, “No, actually, I absolutely will not move. I’m not going to unstrap this car seat, climb to the back, and attempt to safely install it back there where there’s not enough room for me to do that, then climb back there with the baby.”

Okay, it gets worse. He said, “Well why don’t you just throw it in the back with the luggage then?”

That’s when I almost punched him. Really. I had to stop myself because for the first time in my life, it truly occurred to me to actually punch someone in the face. I joke about punching people in the face (I know, it’s probably not funny, but it makes me snicker), but I’ve never truly considered it. On Friday, though, I did. I thought I might physically injure this ass hat. However, being a mom, I decided that I didn’t want to go to jail. Plus, an arrest wouldn’t look good for a second adoption, so instead, I said, “Um, because I’m not going to throw the baby in the back with the luggage.”

And he said, “Oh, I guess not. Right. Well, we didn’t have those contraptions when I was a kid and we all turned out fine. Humph”

To which I responded, “That’s debatable, but if by fine you mean you lived, then I suppose you should be grateful for your good fortune.” And if looks could kill, he would have died on the spot. I gave him the dirtiest look I’ve ever given anyone. I put Mattix’s famous stink eye to shame. I think I gave myself a headache with my dirty look.

So he shut up and sat down. I got the car seat installed and my mom handed Mattix to me so I could strap him in. He’s truly a champ in the car seat. The traffic was horrible and there were a few protests going on, so it took nearly an hour and a half to get there, but he was a trooper. The bag of 100 calorie cookies made it work, but hey, I’m not complaining. Those were Mattix’s first cookies and he LOVED them. The best part is that he smelled like cookes all night. I loved it. My adorable baby smelled like sweet cookies.

Back to the jerk. Because I can’t let anything go, about halfway into the ride, I said loudly to my mom, “Can you imagine if Dad did that? If Dad told two women with a baby to climb to the back of a shuttle van?” My mom said, “Of course not. Your father would never do that.” Exactly. This man was my dad’s age, give or take a year or two (mid-50’s), and I would fall over dead if someone told me my father did something like that. And my dad’s not one of those men who trips over himself for anything, but he’s a real man and real men don’t tell women with a baby to climb to the back of a shuttle bus. My dad would offer to help if he could. And Ed’s a great guy. He knows how capable I am. He knows how capable most women are. But he’s a great guy and he opens doors, holds elevators, and puts luggage in the overhead storage bin for women who are alone and struggling. He would NEVER, EVER, in a million years, EVER tell a woman with a baby to climb to the back because his stop was first. Ever. He would insist on sitting in the back. Hell, I would insist on sitting in the back if I were alone and someone had a baby. I always have. I do that stuff.  If this man were disabled in some sort of way, it would have been an entirely different story, although if that were the case, he could have sat in the front seat. But we’re talking about a perfectly able-bodied man in his mid-50’s.

Anyway, I’m trying to get over it, but in all of my life, I’ve never, ever had someone act so rudely towards me. If you can’t tell, it truly shocked the hell out of me.  Okay, moving on….

Ed met us downstairs and if you could have seen Mattix’s face when he first saw Ed, you would have felt all warm and fuzzy like I did. Mattix screeched with delight, reached out for Ed, and proceeded to bounce up and down in his arms for a few minuets. He grabbed Ed’s face about 50 times and have him hug after hug after hug. He was SO happy. Of course Ed felt like the most important person on earth because somehow, your kids have that effect on you, don’t they? They can make your entire day with one little smile, one little gesture. That boy was happy.

He slept in bed with us and did quite well. I have to admit that I loved it. I woke up several times and just looked at him, all curled up on his side. I love him so much and seeing him sleep well after some really rough nights made me feel great. He didn’t go to sleep until 11:00 because it was technically 9:00 p.m. for us and although that’s an hour and a half past his bedtime, it was a busy day. He was out like a light until about 3:00, then he started his usual whimpering routine, but we made it through just fine. I was worried about him adapting to his surroundings, but those concerns were completely unfounded. Mattix is doing wonderfully here. He’s back to his extremely happy, outgoing self, loving every minute of exploring this new place.

 

His pajama top says, “Future Mr. Right.” Too cute, huh?

I finally caught Mattix loving on his Glow Worm!

The past two days have been lots of fun. We’ve been exploring DC and the surrounding areas. On our way back yesterday, Ed insisted we stop at Friendly’s for dinner. I’ve never been, but he said he used to go all the time as a child. Huh. After I ate the world’s greasiest food, I told him I thought it tasted like a Denny’s, except that I used to only eat in Denny’s after late nights of drinking and partying when I was younger. I thought he might cry. I will admit that the Reese’s sunday was delicious, though!

 

We gave Mattix a piece of a pickle. Apparently, he wasn’t a fan

Today we drove to Annapolis. It was really neat to see and I’m loving being here. I appreciate this opportunity to see part of the country so full of history. However, I still want to know how anyone lives in this kind of cold! It was soooo cold today!

I wasn’t sure whether Mattix had frozen to death or whether he was sleeping here:

Inspired by my BB Kerryanne, I made a feeble attempt to take a neat picture. She has as much talent in her pinky finger as I do in my whole body!

I think Ed could totally live here and feel like a grown up. Some of the houses are so neat and old and the doors are itty bitty tiny! Ed actually looks tall compared to this one:

A few more random photos:

 

You would die if I told you where Mattix is sleeping right now. And he’s sleeping better than he ever does at home! I promise not to overdo it with the pictures anymore. Hope everyone has a great Monday!

HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY, MATTIX!!!

My baby is one today!!!! I can’t even believe it. Ed and I have known him for just over two months and he’s already one.  Crazy, really. Mattix celebrated rock start style by getting FOUR vaccines. He’s a trooper b/c you’d never know it. He just takes ‘em, cries for a minute, then is right back to his normal self.

Oh, and because he is forced to share this wonderful day with the world, happy Valentine’s Day to all of you mushy folks.

I know I posted a little recap of some of the photos we have from Mattix’s first ten months in our travel journal, but I’m doing it again!

 Referral photo – one or two weeks old

Four weeks

Six weeks

Two and a half months

3.5 months old

Four months, three weeks

Five and a half months

Almost seven months

Seven months, one week:

Eight months two weeks

.     .     .     .    

.     .     .     .

.     .     .     .    

And then we finally met him on December 9, when he was just a few days shy of ten months old:

I can’t get over how much he has changed in the eight weeks we’ve known each other:

 

 

 

Mattix is an amazingly happy, good natured kid. He’s so stubborn it makes my head spin, but so am I, so we’re in good company. He’s unbelievably strong willed and determined, but so am I…  He’s smart, incredibly active, so affectionate it makes me cry, funny, and courageous.

I love him more than anything in the world. Ed and I both feel so blessed to have the honor of raising Mattix. I’m very mindful of what had to occur in his life in order for him to become a part of our family. However, I feel that I can respect that and celebrate our good fortune at the same time. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him.

On Tuesday, my mom, Mattix and I went to Babies R Us to pick up even more stuff for our trip to DC. (On a side note, are you kidding? I mean, come on. I was always freaked out at the amount of baby “stuff” that I anticipated taking over my house, but it just gets more and more ridiculous by the day. We now own three car seats and four strollers b/c I had to buy yet another car seat for the trip – no way am I lugging one of the 300 pound Britax seats across the country - and another stroller because the umbrella one we have is too small, the Britax is too heavy and bulky, and the other one just isn’t right. Stuff, stuff, stuff.) Anyway, one of the gals who works in the photo shop there came up to us and asked if they could take a few pictures of Mattix because they were training a new hire. Of course we had just eaten lunch and his clothes were literally caked with bananas and broccoli. He likes to feed himself much of the time now and for some reason, he just isnt’ very neat. Babies don’t seem to understand the value in not smearing food all over their clothing. So my mom and I went clothes shopping in Babies R Us, changed him, and took him over to the photo studio. THREE HOURS later (I kid you not), we had five cute shots. Five, people, five. Mattix is SO not into photo shoots. Damn it. All of my hopes and dreams of becoming a stage mom have been shot to hell. How are we going to star in our own pageant reality show now? Oh well. He wouldn’t have liked wearing a tiara anyway b/c having stuff on his head annoys him.

The new hire’s “practice” turned into me buying a HUGE package of photos and adoption announcements. Not at all what I had planned, as we’ve had a photographer from Celebrating Adoption picked out since MARCH 2007, just after we rec’d his referral. In fact, I think I called her around July to let her know we’d be home with him soon and I’d be in touch to schedule a time. Ha, ha, ha, once again. Anyway, since we came home right before Christmas, the timing just has not been right. We wanted to wait until Mattix felt settled in because for the entire first month, he would freeze up around new people. We knew that meant no-smile, deer-in-the-headlights photos. Plus, to be completely honest, I’ve never felt so dumpy and ugly as I have these past few months, and because we were planning on having family photos taken at the same time, I just wasn’t into it. Totally selfish and shallow, but at least I’m being honest.  I think we’ll save the family photos for our six month family anniversary or something. Maybe by then I’ll start to resemble a girl again, instead of the horrible dude-ish look I’ve acquired as of late.  I always swore up and down I wouldn’t let it all go to hell once we had kids, but I’ve been forced to eat a lot of my words recently, including others such as, “Is it that hard to keep your kid’s face clean? Who takes their kids out like that?” and “My kids will NEVER do (insert whatever verb here) in public.”

In light of all of that, plus the fact that we’re now not going to be in town as a family for at least six weeks, and probably three months, I’m really glad we did this. We really wanted to send out adoption announcements, and now we can! I told my mom she can hold Mattix on the plane ride to DC while I address the envelopes. They are SO cute. I’m far too inept to scan and upload it, and even if I knew how, I’m far too lazy right now, so I’ve taken a photo. Not too great for quality, but you get the idea:

 

I have to admit that as we were putting together the layout and wording for the adoption announcement, I started crying and couldn’t stop. Because I’m becoming accustomed to crying in public these days, it wasn’t nearly as traumatic as it would have been a few month ago, but still slightly embarrassing. As it turns out, the woman’s cousin, with whom she is very close, had recently adopted from Vietnam, so she was understanding of my emotional instability. In fact, she started to cry with me.  The phrase that I chose, “A baby fills a special place in your heart, You never knew was empty” rang very true with me and started up the waterworks. I’m usually not all emotionally touched by little sayings and phrases, but this one did it for me.  I honestly never felt like I was missing anything in my life before Mattix arrived. I’ve always felt very fulfilled and appreciative of what I had, but I had no idea I was missing out on something so amazing – being a mom – to someone so amazing – Mattix. So I guess I must have had an empty place in my heart before Mattix became my son.. I never knew it before, but I certainly know it now.

Here are the other photos…

This is my favorite b/c he’s actually smiling. Really smiling. Mattix SO does not smile “on command.”  He really does nothing on command at all, which makes it really great when he smiles or hugs or does something sweet, because it’s genuine. He was really cracking up. Ed thinks this one looks “girly,” but I think Ed must just be insecure with his own manhood, which is so not our problem. Or maybe Ed secretly wants to be photographed in a diaper, sitting in a piece of luggage, covered with silk roses, but again, not our problem.

This is definitely Mattix. While it looks like he was just hanging out all casual, he was actually in the middle of twisting around in yet another attempt to rip down the back drop. 

He was a little unsure of the ladder, which is why we actually have one of him standing against it. This was the first shot she took of him against the ladder. The subsequent 25 were of Mattix making a valiant attempt to climb the ladder. 

This was the first setup, actually. We tried to take it with Mattix standing in front of three blocks, but they kept getting pictures of the back of his head because he wanted to turn around and bang on them, so we took one away and sat him down.

And finally, this was my mom’s favorite. You don’t even know what it took to get this one. I would literally hold his arms down, they would act all stupid and crazy, trying to get him to smile, then I would pull my hands away at the last minute. I think he got up at lest 50 times (I’m not exaggerating) and most of the photos had my arms in them because I obviously wasn’t fast enough. This kid will not hold still!

It was fun, but really tiring! I wanted a drink by the end. Mattix pulled the backdrop curtain completely down at least five times and nearly fell off the little stage, which is about 2.5 feet tall, countless times. We all certainly laughed a lot. I’m sure it was amusing to watch us act like idiots trying to get him to smile. There were a few pictures with the stink eye, which I haven’t seen in quite some time. I loved them, but I’m not sure anybody else would appreciate the stink eye like I do, so I didn’t order those. I’m more into “natural” setting photos, not so much the staged ones, which is why I’m really looking forward to having a photographer come out to the house. However, I admit to loving these, just b/c they’re of my baby!

We celebrated Mattix’s birthday on Friday night because Ed isnt’ here today. In my ideal world, I would have had a huge first birthday party for Mattix. Party Planner Laura has been mentally planning that one since August. However, because Mattix still isn’t himself in large crowds of people, we didn’t want to overwhelm him. If we’d actually had a ”real” first birthday party for Mattix, there would have been at least 50 people here, most of whom would want to hold him, and that just wouldn’t have been fair to him. So, my parents, my brother, my best friend and her husband, and my neighbor (who is also a really close friend) all came over for the fun, and it WAS fun. Ed made Pho and Lemon Grass chicken for dinner and it was sooo good. Mattix loves pho and he showed off his noodle trick, even though he doesnt’ realize it’s a trick, that makes everyone laugh until they choke. He sucks noodles into his mouth in the most hilarious way possible. He also opened presents and was much more interested in them than he was at Christmas.

The best part was obviously the cake. No surprise that the little man LOVES cake. We gave him a decent sized piece. Once he took a bite and realized he liked it, he went to town. However, he had eaten a ton of pho noodles and rice, so he wasn’t very hungry. He ate about a third of the piece of cake, then just sat there, all slumped over and exhausted. When I went to take him out of the high chair, he flipped out. He did NOT want to come out. So he sat there until he was apparently a little hungry again and then ate some more cake. He proceeded to do that for an hour – eat a little cake, take a ten minute break, eat a little cake, etc., until the entire piece was gone. Now that’s my boy! I didn’t even have to teach him that one. All natural. We had stripped him down to his diaper, and at the end of it all, he was covered in cake and frosting. It was even IN his little ears. He took a nice sink bath and passed out from the fun.

 

Today was a LONG day. Seriously long. The highlight for me happened when I left the vet’s office, after being at Mattix’s pediatrician with him for nearly three hours. I had picked up the dogs from the house and Mattix and I took them in for their shots. Because they were due next week, I wanted to have it taken care of before we left. Apparently I was the only one not to get lots of vaccines today! I’m not very great at juggling tons of stuff with a baby yet, so having Mattix in the stroller, spastic Slinky ALL over the place (literally hopping over my feet, jumping into Mattix’s lap, wrapping her leash around me, etc.), and my faithful little Gidget, who actually stayed by my side, wasn’t easy. So we made it through our appointment and came back out to the car and I hit the clicker. Except the car didn’t unlock. I hit it over and over and over. All the while Mattix was getting annoyed at the holdup and Slinky was freaking out. I kept pushing the button, pushing the button, and nothing was happening. And even though I ABSOLUTELY KNEW not to put the key in the lock and open it manually b/c that sets of the alarm, what did I do? Yeah, I put the key in the lock and opened it manually. Right before I did it, I actually thought to myself, “The alarm is going to go off if you do this…”;  That thing is so loud. I actually knew it was coming and it still made me jump a foot. Slinky started making this horrible high pitched whine, Gidget started barking, and Mattix started laughing. Apparently, my stupidity amuses him. And I knew, I KNEW, that the car wouldn’t start b/c there’s a kill switch that’s activated when the door is opened without disarming the alarm, but I tried to start it anyway. No surprise that it wouldn’t start. I thought I was going to throw up. It was a long day and I had a lot left to do.  I was standing in the parking lot of the vet’s office with a kid and two dogs and I wasn’t sure whether I was going to curl up in the fetal position, cry, or laugh hysterically. I called my mom and asked her to come get us. So 20 minutes later my mom showed up. At the same time, my dad called my cell phone b/c he’d talked to my mom. He told me to turn around, so I did, and I was staring right at a Checker Auto. He told me to go across the street and ask someone there to see if they could replace the battery in the clicker. Uh, yeah, ya think? How stupid have I become? Being a mommy is clearly directly correlated with the decline in my intelligence.  My mom showed up and took the dogs and Mattix and I ran across the street, where a nice employee replaced the battery for me. I anxiously started hitting buttons, praying for the indicator light would come on, which it did.

Moral of the story: I’m an idiot. The rest of my day was sort of the same; this sort of stuff always happens to me when I’m out of time and leaving town. Hey, at least I didn’t have to have the car towed to the dealership the night before I left, which is exactly what I thought was going to happen. Better to be stupid than SOL, huh? In my defense, because Mattix is back to his old sleeping patterns, and because I’m on my own, I’ve been lucky to get three hours of sleep a night. Honestly. Last night I would have actually gotten a little sleep b/c he was quiet from 8 until midnight, but I was up until 2:00 a.m. trying to pack. Since Ed left, I haven’t really been able to be out of Mattix’s sight and for the most part, I can’t even set him down. He’s going through some serious separation anxiety right now. Therefore, I have to get stuff done at night. However, I’m not trying to make excuses; I’m still pretty slow these days.

Well, tomorrow Mattix, my mom, and I are all off to DC to join Ed. I still have some packing to do, but everything else here is good to go – our house sitter is arriving in the morning and my appointments are cancelled. It seems like I have way too much luggage, but kids need a lot of stuff! I’m not even taking half of the things we’ll need for the time there b/c we’re going to buy them once we arrive, but I STILL have all of this stupid luggage! I’m very relieved and excited that my mom is traveling to DC with us. I’ll have to brave the trip home alone, but this takes away a lot of the anxiety I was feeling. Plus, we’re going to have fun!

I’ll post again this weekend, where I assure you I’m going to whine incessantly about the cold. I try not to complain much; I make sarcastic comments and jokes, but I don’t consider myself a big whiner. However, feezing cold is one of those things that weakens my resolve!! I’m NOT a cold weather type of girl. Have a great weekend!

Ever feel like you really messed up?

‘Cause that’s how I feel right now. I don’t think Ed should have left a week before us. Mattix is clearly upset by his absence. Our nights are back to what they used to be and he wakes up crying his eyes out every morning. It takes me a long while to calm him down. And being up all night alone isn’t easy on me and I know Mattix can sense my exhaustion. Today he took a nap because he was that worn out (so did I!).  He woke up so upset that I didn’t even know what to do for him. He wanted to be held (which is great), but he didn’t want his bottle and didn’t want to hold still. The best I could do was rock him and let him throw himself around on my lap and in my arms. An hour into it, I actually broke out the ice cream. I know, you can judge, but I was desperate. And guess what? It worked. He finally calmed down. So I take that back – I won’t be judged. Just kidding.

The past few days have been pretty tough. He’s back to sucking down bottles like they’re going out of style. I’ve had to water down the forumla b/c he is drinking so many again. With the exception of yesterday afternoon, when he was more of himself while we were out running errands, he’s been out of sorts. Of course, my mom was with us yesterday, which I think helps a little because she’s the third very consistent person in Mattix’s life. She’s obviously not around Mattix as much as Ed and I, but she’s definitely a constant presence and Mattix likes her a lot.

 That leads me to some good news. My mom is coming out to DC with Mattix and I for the first eleven days. Yay! First of all, I’m excited to have her there b/c my mom and I always have lots of fun together, but second, and very selfishly, I’m very relieved. Given that Mattix is having such a hard time, I was getting increasingly anxious about traveling alone with him. That and the fact that I had NO idea how I was going to juggle everything we need to take with us alone.  Plus, if the nights keep up like this, it will be nice to have my mom there so I can steal a nap or two during the day. I’m already worn out. Given my last set of labs, I can’t get much more worn out than this and still be okay.

 Anyway, back to feeling like I messed up…I’m feeling very guilty. Ed is very involved in Mattix’s life. During the last week, as he was phasing out of his prior job, he was around Mattix a lot. And during the week I was really sick, Ed spent tons of time with Mattix. Even though I was sick, I spent lots of time with him, too, but Ed was there the whole time – up at night, first thing in the morning, bedtime, and in between. Obviously this situation is very temporary this week – as in six days temporary – but Mattix doesnt’ know that. All he knows is that one of the two people who have been here for the past two months is gone, and I feel sick about it. I so wish we hadn’t stayed here this week, but I had a few doctors appointments I couldn’t really miss and Mattix’s one year is tomorrow, and I really didn’t want him to wait a month and a half for it. He’s just about caught up on vaccines and I didn’t want to delay them.

As of right now, I’m not sure what we’re going to do about coming home at some point. I can’t really stay there the entire six weeks, as my best friend is being induced on Sunday and I can’t wait six weeks to meet her baby. Bad timing, huh? Plus, I scheduled a few more appointments early March that I really need to make. So, as of right now, Mattix and I are going to try to come home for a few days, but we’ll just have to see how things go. Now, not only have we upset the people in his life, we’re going to upset his environment, too. Guilt, guilt, guilt!

Anyway, I finally had a few minutes and instead of packing, what did I do? Blog!  This is the first time today he’s wanted to be set down on the floor to play with his toys and the dogs. We’re not even packed at all b/c our last few days have been like this and the nights are all consuming. I do have his travel diaper bag packed, so that’s a start, right?! Plus, I’m finished shopping for and buying everything that I needed to get before we left. We’re buying lots of Mattix’s stuff once we’re there (diapers, formula, food, pack n’ play, etc.), but I had a lot of things to pick up, like, oh I don’t know…warm clothes! We don’t need the kind of clothes here that we will in DC, so Mattix and I both were quite unprepared for the trip! Ed told me that the streets froze over last night after it rained and that on the way home from dinner, people fell a few times b/c it was so slippery. The good news is that b/c it’s in the 70’s here right now, I caught all of the end-of-season sales for both of us. I scored four cashmere sweaters from Ann Taylor yesterday for $29.99 each that were normally $148! And some great cashmere scarves, marked down to $19.99 from $78. Not bad. Mattix now owns some seriously cute mittens and hats, along with tons of great sweaters.  I found a few complete Gymboree winter outfits at the regular store. Each complete outfit was under $30! All of his stuff was seriously on sale, too. So that’s the good news!

I’d better get some things done while this little independent moment is happening. I’m not sure it’s going to last all that long….

Seven years, baby

Yep, as of yesterday, February 10. 2007, that’s the number of years Ed and I have been married. We celebrated with a ride to the airport at 5:00 a.m., where I said goodbye to Ed until Friday, when Mattix and I will join him in DC. Actually, we had late reservations on Friday b/c we planned to celebrate at a great seafood restaurant in town. About two hours before our reservation, Ed and I realized exactly how married with a baby we are…we were too tired from celebrating Mattix’s birthday, so we cancelled! Maybe while we’re in DC…

 So we’ve been married seven years. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it has been that long. I was pretty young when we were married. Ed was the same age I am now. (If you haven’t done any math or don’t know my age, I got married just before my 21st birthday. I wasn’t even of legal drinking age at my own wedding. Imagine how pleased I was when, after we were bumped to first class on our flight to our honeymoon, they served me champagne. The small joys. I wish that’s all it took now.)  I’ve always been older than my age  in many ways, so while I would probably have a heart attack if my daughter told me she was going to get married at 20 (and trust me, my parents did at first), it wasn’t, and still isn’t, odd to me.

Anyway, I met Ed when I was 19 and an intern in his office. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I was SO not looking for a relationship, and definitely not a serious one that resulted in marriage. When I met him, I was sitting in the back corner of the office doing a blood test. He walked in and saw me and said, “What are you doing?” So I told him and explained that I was a Type I diabetic. He said, “Huh. Want a cookie or some Pepsi?” He didn’t know anything about it, but he did know (or thought  he knew b/c he was wrong) that Type I’s can’t have anything containing sugar. I laughed and told him that although he was quite misinformed, it was nice that he wanted me to die even though he didn’t know me. It was very refreshing to get a smart ass comment as opposed to what I was accustomed to, which usually ran along the lines of “Ohhh, I’m so sorry. That must suck” or “Oh, I feel so bad for you.” If it’s not apparent yet, I have a snarky, sarcastic sense of humor. I’ve never felt bad for myself and I sure have never wanted anyone else to feel bad for me.

If I could go back and do everything over again, I would do it exactly the same way. Actually, that’s not true. I would have grown out my damn hair, lost about 15 pounds, and not worn that horrible lipstick for my wedding. Seriously. The photos? Not good. I need to upload some of those bad boys and learn how to use Photo Shop.  Anyway, I guess sometimes you’re just destined to meet that  person. I’m very much not a  typical girl in the relationship department, which is why it’s pretty crazy that I was the first of all my friends (by YEARS) to get married. I was and still am very independent. I always figured I’d get married in my mid to late 20’s if I were feeling up to it. Although I always knew I’d get married and have a family,  I didn’t have some Cinderella story fantasy of being swept off of my feet by my Prince Charming, because I really don’t believe he exists.

So I met Ed when I was 19 and he was 26 or 27 and we just hit it off. It’s strange how we’re so alike in lots of way, but so different in others. And we’re alike in all the ones that really matter – our morals;  feelings on commitment, family, money, etc; ultimate goals in life; sense of humor and sarcasm, and so unalike in the other ones where you need to be different  –  temperment; patience; ways of expressing feelings.

I couldn’t be married to someone who was sensitive to my smart mouth (obviously). I’m not totally obnoxious, but I’m pretty snarky. I LOVE that Ed is the same way. I LOVE that we can sit there and have a “conversation” that most people would think was not at all nice, while we’re just cracking ourselves up. I grew up in a great family; my parents and brother have some serious senses humor and I loved (and still love) it. Humor makes life so much easier, and given some of the cards I’ve been dealt, I’m not sure I would be in the same happy place I am now without it. That same sense of humor doesn’t work so well if you’re in a relationship with someone who constantly gets their feelings hurt.  I love that Ed just gives it right back to me.

At the same time, I love his kind, compassionate nature. He’s such a considerate person. He’s the most un-controlling, free person I know. I love how I’ve always felt supported in whatever I do. I grew up that way and to spend the rest of my life with someone who trusts me completely, allows me to be myself, doesn’t want to change me, and gives me the space that I need is a blessing. I just love that he can be such an smart ass but at the same time such a good person.

I love that Ed is always there for me, but doesn’t ever want me to feel dependent on him (in the negative sort of way). I would have really had trouble being a stay at home parent with just about anyone else because of my unfortunate need to feel in control of my life. My career plans were a difficult thing for me to give up (at least for the next few years).  Because Ed treats our marriage as a complete partnership, I’ve never felt inadequate.  (Trust me, I can make myself feel that way. It’s the way Ed is that prevents me from even thinking about it.)

I also have some health issues (maybe I’ll talk about them one day) that would make it easy for some people to slip into a co-dependent type relationship, especially if one person enjoyed that sort of control over the other.  Not once, ever, in my eight plus years with Ed, has he ever made me feel like I *need* him or I’m *lucky* to have him. I KNOW how lucky I am to have him, but not because he uses that power to make me feel it. It’s because he doesn’t use it that I know it. And I know that technically, I don’t need anyone but myself. And Ed knows that, too.

I love that Ed has made me so much calmer and more laid back. I’ve  had a pretty serious stick driven up my ass since I was a young child as far as control over my life, ambition, and goals go. I was and still am all sorts of fun, but I was very, very in control. Ed has taught me to relax and enjoy life as opposed to always trying to make life happen on my terms. Now that giant stick has been removed and a few significantly smaller ones have taken its place. A good balance. (The adoption process helped pry a few more out as well.)

I love that Ed is so close to my family, because my family is very, very important to me. I love that Ed and my dad go away on trips, that they golf a few times a week, that they just hang out. I love that my brother and Ed get along so well. And I love that he and my mom call each other just to chat.

And now that we have a child, I sincerely love Ed in a way that I never knew I could. He’s an amazing parent. I knew he’d be great, as I never would have married him if I had doubts about that, but I didn’t know he’d be THISgreat. He is an incredible father to Mattix. Ed is so unbelievably involved, so hands on, so natural. He loves that kid more than anything in the world. Watching him sit on the floor and play with Mattix is awesome, just as it’s great to watch him change his diapers, get him dressed, calm him when he’s crying. 

I love that Ed is very smart, confident but not cocky, self-assured, ambitious but very family oriented, loving, expressive, and so funny. He finds the balance. He started his MBA program during my last year of law school while he was traveling very frequently for work. That was one long year for us, but Ed’s ability to balance things made it possible.

He’s so. not. perfect. I’m so. not. perfect. I think that’s why we work well…because we’re both quite aware that nobody is perfect. Neither of us puts the other on a pedestal. Too much pressure. We’re both realistic, committed people. We argue once in a while and laugh all the time. We make all of the big decisions in life together and treat each other as equals.

Speaking of perfect, we got married at this prefect place. I’m not a big desert-scenery type person, which made choosing a wedding venue a little difficult, as so many of the nice resorts and country clubs in townprovide desert-type backdrops. After all, we do live in the middle of the desert. However, after lots and lots of searching, I found the perfect place. It was five acres of green, flowery paradise. We were married in a gazebo surrounded by pine trees and had our reception in the middle of a HUGE garden area (although it did get cold so we had to close the sides and turn on the heaters). There was a one mile English garden for everyone to explore while we took our photos, and an amazing historic house where we all got ready before the wedding.

Planning it was a lot of work, especially because Ed and I didn’t live in my hometown at the time, but everything came together wonderfully (thanks in large part to my mom). Remember how I used to be super anal? Well, I wasn’t as crazy as I thought I’d be about the wedding. I had this vision of what I wanted and we worked really hard to make it happen, but I didn’t sweat the small stuff. You know, like the fact that our photographer, after coming out to our house MONTHS in advance all sorts of nice, accommodating, with examples of awesome work, was a total and complete ASS who spent more of the day moaning about his knee and snapping at me and all of the evening eating. No joke He yelled at me when I asked him to take some freakin’ photos (as it turns out, it didn’t really matter that he spent most of my evening porking out b/c the photos he did take suck. He actually didn’t take any of the reception. Once the food was out, it was all over. Listen, I love to eat, but come on. The photos that we actually have from our reception came from the cameras we put on the tables. And even though the flashes didn’t really work and they were all really under or over exposed, they were better than most of the professional ones. Nice, huh?)  And never mind that he charged about twice the going rate. I didn’t care when our wedding coordinator stepped on my train just as I was about to walk down the isle, ripping a giant piece of tulle completely away. I couldn’t have cared less when both of the straps of my dress tore off the front, thereby making it strapless.  I was having so much fun dancing that I got a little carried away; I figured there were worse ways to ruin a dress.

Ed and I LOVED our wedding. We had more fun than I can even describe. We had around 200 guests and they all had fun, too.  My mom and dad absolutely loved their wedding and had an amazing time, and they wanted for Ed and I to have the same sort of memories that they have. Well, we do, and I cherish them. I’m grateful to my parents for hosting such an amazing day and night, given that Ed and I were totally broke back then.  What a great start to a great marriage. And I think b/c Ed and I loved our wedding so much, we became wedding whores. We LOVE going to weddings. Seriously. Love it. I think we have more fun than the bride and groom sometimes. The year before last was the Year of Weddings for us; I want to say we were guests at 11 or 12, and he was in two and I was in two. Awesome year! Now we’re in sort of a wedding dry spell.  Another friend of mine is getting married in April and we’re gearin’ up for the good time.  Can’t even wait.

Oh, and I guess that’s one important think I forgot to mention. Ed and I have so, so much fun together. I love that we can both enjoy each other’s company and have so much fun with each other doing just about anything. We’re both pretty lame (read: don’t go out and get crazy) people, but we have fun with most of the things we do in life.

I wasn’t ready to be a parent for a long while, and I’m so glad that we had almost seven years together. I have no regrets that we didn’t start the process of building our family until January of 2006. I didn’t quite know that our adoption process was  going to take nearly two years, but I love all of the time Ed and I had together.  Now we’re so excited to be in this new, amazing part of our lives.

Happy Anniversary, Ed!