Telling the Girls

Being the anal retentive folks that we are, Dan and I agonized over how to tell the girls about the newbie (That's what I'm going to call her here. We haven't decided on a name yet, and no obvious nicknames, so until we meet her newbie it is). I remember very clearly when my Dad called from the hospital to tell me that I had a baby brother. I wanted the moment to be right. Dan and I practiced what we would say. We taught Mary Poppins how to use the camera that takes video. I made two copies of the referral picture. Here's how it went:

"Girls, we have something important to talk about. Let's have a family meeting."

"Can we watch a movie?"

"After the meeting. Sit here on the couch."

"What have we been waiting for all of these months?"

Doodle, "Christmas."

"Yes, but what else have we been waiting for?"

Doodle, "A baby."

"Yes, a baby. Your Dad and I just got word today that you have a baby sister. Here is a picture of her."

Doodle, "She looks silly."

Moo says nothing and silently lets the photo slip to the floor.

Doodle, "She has creepy eyes." Note: The baby has big beautiful eyes, not creepy in any way.

Dan," Do you have any questions?"

Moo,"No."

Doodle, " I'm going to tickle the questions out of her!" Much tickling ensues.

Moo, "Can we watch a movie?"

Not really the reaction I was hoping for. We debated about whether to save the video, but when I uploaded it to the computer, it saved only as a photo file. I guess karma took care of that decision for us!

They showed some interest in the "Big sister" t-shirts I got them, which were covered in crystals. I think it's just going to take some time to sink in.

Referral! It's a girl!

We are delighted to announce that we have accepted the referral of a 5 month old baby girl!!! I can't share pictures just yet, but believe me when I tell you she is beautiful!!

We got the call last Monday. I was at work, and earlier in the day had fired off an email to our social worker saying that I was making my peace with the wait, and asked for any information on upcoming referrals. Her answer was very vague, and I went about my business. We got the call in the late afternoon. Dan says in hindsight that he thought something might be up that day, since I had ordered two long skirts that I could wear in Ethiopia, and I wore one of them for the first time that day.

It took me a while to track Dan down, and I kept our social worker on the phone for a while babbling. Finally, we were conferenced in so that we could hear the good news at the same time. Dan got the email with the pictures before I did, so he saw her face first. The first thing he said was that she had big, beautiful eyes.

Unfortunately, we could not accept on the spot, we had to gather some additional information. It was one of the most challenging weeks of my life. Wondering what the new information would bring, worrying, waiting impatiently. For the first time, I had all my presents wrapped and bought before Christmas week--I had to do something with all of that nervous energy!

I add these details for those of you waiting for a referral. I had pictured in my head that we would get a referral and pretty much just accept. That the process would be all joy and no anxiety. I have learned that is a very difficult process to consider a referral and make what is a life-changing decision, particularly one where you really don't have a tremendous amount of information--and especially after you fall in love with a baby girl in four little pictures. I don't mean to suggest that the process was bad, just much more challenging than I had anticipated.

We were floored that the referral was for a baby girl. Totally flummoxed. We were open to either sex, and since there are generally more requests for girls, we thought for sure we would be referred a boy. I had a boy name, we had a boy nursery in mind and I had even picked out a few boyish toys (not that girls can't play with trucks, I'm all about gender neutral toys, but I picked out a few I thought a little boy might especially like). Once we got the referral, having another girl just "felt" right.

Her Ethiopian name means "you are grace" and we will keep her Ethiopian name as her middle name, so she can choose which she would like to use. We are currently trying out girl first names, and I'll keep you posted. If you have any good suggestions of princessy names that end in a let us know.

What a wonderful Christmas gift to know that we are adding another daughter to our family. Thank you to all who have journeyed with us, sharing our ups and downs and who now share our joy in accepting this referral.

The Force is Strong With This One

This is an old photo, but appropriate for the subject matter of today's post. Because today, I prove to you that this one has a mischievous streak a mile long. A few weeks ago, preschool sent a note home that for Moo's group, they should not bring commercialized characters and particularly violent commercialized characters to school for show and tell. Hmmmm.....I thought. I've seen Darth Vader in her school bag an awful lot lately. At the preschool dinner party, I heard how Moo was spreading the love for the Dark Lord. Yup, this is probably directed at us. I guess my conversations about how Darth needs to sleep during the day so he can spread evil and mayhem at night were not getting through to her.

Then yesterday, they had an unexpected play date with another little girl from preschool. Mary Poppins tells me that the girl shared that when her mother gets mad she says the F word, and when she gets really mad, she says F-it. Great. Then she tells me that the girls were tongue kissing. Sticking their tongues out and touching them together. Dan assumes that it is the influence of the little girl. I know better. We've already had an incident with the neighbor girl, where Moo instigated playing where they lifted up their shirts and she did "surgery" on the tummies to get the babies out. I thought it was clever and hoped we had a budding surgeon on her hands but we had to have a discussion about it.

"Hey girls, we need to have a talk about what happened on your play date today. I hear there was tongue kissing. Where did you learn that? I'm not mad, just curious. "

Moo, "I didn't learn it."
Doodle, "I don't know."

"Whose idea was it to tongue kiss?"

Moo (proudly), "Me!!! There is nose kissing (nose rubs), so I thought we could tongue kiss!"

"Have you seen that somewhere before?" At this point, I am desperately hoping that she hasn't seen it on TV, because frankly I can't take much more of Martha, Charlie and Lola, and other kid-friendly TV.

Moo, "No, I made it up! Isn't it great!" I look at her and she is beaming. Totally proud of herself. In this moment she thinks that she has invented this new type of kissing never before seen in the world. Not willing to burst her bubble, but needing to put some limits on it, I try this:

"So remember when we talked about germs? There are tons of germs in your mouth, and when you touch tongues, you give each other germs. We shouldn't touch tongues because we don't want to get sick."

Moo, "But we're friends."

"I know, but you still don't want germs that might make you sick. Are there any other ways we can tell people we like them?"

Doodle,"Butt kissing! Ha ha ha ha ha" She is at the point where if anyone even points at a bottom it is the most hilarious thing ever.

"Ok, so your vulva and your bottoms are private areas, and most people are not comfortable with other people touching their bottoms. How about hugs?"

Moo,"Hugs are good."

"Okay so no more tongue kissing with friends, right?"

Moo,"ok."

I really hadn't intended on having a conversation about tongue kissing until they were at least 12 years old, but here we are. I guess if Al Gore can claim he invented the internet, she can claim she invented tongue kissing. She's ahead of her time, that one. I am so screwed.

More Juice, Hillary?

I just had to share this photo. I know it's blurry, but It's one of my faves. The kid last weekend was sick as a dog, but insisted on wearing this flowered headband. It so reminds me of Hillary during Bill's first term. The kid has style, even when she's sick.

Cabin Fever!

Hmmm....is that bubble wrap you ask?
Why yes, it IS bubble wrap.

This is what happens when two girls are bored silly.

They wrap themselves in bubble wrap and create their very own mash pit, bouncing off of one another to the tune of jingle bells, which later devolves into sumo wrestling.

See...Doodle was sick last weekend. Random fever with 2 barfs. No other plague in the house, so we figured the barfs were her reflux and the fever was a virus.
This weekend, Moo had the random fever, sans barf (thank god, says the barf phobic mom). If you asked her what was wrong, she would tell you, "I'm just hot." Nothing like a four year old saying that with a straight face. Gets you every time. I wish I had the presence of mind to videotape it.
Not wanting to spread the plague, we missed two Christmas parties and breakfast with Santa and Ms. Claus. We couldn't possibly see Santa! If we gave him the cold like we did to Nama, he might not be able to deliver presents!!

For the second weekend in a row, we were cooped up in the house and stayed in our pajamas. By Sunday night, Moo was feeling better and no amount of cookie baking, present wrapping, Martha Stewart watching, my little pony playing, dvd watching would work. They were done. Stick a fork in them. Hence the bubble wrap. And, in case you were wondering, C & B has this new bubble wrap that is virtually impossible to pop, unless you use scissors, or take a flying leap off of the top of the couch and land on it. I'm just saying.

I joked you!

Doodle and Moo are starting to get the hang of jokes, emphasis on the starting. After gymnastics a few weeks ago, I asked Doodle if she did the "skin the cat," a twirling move on the bars. She said, "No Mommy, I learned a new trick called "skin the goose." Not having ever had the coordination to do gymnastics, I was confused. Forty-five minutes later, and a demonstration with a doll, a broom handle, and string, I was still perplexed. So I did what self respecting mother would do, I googled and went to YouTube. Sure enough, there was a video on you tube of a girl doing a "skin the cat." But oddly, no mention of the "skin the goose" move. Of course, now Doodle pipes up, "I joked you!" This was followed by five year old maniacal laughter. I was a little pissed, to be honest with you, that I fell for her tricks, but good to know she understands teasing and humor.

Moo prefers knock knock jokes. There are two boys in her group at preschool that she tells me are good joke tellers. I will keep their identities secret, but both of their names end in "o." I'll spare you the bad jokes and share one that kind-of makes sense.

Knock Knock.

Who's there?

Weirdo.

Weirdo who?

Weir do you think you're going?

You get the picture. And this was the BEST of the many jokes. There seem to be quite a few involving werewolves and those REALLY don't make sense. Hard to tell if the difficulties lie in the delivery or the creation of the jokes. If any of you know a good werewolf punchline, please comment. I'm stumped.

Saturday Sledding

The girls' first big sledding excursion. Enjoy!

Holy Moly We're 5!

After referrals this week, we are #5 on our agency's unofficial list! Oh, and we are #2 waiting for an infant (3 families in the top five are waiting for siblings)! What this means is that we are likely in the top 10-15 families waiting for an infant referral with our agency.

I am freaking out a bit, since the previous #6 family received a referral this week. Despite the many preparations and classes and research, there is a feeling that finally, this is becoming real. We will in fact be traveling to Africa. We will be leaving the girls and traveling half-way across the globe. There truly is a flesh and blood child (or children) out there who are meant to be a part of our family. The funny thing about this process is that sometimes it feels like it is all in your head--a theoretical possibility only; a brilliant oasis that your mind has crafted, but disappears the closer to it you get.

There may be a delay here before the referral, as children are brought to the care center and undergo medical evaluations before they can be referred. I'm trying to prepare for the worst, a referral on January 3rd, the one year anniversary of our "official wait" or later but hoping for the best. It's weird to finally be in the position where "the call" could come at any time. In my mind, the call always happens while I'm at work, so we'll see if that happens.

While this will be a joyous time for us, I grieve already for the birth family who will certainly feel a deep and emotional loss. I empathize already with the newbie who will leave every sight, smell, sound, person that they know in exchange for our American technicolor life. What a bittersweet experience this is and what an incredible honor and privilege it will be to parent this child.

Flavored Vodka for Everyone!

I now record Martha Stewart for my five year old. While I realize that in some places this would amount to cruel and unusual punishment and perhaps child abuse, in my defense, she asked for it. Crafty Doodle saw a commercial for Martha's Halloween decoration show and asked me to record it for her. She LOVES Martha. We tape all of her shows now.

When I came home from work a few days ago, the girls were playing "Martha."
"Mom, we're making a Christmas craft on this show. Here's your tree, and you need to put the pipe cleaner on like this."

"No! Not like that!" She throws me a withering look worthy of Martha. "Like this. And we're taping this show, by the way." After I fashioned the glitter pipe cleaner into a star on the top of the tree, I had redeemed myself.

So last night we fired up Martha, and the featured holiday item was flavored vodka.

"Mom, can we make that? I think they would make nice Christmas gifts."

Hmmm.... we've never given vodka as a Christmas gift before. Wine, yes, Champagne, yes, Vodka, no. But I'd bet they would be crowd-pleasers....funny how she shows an innate understanding of our family even though she has no idea what vodka is. What the hell, I think.

"Sure honey, maybe next weekend."

"I want to make the one with the cranberries."

Overheard

While getting ready to decorate rolls of recycled paper to make wrapping paper, Moo says,"ready, and go! Your time starts now!" and rushes off to get the stamps and stamp pads.
Doodle sighs and says, "This isn't Top Design, you know."

I am a Doofus.

One of the benefits of having a doctor husband is that he can treat you if you are sick or at least make the all or whether to go to your doctor. When Moo started getting the sinus infection, and I wasn't looking so hot, Dan recommended antibiotics. See, my sinuses are pretty poor. And bacteria like to have a party in there. But did I listen?? No. I tried to tough it out. I went to work. I used my neti pot. I wasn't feeling sooo bad. Well, those little bastards had a rave party in my head last night complete with tiny speakers pumping bass and I finally resorted to the good drugs this morning. So I'm all miserable, Moo's finally starting to look better, and I took my "I told you so" licks like a big girl.

To top it off, Mary Poppins came today and looked like death warmed over. She's sick too, and had the gall to actually barf a few times last night. I sent her home, then promptly sterilized the entire house. Let's all hope that she barfed 'cause of her migraine. Really.

Under the Weather

Sorry I've been absent for so long. We've all had the cold that never leaves. For poor Moo it's turned into a nasty sinus and ear infection. She has green stuff coming out of her tear ducts. Thank you Dr. W for calling in a script for the pink stuff. It has saved us!!!!

For Doodle, she is better but still a little punky. I sense an impending ear infection. On Thanksgiving, perhaps? I had Dan check her ears, but he says they are fine. His diagnosis rate with kids' ears is far below 100% so I might just get her checked out tomorrow if she's not better. I made a soft call and she got to stay home from preschool today with Moo.

I'm still hacking a little, but trying to avoid the antibiotics. Dan's entering the cough stage.

More later.

Great, but creepy too

My Dad (aka "Buddy") works at a sporting goods store. They have a Santa's workshop extravaganza every weekend from now 'till Christmas. You can go and pick up a card (thanks Buddy!) with a time on it and then show up and take pictures with Santa. With NO line. With a great looking, super nice Santa. It was fantastic. Oh, and the crafty Doodle even got to make a glitter pine cone ornament. Yea! A messy craft made outside the home!

However, the store is decorated in the widely popular "more taxidermy is better" style, with creepy stuffed critters peering out at you from pretty much everywhere. Including squirrels. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised to see giant stuffed real reindeer (or caribou) on either side of Santa. "Hi everyone, I brought the reindeer with me! Don't mind them, they just like to stand there and stare blankly at you! Look, there's Rudolph, an incredibly realistic looking stuffed beast!" And they say that Santa and the reindeer aren't real. Ha!

On either side of the reindeer, there were shooting ranges. Yes, shooting ranges, where kids could take a gun and shoot lasers at targets mounted on all sorts of silhouette animals. Turkeys, quail, and even something that looked remarkably like Rudolph! "Yes, kids, step right up and kill Rudolph. Don't you remember how annonying he was in that Christmas video? Perhaps your parents can have him stuffed and mounted on your bedroom wall." Oh the perfect irony. Needless to say we did not participate. No wonder the Moo Bear was afraid of the whole Santa thing.

And don't get me started on the kids cammo clothes. No matter what your social and political views are, who thinks it is a good idea to make it harder to find kids? I can hardly keep track of them when we go to crowded places or when we play hide and seek, who wants to make them LESS visible?

So thanks to Buddy for an adventurous trip. We had a great time. And thanks to Sheila for spoiling us afterward.

Preschool Dinner Party...baum chicka baum baum (insert cheesy adult movie music here)

Oh, what a wild time we had yesterday at the preschool dinner party. It's potluck, and the director of the school provides the adult beverages. You might think it would be boring, but you would be so, so wrong.

Last year, sake came out at the end of the party and we found out who the true party parents were. Last year, there were some parents who pre-partied at a local mexican restaurant. Margaritas and tequila for everyone! We need to meet the kid's teachers! This year, it was not quite as wild, but there were indeed some folks who were a bit over-served.

I had resolved to limit myself to one glass of red wine, but after sticking my foot in my mouth about water birth, I threw caution to the wind and had a whole three glasses. See, I have a friend who did the non-drug water birth. And she is a hero. However, I learned the truth about the water birth. I had envisioned a tub that was almost like a small pool, with a filter and circulating water. But no, no filter people and if you have a long labor, it's not like they drain the tub. All of the fluids and whatnot, the birth runoff if you will, sits in the tub with you. Yikes! I'm the type of girl who might shower before a bath, so I'm just not into this. Kudos to those who are.

So at the hippy preschool (and I say that with much fondness), I should have known that the guests leaned more towards the water birth than not, and totally put my foot in my mouth about it. It's ok, though, because the woman I might have offended ..... at the end of the night offered to host a party where the wives would get tipsy and then there would be a pole dancing lesson and then the husbands would pick us up. I'm NOT lying to you. There was also a mention of how this might save our husbands money by not having to hire ladies of the evening, if you get my drift. Seriously. I felt like I was in some 1970's swinging house party and not a preschool party. I don't think some of these folks get out much.

Now before you get the wrong idea, most of the party guests were well behaved, and there are some pretty cool parents there. I did learn however, that our girls are a corrupting influence. Moo Bear has been talking up the Star Wars, and some parents have now caved and let the kids watch the movie. And these are kids who have never watched anything but the local PBS channel! I heard that their kids are telling their parents that they HAVE to see Star Wars. That Moo Bear loves it and she likes Darth Vader and even though he is evil she is really nice. Sorry! At least one parent said that it was nice to see a girl like the strong character and not be a princess all of the time. Thank you! We feel a bit less like freaks now!

The Doodle has been sharing information about the good night fairy (bribe to get the girls to sleep all night in their own beds). Apparently some of the parents have tried it, but their good night fairy gifts were sub-par. Olivia has told the other kids that the REAL good night fairy brings wooden animals, not stickers. Again, our apologies.

I wonder what the preschool teachers think of the event. Is it nice to see the parents loosen up, or are they looking at us thinking, so THAT is why that kid is so weird?

So thanks for an entertaining evening preschool parents! See you next year.

And these go to ELEVEN!!!

Any Spinal Tap fans out there? No?

Well, we're now at number 11 on our agency's unofficial list. I'm not sure what that means since another parent posted on our forum that her social worker told her there are more folks off of the unofficial list than are on it, but at least we are moving!!

Woohoo!

You learn something new every day....

Like the fact that you should wear substantial underwear when undergoing an upper GI x-ray. I swear that was not on the instruction sheet.

They don't let you keep your pants on--who knew? And they make you pose in very odd positions while wearing one of those stupid gowns. Like doing a few log rolls on the table to distribute the disgusting barium you've just ingested. Very scientific. Very sexy.

Of course the radiologist was young and cute. Let's hope he doesn't know Dan or I don't run into him at one of those doctor events! He's seen more of me and my esophagus than anyone should!

The good news was that on first pass, there were no "gross abnormalities." Well, we knew that already. Only subtle and snarky abnormalities here!

Edited to add: Official results were negative. Or to use a fancy radiology term "unremarkable." No ulcers, no hiatal hernia, no strictures of the esophagus, nothing. So, basically, I've been giving myself heartburn from my various vices. Nice.

Vices, anyone?

So I'm have a bit of heartburn (sound familiar, Julie?) and have to go on a two week trial without most things I love: red wine (on occasion), tomatoes, pizza, spices (bye bye Indian food and Ethiopian food), chocolate, coffee. And quickly, I'm all out of vices. We eat really healthy and I exercise. I don't smoke. I can't be a sexaholic 'cause there's just not enough hours or privacy in my life, and I don't think I have the attention span to do those Sudoku things. The only type of shopping I enjoy these days is online, and not much of that. So, I'm asking you, dear readers, to suggest a vice. Oh, and be forewarned, after these first two weeks of "weaning" and the next two weeks of cold turkey, I'm going to be a bitch on wheels.

Knitting? What do you do if you get stressed at work, go on a knitting break instead of a coffee break?

Gardening? Kind of hard to do in the winter in the Midwest.

Cooking? I love to cook, but have to eliminate tomatoes and balsamic--what's the point? Although I do think I could get into some nice cream sauces.......

Anywhoo, it's up to you guys. Truly. I'm open to suggestions.

Being a doctor is so glamorous!--Warning, grossness

Dan (aka Doogie Howser-- he tires of the joke, but can't you see the resemblance?) and I have a little game we like to play called, "Who had the worse day?" We often commute from work together and have a bit of alone time in the car before we get home. Last week, he might have had one of the worst days of all time.

Dan was on service at the hospital. He was leading a team of residents, interns (a fancy word for first year residents) and students. He was on rounds and was in a patient's room with his team and perhaps a nurse or two. This is where he is supposed to look all smarty pants and stuff (and he is normally, quite brilliant. Who else do you know who got a perfect score on his medical boards? It's enough to make me vomit, and I hate vomit). So his patient is trying to leave against medical advice, and has given the nurses and staff a hard time, but Dan needs to get him to stay for his (the patient's) own good. Things get heated between Dan and the patient, Dan loses his cool and shouts, "Sir, you cannot leave the hospital! You have a life threatening PENIS! . . . infection."

Well, not exactly. But the guy actually had flesh eating bacteria of Big Jim and the Twins. The urologists had saved the twig, but sadly one of the berries was gone. The other berry wasn't looking too hot either, ergo the IV antibiotics, etc. He had meat, but only one sad looking potato (sorry, I just couldn't help myself).

Don't believe me? It's called Fournier's Gangrene. For those who can stand some gore, here's a picture of a man with the condition- and it is gross. You are warned. This flesh eating bacteria of the private bits can happen to women, but most often affects men. Coincidence? I think not.

I asked Dan how common this condition was, and he's saved a few swords from this very fate. He's also saved countless others from various STDs and infections. In fact, he has clinic hours on Fridays, the last appointments for the week, and he tells me that often that day is STD clinic. People looking to get some antibiotics so they can get it on over the weekend. Yikes! And they say being a doctor is glamorous.

The Wait is Getting to Me!!

So we are stuck on the waiting list. According to my agency, we should anticipate a 12 month wait. We are just beginning our 11th month of waiting. So close, you say! Almost there! But no. I had envisioned THIS Christmas with the new baby. I thought we would be traveling now. I thought and was told that the wait would be 5-7 months. Therein lies the frustration. Intellectually, I know that these things are unpredictable. And intellectually I don't want to be one of those potential adoptive parents from the West waving their money and demanding a child at any cost. I don't want to contribute to non-ethical adoptions. But my heart just wants my damn baby. It is not rational, but it is real and very,very raw.

Not to mention the excruciating limbo of not knowing. Girl or boy? 3 months or 12 months? Single infant or twins? For a planner, this is hell. I can't DO anything in the wait. Can't paint a room, can't buy clothes. I don't want to take too many vacation days in case my maternity leave is imminent, but if we're not going to travel until, say June, I'm going to at least need a mental health day here and there.

I've intentionally left some things to do after referral but before travel, like immunizations. I know I will need something to do in those 3+ months between referral and travel and I just can't imagine going into a travel clinic now and saying "Hey, I'm traveling to Ethiopia." When? "I have no freaking clue. Sometime in the next 6-9 months." I'm pretty sure they'll look at me like I'm a lunatic.

So if I look a little crazed, or get teary eyed, please understand. And to those pregnant women out there, don't take my angry, jealous looks personally. I'm envious of your timeline and excuse for ice cream consumption.

My Town Takes Charge!

I live in a VERY liberal suburb of a big city in the Midwest. Let's call it Oakey Oaks. Think Birkenstocks, Dansko clogs and Keens, tote bags at the grocery store, and organic everything. It is a place where every Saturday at the Farmers Market (since 2000, I think) there is a petition to impeach Bush. Every Thursday, rain, shine, or snow, a group of protesters gather near the train stop and the expressway to promote peace. Their signs say "Honk for Peace" and most cars do. We have a huge recycling program, and I saw only one McCain yard sign in the past two years. My town is truly racially integrated and has been since the 60's. I think we have the greatest concentration of smart cars and VW beetles per capita than most of America. We are a nuclear free zone, and have the signs to prove it.

So when I got to the end of the ballot, there were some interesting referendums. First, our town is attempting to single handedly end the war in Iraq. Yep. The referendum was for the pursuit to use all means necessary to limit federal military spending in Iraq and Afghanistan to bringing the troops home. Not sure what this means in the larger political arena, but interesting. The second was a referendum to phase out nuclear power, replacing it with wind and solar energy. Seriously. And not just in Oakey Oaks, but the entire state. The third was a referendum requiring all contractors and subcontractors who do work for our town and businesses receiving funds from our town to pay a living wage to their employees, indexed to inflation, with health benefits and time off. Hmmm, and people say Americans don't embrace socialism.

No word yet on the success or failure of these referendums, but I give our citizens props for being engaged and interested. If you'll excuse me, I need to go figure out how to get some solar panels for my roof.

We're going to discuss this now?

So for the past several years, I have committed to working out on a regular basis. I hate it. It's not fun. But I do it for my health and for my girls, and frankly to combat the jiggles on my body. I try desperately to make it look fun, so my girls will enjoy working out.

They opened a gym in my building, and I've tried to add one more workout to my week. It sucks. It's like being in high school again, getting dressed in a locker room, showers, the whole shebang. Being the plump one, struggling to put a sport bra on (or off) giant hooters without throwing out my back while simultaneously trying to keep a towel tied around my hips. A teeny tiny workout towel. What is up with that anyway??

It is so much effort for what often feels like not too great results. I was afraid to measure myself in the beginning, and I'm not a weigh-er, so all of my results are subjectively judged. This usually entails me asking Dan whether he can see any difference. He usually replies all smartassy, "your heart looks great."

I've been asking him every week into my new routine, " It's working, right?" And each time, a smartassy response. Until Sunday.

Sunday was the day we planted our tulip bulbs, covered them with compost, chicken wire and mulch. Take that squirrelly bastards! I'm considering sprinkling them with cayenne pepper, too.

So I'm covered in mulch and compost, in a old, holey outfit, sweaty, shoveling "mature" compost out of the composter. Those who work with compost know that when it is ready to use, the compost smells and looks like crap. So basically I'm covered in crap and bending over, and Dan chooses that moment to be all, "Hey, I think your a$$ is looking good."

"We're going to discuss this NOW, Captain Romance? When I'm covered in manure? Can you put that compliment on hold until I can shower? Does the compost make my butt look smaller?

Ahh...the bliss of married life.

A three hour tour....a three hour tour

So yesterday, the girls and I decided to go to Costco. Normally while not a pleasant trip, it is not usually so bad. I try to avoid prime time hours on Saturday, when the samples bring folks out in droves. But...we left late, and that was my first mistake. Doodle insisted on getting a snack first. Snacks were a piece of cheese pizza bigger than Doodle's head, a huge hot dog for Moo, and a churro. Oh, and a Diet Coke for me, and a pink lemonade for the girls. I was balancing all of this and the twelve bags I brought with me (yes, I'm on of THOSE people). And then, it happened, the churro fell to the floor. The horror! Thankfully, it landed mostly on the paper, and I'm ashamed to say I ripped off the piece that touched the floor and fed the rest to the girls. I was desperate, people, and there was a loooong line at the snack counter.

So after a snack, things were fairly smooth, we found a great rice cooker, and there was very little whining in the toy aisle, of course the very nice and thoughtful Costco folks had constructed a giant dollhouse display.....so helpful of them!

And then we hit the part where they start the samples. Is is really necessary to line up 7 deep to try the Irish butter spread on a piece of baguette, really? Especially when you can get a delicious churro for $1 at the snack counter? Ugh.

So I weave my way through the madness, and by this time the cart weighs about 150 pounds (two girls, 1 at 30-some pounds, and another at almost 35 pounds, Diet Coke, organic chicken, sun dried tomatoes, onions, one Tinkerbell movie bribe, one sticker book bribe, three bottles of wine, baby carrots, pellegrino, Parmesan cheese, brussel sprouts, rice cooker, a lone crab leg--hey, I have a 4 year old with a serious crab habit--don't judge) and there are three women all in a row stopped in the main aisle, talking and counting money. Really, are you just gonna sit there and chat? I started getting hostile. I entertained thoughts of accidentally ramming them on purpose with the cart. Finally, I was helped by an angry mob trying desperately to get to the sample of the chocolate mousse.

A few more stops and we get to the lines. Oh, the lines. And I almost felt sorry for the man in front of us. He and the wife were in their mid to late 70's and the only thing they had in their cart was a case of Ensure and a pair of house shoes. On one hand, I had sympathy for them. On the other, they were clearly retired. Must they go to Costco on the weekend??? Wouldn't it just be easier to go during the week during the day when it is slow? Was it really an Ensure emergency? A fun outing? "Hmmm, I'm bored honey, let's go to the Costco. I need some new slippers, and we could get some of those vanilla Ensure shakes." "Great idea hon, they have samples today."

And the card I tried to use was de-magnetized. Shoot me now!

So we make it, everything is loaded in the minivan, the kids are strapped in their car seats and I hear, "Mom, I really have to go the bathroom." Holy hell. So we get out of the car seats, walk the two miles back to the Costco, and some 7 year old has taken the handicapped stall. That meant I stood in the door way of the tiny stall to help the girls, totally on display. "Mom, I think there's poop on the floor." "Don't touch anything." "Mom, I don't have to go. Only Moo had to go." "Try anyway." "Mommy is going potty and do not move because I need to see your feet right at the door of the potty to be sure no one takes you." "What lesson did we learn today ladies? Yes, that's right, if you have to go potty, tell Mommy before we leave the Costco." This brought down the house in the ladies' room, let me tell you.

On the way home, there was an accident on the expressway. I had counted on two sleeping girls in a junk food coma, but somehow they were wide awake for the hour it took us to get home (normally a 25 minute trip). "Mom, we want to go home." "Mom, why aren't we moving?" "Mom, what accident?" "Mom, Doodle won't share the sticker book." "Mom, can we hear Brick House again?" And on and on and on. You get the picture.

To add insult to injury, as soon as we got home, Doodle fell asleep on the floor while playing with her sticker book. I poured myself a glass of wine. Oh, and I forgot the orange juice.

Shout out to Uncle Aaron!

Literally, a shout out. In the photo, Doodle is pointing to a wind up ghost that cool Uncle Aaron sent. See, Uncle Aaron sends the best gifts. This time, it was a cute bag filled with stickers, wind-up toys, those little things that grow in water, chocolate and pop rocks.

It was the girls' first opportunity to try pop rocks and Doodle says, "They were bouncing on my tongue. They were wobbly. Yea!" A rousing endorsement if I ever heard one. So thank you to Uncle Aaron, more photos are in the slideshow. Don't tell Nama, but the girls liked your gifts better than hers.

Oh, and I'd like to give you some anonymity, but the only nickname the girls could come up with was "peanut jar head." LMK if you think of something better.

And, for those of you who asked, yes, Moo Bear was Darth Vader again for Halloween this year (second year in a row). She spent most of the evening humming Darth Vader's theme music. Nothing like seeing a petite 4 year old girl with crazy curly hair channel the dark lord. We are so in trouble.

What I Believe

I didn't think I would be all deep thoughts in this blog, but sometimes serious things come up that deserve some air time.
I know some of you out there might not be of like mind, but I believe that if two people love each other and wish to enter into marriage, that all of these couples whether or not they consist of one man and one woman, or two men or two women, deserve all of the recognition and benefits our country and states provide. Period. I'm attaching a link that says it far better than I can. Because there is not enough love in this world for us to be bickering about whose love is better or more deserving. Click here to read the eloquent article from Vicki on Prop 8.

Oh, and here's a funny blog about it, with some great wedding photos, be sure to click on the more, tab, too.

Overheard

"Doodle, stop kicking me in the boo-tocks."
"What do you mean, boo-tocks? I'm kicking you in your BUT-tocks."
"But it's Halloween. They are Boo-tocks. Like ghosts' butts."
"Hmmm....I think skeletons have those too."

Kids Halloween Brunch This Weekend!

So we went to a Halloween party for ourselves for our kids, hosted by our friends, the B family. B family has a wealth of experience hosting these get-togethers and were the masterminds behind the original "Drinks with Kids" parties, which basically mean we drink beverages around our kids. Brilliant! Sometimes we have babysitters when the Nutty family hosts, but usually there is one adult who gets stuck graciously volunteers to drive home and is therefore sober enough to take care of the kids. Not that we are lushes or anything... I mean we only went through about 8 or 10 bottles of champagne today. Hey, there were like 9 adults there! No worries! And we drank at least 2 gallons of orange juice, too!

Actually, some of the families with kids who take naps and are fed real vegetables left early and the core group remained. So with our kids playing nicely and champagne on ice we had some stimulating conversation (all of you dbs out there know who you are). I was openly mocked for asking someone if they were on "the face book" and we discussed the election and some other stuff that I just can't remember right now. And I apologize to T for asking him a million times about his job, when in fact he is a real estate agent and his job is pretty much in the toilet. It was the mimosa talking.

So thanks to the B's for a super great party and thanks to Ms. B's Brother who brought some great champagne and didn't mock us too much. It was so great in fact, that poor Dan was treated to three napping ladies in the car on the way home.

(Oh and not to worry, we were FINE. Dan wanted to be sure you all know that I took some dramatic license here, and we were not stinking drunk in front of our kids.)

I've posted some photos of our adorable offspring in the slide show in case you are interested.

Jamming out, 70's style

So today in the minivan, somewhere between the farmers' market and Target, Brickhouse came on the radio. Doodle exclaims from the back seat, "Turn it up, Mom! That Brickhouse is my favorite song!!" Moo says, "Turn it up, Mom, real loud!!" Doodle sang the chorus and Moo chimed in with the "Shake it down, shake it down now."

See, I love 70's music. Currently in my car is a two disc set of 70's Gold (purchased from Costco, in case any of you are 70's music freaks like me) and the essential Earth, Wind and Fire. I happily received the entire Neil Diamond music library for Christmas one year. I know, it's a problem....... and, as an aside, aren't you totally creeped out that "Sweet Caroline" was actually written for a pre-pubescent Caroline Kennedy?? It almost ruins it for me.

A few songs later, Doodle says, "Nama loves this one!" It was "I Feel Love" by Donna Summer. Yeah, I KNOW she likes that one. See, I come by my taste in music naturally. I have vivid childhood memories of my mom blasting the radio and singing at the top of her lungs in her giant powder blue Mercury Marquis to either 70's, Motown, or Broadway musicals (a different story for a different day).

When my mom took the girls a few weekends ago. I left my music in the car. When she returned the minivan, she remarked at how much she liked the radio station I selected, and was astounded as to how few commercials there were. Uh, Mom? That was the 70's Gold CD, not the radio. There are like 20 songs on each disc. At least now I know what get her for Christmas.

So we rounded out the errands trip with YMCA. Doodle wanted to know what the YMCA was. Great....where to go with that one? I told her that it was a great workout place and sometimes they are also nice hotels. What??? It was the best I could do at the time!

Chalk it all up to another issue they will be dealing with in therapy.

My Secret is Mary Freaking Poppins

Some of you wonder how I manage to work, spend time with my kids, volunteer and generally show up most places with at least some makeup on and talk in complete sentences. Some is accomplished through not much sleep and type A energy. Some is due to Dan and family and friends' support. But mostly, it is possible because we have our very own Mary Poppins. For those of you who have ever tried to secure childcare, you understand how difficult it is to find someone great. If you find someone who has half a brain, is pleasant, dependable and on time, you feel like you have hit the jackpot. The Nutty Family, my friends, has not only won the lottery, we are up to our ears in Mary Poppins goodness. She is kind and cheerful and crafty and my kids love her. I will brag for one moment more, bear with me. So......the illustrator from Fancy Nancy was coming to our local bookstore and I emailed Mary Poppins. If it were me, I would have taken the girls, had a book autographed, and left it at that. But Mary Poppins got the girls all excited, they dressed up like Fancy Nancy, had the book autographed (in pink pen with hearts, no less, addressed to Princess Doodle and Princess Moo Bear) and......wait for it, TOOK PICTURES!!!
Whew, I am basking in her greatness. So here is a shout out to Mary Poppins, you know who you are, thank you for all that you do for us. We heart you. If you want a different nickname than Mary Poppins, let's talk. That's all I had in me today.

Oh, and she is young and cute and hip - not schoolmarmish at all.

One more thing.... when I showed up at Family Fun Day at preschool, there was some confusion with some of the new moms and dads. Seems as though they had met Mary Poppins at drop-off and pick-up and they had met Dan (he's home some Fridays) at drop-off and pick-up and because they are blond and the princesses are blond they made some assumptions and....thought that he had scored a hot,young, trendy wife! Sorry to ruin your street cred with the preschool set honey!

Edit to add that in addition to being awesome yesterday and most everyday, Mary P spent the morning in between gymnastics class and a b-day party for the girls' friend, at Target searching for pirates to go with a b-day gift that I came up with that had a pirate raft and a pirate island, but no pirates. She rocks!

Instant Karma's Gonna Get You- Squirrel Style

So..... many of you have asked about the squirrel bite in my tagging post. That bite, in an of itself, is not very interesting. However, I have a colorful history with these suckers.

In our old house, I started hearing noises....the pitter-patter of little feet in the eaves. I thought we had mice so I called an exterminator who told me that I had squirrels! He taught me the following facts:
1. Squirrels can squeeze through a hole the size of a quarter.
2. They mate like crazy if they find a warm place to do so, i.e. your heated eaves.
3. They are territorial, so they will return to the nest.
4. It is illegal to kill squirrels in my state.

Very helpful, thanks. So we bought a humane squirrel trap. We learned that you catch more squirrels with peanut butter than cheese (Good one Dan! They'll love the Kraft singles!). Every morning for more than a week we would catch a squirrel and drive them miles away to the forest preserve (aka squirrel park to my kids) where they could be reunited with other squirrels. After we trapped and released for a while, Dan got up on the roof to seal off the tiny entrance. Thus, I thought my squirrel days were over.

Fast forward a year and we moved into a new house, another 100+ year old house. We got all garden-y at this house. One day, Dan in an effort to be helpful, comes home from the Costco with a ginormous bag of gladiola bulbs. We're talking more than 100 bulbs. And I planted every one of those suckers and I don't even LIKE gladiolas. Guess what? Squirrel fact #5, Squirrels LOVE plant bulbs. They are like CRACK to squirrels. Forget the nuts, plant some bulbs! The squirrels ate some in the fall and the remainder in the spring when they sprouted. Needless to say, I was pissed.

Enter the squirrel bite. We had become a popular hangout for the squirrel crowd. Party in the nerds' yard, bring your squirrel posse! I was feeding them bulbs and the neighbors were feeding them nuts, why wouldn't they like our yard? One day, I was going into the alley, not paying attention and laid my hand on the ivy covered fence gate. A squirrel was there, he bit me and hissed. Thankfully, no skin was broken so no rabies shots for me!

So then I blog about my squirrel bite. Enter Karma, with a capital K. Not 24 hours after I post about the bite, I'm in the guest room at night and hear scratching. Damned if it wasn't a varmint trying to chew his way out of the wall. I wake Dan. He was really helpful, "Go back to sleep honey, you're imagining things." Ha! In the morning he claims he was just trying to get me to go back to sleep but really believed me, but I digress. The varmint was bigger than a mouse, trust me, and he really liked the taste of the wood trim. I spent most of the morning stomping on the floor and knocking on the walls yelling, "Show yourselves you little bastards!"

So my hero puts out the squirrel trap, and not 24 hours later, there is silence in the house, no varmints. Dan finds a squirrel hole on the roof (he's now an expert on identifying squirrel gnaw marks) and seals it up.

Which brings us to squirrel fact #6, Squirrels read the blog.

For your viewing pleasure, I've inserted some gratuitous Star Wars-themed squirrel pics. And if you want to see way more photos of squirrels dressed up in funny outfits, click here it's where I got the photo of the Darth Vader Squirrel. I rather enjoyed the site, seeing someone dress up the squirrels and post some humiliating pictures of them on the web. Take that squirrels!

Ethiopian Food Experiment

We tried our hand at making homemade Ethiopian food yesterday, and it went pretty well. We made Alicha Sega Wot (mild beef stew), kik Wot (red lentil stew) and Warm Cabbage (from Marcus Samuelsson's cookbook, The Soul of a New Cuisine. The recipes for the Alicha Sega Wot and kik Wot were taken from the ethiopianspices.com website, where we got some of the spices and the bread, the injera. Next time, I would make a few adjustments, like less oil in the beef stew, and no lentils in the warm cabbage. Also, I mixed red and green lentils in the stew and the green cooked way longer than the red, so the consistency is a little off. I had to add way more water (2+ cups more) to the lentil stew than the recipe called for. One tip, the beef stew can be started on the stove (I browned the meat and caramelized the onions first) and then thrown in a crockpot (5 hours on low). Also, thanks to the staff at our local Penzey's Spices. They helped us find some spices from the Samuelsson cookbook that go by other names than the names he used in the book.

On a side note, Dan made the cabbage dish on his own, even making the Ethiopian spiced butter, the nit'ir quibe. He's getting to be handy in the kitchen, branching out from the grill, spaghetti, frozen pizza, and trader joe's simmer sauces.

They're Not Young

So for the last three Saturday mornings, I've been volunteering with the Obama campaign. Basically, I get up super ass early and help prepare volunteers who are going to canvass in other states (my state, thankfully, is very blue). Sometimes, I bring breakfast treats--note that Obama volunteers seem to love Dunkin' Doughnuts (the chocolate ones-- jelly ones and those big long johns with vanilla icing just sit there), diet coke, and coffee. Coincidence? You be the judge.

Anywhoo, when I started to volunteer, I received emails from a coordinator who used phrases like, "if you like that action, you can show up at.....". Based on these emails, and all of the talk of young people getting involved, I expected to show up on that first Saturday and see all of these 20 and 30 year olds sipping their lattes, talking politics, texting, super excited...maybe even a few teenage environmentalists. Boy, was I wrong!! The coordinator who sent me the hip email is probably a very spry 68-72 year old who talks about her retired husband needing a walker occasionally. The woman who prepares the canvassers clocks in at about 62, and one of the senior organizers is a 48-50 year old woman. They ARE energetic, and devoted to the cause, but they are not young. Most of the volunteers aren't spring chickens, either. I think one week, out of about 50 volunteers, we had two teenagers and one person in her 20s. The majority were in the 50s and 60s.

Now I'm proud of these folks, and they make my measly effort seem pathetic. I'm glad that they've made me one of their peeps, but it was a surprise. I suppose in other areas there are more young folks, or they are participating on facebook or something--but in my neck of the woods, they are mature.

So here's a shout out to my Dems, I'm off to make my phone calls for Obama.

P.S. If you live in my state (you know who you are) and want to help, let me know and I can hook you up with my campaign friends. Oh and vote early if you can.

Tagged!

Ok so Cheryl tagged me...and to be honest, this freaked me out. Even though I went public with this blog to the CHSFS adoption forum and a few friends, I never imagined that anyone would ever really read my blog. In fact, I was too scared to install a counter lest it would stay at 5 for like forever. I truly thought that only my best friend R was reading. I was wrong. So here goes with the tag, and thanks to Cheryl making me put myself out there.

1. I have a pathological love for my minivan (Toyota Sienna, for those of you who care, bought used with less than 30,000 miles on it, on my 4th wedding anniversary).
2. I have a pathological fear of vomit.
3. I love most 80's movies, most notably Top Gun, and could watch it for hours reciting the lines.
4. I may be the only person in North America who doesn't like cinnamon.
5. Despite my allergies to and disdain for most normal household pets, I will spend days nursing our parakeets and beta fish back to health.
6. I was once bitten by a squirrel.
7. I have a nerd fetish (according to my DH). He might be right, I have a soft spot for the intellectual dorky looking men. Notably, I have a love for Al Gore, Noah Wylie in his ER days and Michael Cera.

I'm going to tag a few folks who probably don't even know I've been reading their blogs, so this should be interesting: Julie, Holly and the Steinbergs. Most others I read have been tagged before.

These socks were made for walking.....

I have about 15 socks from my girls that are without partners. Every load of laundry I do, I hope to make a match, to no avail. They are unique, too, not just the white ones. We've lost socks with hearts, socks with stripes, socks with bows, yellow socks, purple and green striped socks, socks with ice cream cones on them, socks with minnie mouse on them, socks with monkeys on them, etc. We have equal opportunity sock loss going on.

I found one hiding the other day in between the cushions of the couch (gross, I know, but we have two little girls, people!!! Our cleaning person and my husband can only do so much). So I asked the Doodle where she was hiding the socks. She replied, " I don't HIDE them Mommy, they just walk away." "Well, why don't you stop them, then?" "They are sneaky and fast."

Lucky Number #13

So, after this last round of referrals, we are #13 on the unofficial list for CHSFS! I'm still not expecting a referral before December, but I am heartened by the fact that the list is moving. Here's hoping for another batch of referrals real soon!

Overheard

Doodle says, "Moo, you hurt my feelings today when you were at the jungle gym at the park and didn't want to play with me."

Moo, "Well T and I were playing knights and princesses and if you wanted to be a knight or a princess you could play with us."

Doodle, "But I didn't want to be a knight or a princess. I wanted to play climbing trees."

Moo,"We didn't want to play climbing trees. Knights and princesses only."

Doodle, "You hurt my feelings."

Moo, "Ok. Next time if you want to play you need to be a knight or a princess."

Doodle, "But I don't WANT to be a knight or a princess."

Moo, "Ok. Whatever."

And that was the end of it. Weird, just when I think they are just little girls, they act like they are about 30 years old, totally in touch with their feelings.

The Accidental Pumpkin

So we composted our pumpkins from last Halloween. A few seeds must have gotten through to the composter because we had some weeds in our flower beds this summer that looked quite a bit like pumpkin vines. We let some vines grow and lo and behold we are growing ourselves a pumpkin. You can see it in this photo peeking under the leaves. I think we might also be growing some corn. Stay tuned.

Riddle me this....

Why is it that when my children go to Grandmas' for the weekend, when I drop them off, my heart is about to break into pieces, but when it is time for them to come home, I'm not ready? Seems like just when I am remembering who I am as a person, not just a mom, and who D and I are as a couple without children, they are back? I'm not complaining, something felt right last night with a little person snuggled up next to me. But I wonder.....

Also, I would like to know why we were always late to events before children? Did we just have our heads up our you-know-whats? We're actually reasonably on time now and life is more complicated. Deep thoughts.

This Pisses Me Off.....

So Bushie is now cutting birth control supplies to women in Africa....see link below. So we'll cut off birth control to poor women in Africa because we are pro-life but because there are fewer or no options for family planning, more women will die in childbirth. So that make sense. Not. Add it to the list of why I hate Bushie. Thanks to my friend S, who passed this along.
NYT Op-Ed Article- Can This Be Pro Life?

If you are interested in women and their birth experiences in Africa, and more specifically fistulas, you might want to read The Hospital by the River: A Story of Hope by Catherine Hamlin and John Little. Here's a link to the book on Amazon

Crafts, continued

Another craft for the week was to tie-dye white t-shirts, using the white circles as pumpkins for jack-o-lanterns. We got through the whole rubber band phase, and my children did not abandon me until stirring the shirts in the dye became "boring." My fingernails are still a bit orange.

Fast forward to the decorating stage. I have the tendency to be a bit of a perfectionist. Crafty doodle did not disappoint. She put on one big rubber band and made a shirt worthy of the cover of a crafty magazine. While I was helping the Doodle, I hear these noises coming from Moo: Pshew, crackle, zoom (make rocket ship noises to yourself here). I was afraid to look up. She had put about 50 rubber bands on her shirt, so I knew that there were plenty of pumpkins to fill in. Well, as she describes it, her shirt needed a little green zoom, Jackson Pollack style. Both shirts are cute, and reflective of their personalities.

Eat your heart out, Martha!

So, I hate when other moms post photos of their crafty projects. I am jealous of their crafty ability and their wonderful results, and frankly, I'm tired of the bragging. Do you know what happens to people like me? Karma bites them in the ass and they get a daughter who LIVES for crafts. Seriously. Every day I hear, "Mommy, can we do a craft? Please?" What's worse is that I think she has more craft ability than I do. Actually, I know so.

Because we are spending this coming weekend away from the kids and I have some guilt whenever we do, I went to the crafty store and bought some supplies for this week. One craft was a gingerbread haunted house. Should have been easy, fun even. Not really. For the life of me, I could not figure out how to put the remarkably similar pieces together. Enter the Doodle, who figures it out in about six seconds. Schooled by a five year old.

Note that the Doodle would not pose with her masterpiece. Her sister, the Moo, is not shy about grabbing the glory.

Moving on Up!

This is my first post, so don't expect much. We got some great news today, that our placement agency, CHSFS, has started referrals again after a looooong hiatus. The new "unofficial list" is not updated yet, but by my count we have moved from #22 to #17. This move puts us in the top 30-35 families waiting for an infant (previously, we were in the top 40). Woo Hoo!

Of course, I had given up on a referral before the holidays, so we went ahead and took a family photo this weekend. I would love to send an annoucement with our family holiday cards this year!