The gift that noone wanted

So all of you know by now that my holiday season wasn't shaping up so well.  We had the strep and the family stress and the other nonsense.  The strep turned out to be the scarlet fever variant of strep, complete with a rash on Moo and strawberry tongues on two of the three girls (Doodle and Moo). And then, as we were going to bed on Christmas night, Moo tells me her head itches.  Oh, yes (I know all of you are now reflexively scratching your heads).  Dan took a quick look and said, "If it is the real  cooties, nothing we can do about it until the morning." He went to bed. But when Moo started to cry, I rooted around in the basement.  We still had the lice meds we took with us to Ethiopia.  As luck would have it, we only used the scabies meds we brought and not the head lice meds.  Wahoo!  So Moo and I spent the better part of the evening showering, shampooing, doing research on the internet, stripping beds and de-lousing.  Thankfully, I think we caught the lice early on.  And thankfully, none of the rest of us have it.  I still spent the remainder of the weekend prophylacticly treating heads, cleaning, vacuuming, washing clothes, and alternately heating and freezing things.  We've got one more round of treatment to go, but so far, Moo's head is still clear (as are the rest of us).  I can't stop randomly scratching my head, though when I think (or write about it).  It's going to make all the people at work today very nervous.

I felt so bad as I packed up all the Amer*can G*rl dolls and the Barb*es and the P*llow Pets and the most favored Christmas toys and sealed them in plastic bags.  Poor Moo was so tired and sad by the time the evening early morning was over.  I ended up convinced that we have far too many pillows and stuffed toys and blankets--and was inappropriately bitter about it at 2 am.

I'm sure our neighbors think we are really crazy and have piles of garbage on our porch, but it's just bags and bags of items we can't wash or dry clean that need to be frozen for a few days.   We added the car seats out there just this morning!  I just can't bring myself to tell the neighbors why our backyard suddenly resembles a junkyard.

And let me tell you, calling all of your Christmas guests to tell them that they had been exposed to lice was really fun. I keep calling our house the lice house and am half convinced we'll never have guests again. 

I suppose we were doomed.  We've gotten no fewer than 4 or 5 letters home about lice (and scabies) from the school.  It's been going around kindergarten and the first grade.  Some of Moo's friends already had it. But really, did it have to be on Christmas night?!

So I'm done.  I surrender, universe.  I've held it together for a while, but am losing it.  I cry "Uncle." I'm sure things will look better after a full night's sleep, but for now it's grim at our house.

The Spirit of Christmas

This has been a difficult week to 10 days for us.  A very close family member of ours has/had a serious medical condition and an extended hospital stay (I'm not going to say any more here.  It's her story to tell, not mine). We've had family members staying with us, and others popping in and out--some coming from afar.  All three kids have strep.  The garbage disposal has died.  Dan was out of commission for a few days with a minor thing.  We're planning on hosting Christmas Eve and Christmas and hoping that we won't be celebrating at the hospital.

But in all of this, amidst the fear and the tears and the stress, there are good things, too.   Seeing Three follow my aunt/godmother around and scream like she is a rock star every single time Three sees her.  Finally uploading Skype, so that after this is all over, the family can stay in better contact.  Being reminded that true families come together not by blood but by mutual love and respect and support.  Spending time with relatives in a quiet space.  Giving comfort.  Receiving comfort.  Living in the moment, as hard as that can be.  Having a reminder that life can be fragile and precious.  Having the opportunity to tell people and show them how much you love them. A reminder that the holidays are about love and family, not gifts and lavish meals. I could go on and on.

The blessing here is that we've experienced the true spirit of Christmas.   And for that I am thankful.

Say What?

I'm away on a business trip, but this nugget of goodness happened before I left.  We were in the kitchen, the whole family.  I was working on dinner, Dan was loading the dishwasher, all of the girls were talking at once.  I wasn't really paying attention until I heard, in the cutest, tiniest girl voice:  "And THAT really pissed me off."

Ahh, it was the Moo.  And she used the language in the correct way.  I was kinda proud.  And I kid you not, my first thought was "oh, shit."  I KNOW, very helpful, right.

Me, quizzically, "Did you just say that something pissed you off?"

Three, in a sing-songy voice: "Pissed off, pissed off pissed off pissed off pissed off, piiiiiiiiiiiisssssssed off off off."

Moo:  "Yeah."

Silence.  Dan and I pause and look at one another.

Me: "Well that isn't a very nice way to put it.  I know that I say that phrase all the time, Moo, but it is one of those things I shouldn't say.  I should choose better words.  And saying that you are pissed off is one of those unfair things that adults can do but kids shouldn't.  It's not nice manners."

Moo:  "Ok."

Dan: "This one was all you...."

Me:  "I'm aware. But I'm sure your turn is coming soon."

Three

Me, making breakfast, cutting strawberries, getting coffee, pouring cereal:  "Moo, eat your eggs."

Moo:  "I already ate my eggs."

Me, distracted: "Oh, sorry, I meant Doodle."

Doodle:"I don't like eggs."

Me, passing out plates and coffee now: "Crap, I meant TTM.  TTM, eat your eggs."

Dan: "Just call her Three, it's easier."

A few minutes later....

Moo:  "Mom, Three has poop!"

I think it's gonna stick.

Overheard-- 'Tis the Season for Tinker Bell

TTM:  "Tinker Bell, Tinker Bell, Tinker Bell Rock!"

Me:  "Don't you mean Jingle Bell Rock?  Like this:  Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock!"

TTM:  "No.  Tinker Bell.  Watch Tinker Bell?  Please?  (now at the top of her lungs) "Tinker Bell, Tinker Bell, Tinker Bell ROCK!"

So TTM is obsessed with Tinker Bell.  She's seen all three of the movies, but she prefers the most recent one, the fairy rescue.  Wonder how many other holiday songs Tinker Bell will join this season?

Come to the Dark Side......

Matchy Matchy Footie Pajamas

Give some love to a fellow Star Wars Nerd!

So there is a little girl (a first grader) who was bullied at school for carrying a Star Wars water bottle-- and, it seems, for being different (adopted and having an eye issue).  I am so thankful that my Doodle (also a first grade girl) has never had an issue carrying her Star Wars water bottle to school . . . or for that matter has never been teased about the fluffer-nutter sandwiches I cut into the shape of the Millenium Falcon and TIE Fighters--yet.

If you have time, check out her mom's blog post and leave a comment.  Mom and daughter read the comments together and mom is collecting the comments to be made into a book for her daughter.  I think the comments are directed to a second post, she is so popular.  In this case, I think the more love the better.

Peas, They're Not Just for Dinner Anymore

So our Teeny Tiny Mousy (TTM) loves peas.  And the other night I was on high alert since we were having peas for dinner and she has this raspy phlegmy cough.  Thanks to Dan and his experience with elderly patients, I now fear that the girls will aspirate peas and other small, round foods. I'm that person who cuts the hot dog wheels into quarters, cuts grapes into quarters, etc.

Turns out I had more to fear than the aspiration--I caught her trying to put peas up her nose.  Alas, the popcorn kernels were not an isolated incident.   Any bets on what she shoves up her nose next?

Doctor's Wife, My A**

So I was on one of my favorite blogs the other day, Everyone Needs Therapy.  If you haven't checked it out, you should.  But this post isn't about her blog.  I looked to the sidebar, as it seemed like quite a few new blogs were added.  Among the gems, I found one written by "the doc's (almost) wife" (I'm not going to link it here, I'm protesting). It was all about being the wife of an orthopaedic surgery resident.  This was not really a blog about the soon to be wife, mind you, it was all about residency and job interviews, and match, etc. 

There were a few other similar blogs on the sidebar of the "the doc's (almost) wife."  So I googled doctor's wife.  Several more blogs popped up.  To be fair, I haven't looked at all of them, but SERIOUSLY?  These women (for the most part) are blogging about being Doctor's Wives????  These bloggers have no identity of their own other than blogging about their partners' careers?  Lame.  One even mentioned being a feminist.  Really?  A feminist. Blogging about your husband's career? 

See, I've been with my husband for many, many years.  I have an understanding of medical school and residency and beyond.  And while it was hard and my husband is super smart, he's not all that and a bag of chips.  He's a person, not a god.  Just because he did well in medical school and is a doctor does not mean that I will genuflect to his staggering accomplishment on a daily basis (sorry, honey, but I think you already knew that.)

I would never blog about myself as an appendage to the great and mighty doctor I'm married to.  I am my OWN person.  With my OWN identity.  With my OWN career, thank you very much (and, in case you are counting, which I am not, I have more advanced degrees than my husband--okay, maybe I'm counting just a little).

In reality, it is sad that these bloggers don't feel like they have enough to say on their own.  Or if they do have something to say, they feel more people will listen if they are a doctor's wife. 

I hear it though, in our world.  "OOOOh, you are married to a DOCTOR!"  "You're SO lucky to be married to a doctor!" "Can you ask Dan about [insert name of weird illness] here?" I get the cards addressed to Dr. and Mrs. Daniel Evans (and they piss me off, by the way.  I kept my name when we got married ten years ago, get over it).  I'm not sure what this gets me in the lottery of life.  Yes, I can ask him what the weird rash is that I have, but he's not great at diagnosing kids' ear infections and we argue about how to treat our own and our kids' various illnesses. 

I'm proud of my husband and the work he does every day.  I'm just a heck of a lot more than a doctor's wife.

The Doodle, our math/science brain!?

Of all of our girls, Doodle is the most like me.  Verbal with a wonderful creative streak.  Sensitive.  Remembers everything.  Warm and welcoming once you get to know her.  Sometimes lacks a filter.  Keenly focused on fairness.  Curious.  Loves organization and lists.  Stubborn.  Loyal to her friends.  Perfectionist. Loves to be in control.  She is so like me in so many ways that I was surprised when we had teacher conferences.

Apparently, the Doodle is great at math and science.  She is also an accomplished and talented artist for her age.  She does just fine at reading but is very quick with numbers.  See, I had made the assumption that because she was like me in many ways, our strengths would be the same.  Not so.  It was a great reminder to keep our expectations of our kids in check.  The good news is, I wasn't actively trying to fit her in a mold or force her one way or another.  It was just that my lens, my perceptions, didn't quite match reality. 


I knew that the Doodle was good at math.  She loves her math homework and wants to do it first.  I knew that she was good at science--I don't know any other kids that as toddlers would watch the BBC Earth documentaries over and over.  It was just that I had never really thought of her as a math and science person. 

Don't get me wrong, ever since Mrs. Guinand scarred me in junior high math, I was determined that our girls would embrace math.  I ordered all sorts of educational toys to increase spacial awareness and math readiness.  I was determined not to pass on my self doubt about math to them.  I've been actively TRYING to raise Science and Math Geeks, with a capital G.

I'm glad she loves math and science.  I'm going to encourage her.  But I'm also going to try to keep my labels in check and try not to over emphasize any one subject over another.  While it's great she is a science/math kid, I'm going to try and make sure that is not all she is.

I'm also going to research serious art classes for kids her age--something I know very little about.  Not sure where the artistic talent came from, but I'm going to try and nurture it.

This was a great lesson in parenting.  And a wonderful reminder to embrace our children as they are, for who they are. 

She said it better than I could- Can we stop the hate?

I've been sickened about the recent suicides of gay teens who have been bullied.  I've been thinking of posts in my head and composing, but the words haven't come together.  Then, I read this post today at Love Isn't Enough and it really resonated with me.

Here's that post again.

It Has Begun

Today I got in the shower and all of my nice shower gel was missing.  You know, the kind that you buy and savor, the kind that is the opposite of "I'm desperate at Targ*t and the baby is screaming so let's just throw the first shower gel I see into the cart so we can get out of here."

Me:  "Girls, do you know what happened to my shower gel?"

Doodle:  "Yeah, it's in our bathroom.  We needed it to take showers while you were gone."

Me:  "You needed both of them???"

Doodle: "Yeah, Moo likes the strawberry and I like the almond. Can you buy us some of that?"

It has begun.  The last vestiges of the things that were completely mine are now gone-- at least most of them (I'm pretty sure they are not ready for bras, yet, although they do like to wear my heels).  The little luxuries that were mine alone are now fair game.  I'm going to need a lock for the medicine cabinet--and not for the medicine, for my good face stuff (the stuff that I buy that I am too embarrassed to admit to my husband how much it costs).  And what is truly stunning about this?  They are SEVEN and SIX, not SIXTEEN and SEVENTEEN.

At least they have good taste.  Sigh.

The Mystery of G, Solved!

I took Kevin's advice (at least with respect to the letter and not with respect to gambling) and sent an email to the company that made the "Meet the Letters" DVD.  To my surprise, the president of the company replied to my email, twice.

The first email simply read:  goggles/glasses.  Kathy

The second email read: Btw, you aren't the first one to ask!  I wish we had done something different with that character!  Kathy

I'm thinking that after reading my email, she was thinking, dammit, not another person asking about G again!  Then realized her terse reply was a bit harsh and sent the second email.  Or not.

Anywhoo, the mystery of G is solved.

Gum, it's not just for soccer anymore and Letter Overload

Since the gum worked so well with soccer, we decided to try it with reading.  Doodle is very self-conscious and sensitive, so when we are reading when she comes to a word she doesn't know, she starts to tear up.  The new bribe rule is that if she reads her decodable books without crying, she gets a piece of gum.  Works like a charm.  Soon I'll be asking for cures for gum in the hair, gum on the clothes, etc.

In other news, the magical unicorn seems to be working.  Moo wears it to school everyday and we're up to 12 days in a row without crying.

As for the Newbie, she's doing great.  She's now obsessed with the mouse in Goodnight Moon.  She scours the pages looking for the "teeny tiny mousy" or TTM.  And she says it in the cutest little voice.  It's the Newbie's new nickname:  Teeny Tiny Mousy, or TTM for short.  I'm currently scrapping the Elmo idea for Halloween and am in search of a "Teeny Tiny Mousy" costume in a size 18-24 months.  I'd appreciate leads.  I'm not having much luck.

Our TTM  is also obsessed with this DVD. We bought this one and "Meet the Sight Words" for the Doodle since she is such a visual learner.  We put the "Meet the Letters" DVD on the other day and she (TTM) is literally obsessed.  While I see the educational value and know that the DVD is better than other cartoons, it is SO boring it makes me want to stick a fork in my eye. Repeatedly. The DVD consists of animated letters, uppercase and lowercase doing an activity while saying their name, "A......A......A."  Seriously, when you get to Z your head is ready to explode.  Also, all the letters are doing an activity that matches their letter; i.e. D is dancing, N is napping,  H is a house, etc.  G, well, G is in a baby pool with a snorkel.  If any of you have any ideas, I'm open to hearing them.  It drives me nuts and it drove Mary Poppins nuts, too to wonder what in the heck that wacko G was supposed to be doing--and we've watched this DVD so many times we had plenty of time to ponder the G.  By the end of Doodle's time with the DVD we were/are quite hostile towards G.

We do no TV or screen time at least two weeknights a week and last night was one of those nights.  TTM lost it.  "Letters.  Letters please.  Letters please MOMMA.  I WANT LETTERS TV NOW!"  It was ugly.  Full blown temper tantrum.

In a desperate attempt to save my sanity and Hoosier Girl's sanity, we bought "Meet the Colors" and "Meet the Numbers." No dice.  TTM's only obsessed with the letters.  On the up side, she is really learning her letters.

So that's it.  Our lives in a nutshell-- gum, unicorns and letters.  I'm sure you're all jealous.

Motivation, No. Gum, Yes!!

(photo credit: popsop.com)

The Doodle lacks a certain motivation, a "fire in the belly" if you will.  For example, she likes soccer.  She likes to practice soccer.  She LOVES her red soccer shoes.  She goes willingly to her soccer games. She knows defense and offense and that the goalie can use her hands inside the box.  She can see where the ball is going and is among the pack of kids around the ball.  However, in the games that I watched, I never saw her actually kick the ball.  What's worse is that she galloped or even pranced to it, not always going at full speed.  The Doodle twirled her hair.  She ran to the ball and would then chill out like, "What ball? I wasn't really going to kick it, I was just getting close to it."  This drove me NUTS.  She was a bit afraid, but mostly she didn't seem to want to do it.  This year especially, she was one of the taller kids, so she really didn't have much to fear.

I am not competitive in a mean spirited sort of way, but I am a fairly motivated person.  I played competitive sports--well, volleyball and tennis and competitive badminton, if that counts (and in my mind it does).  When I want something, there are no limits to the lists and planning and effort I will put in to get what I want.  Doodle and I are alike, very much so, except for this one fact. Oh, that and the fact that she's way more girly than I am.  If there is something else I cannot stand, it is a wimpy girly-girl.  I was so fired up about this soccer thing and trying not to show it.

At first, I solved the problem by avoiding the games when I could.  We had the "give it your best" talk and the "support your team" talk.  Nothing.  Then I was talking to some folks at work.  "Bribery," they said.  "Nothing big, like a DS game, but something small, like candy or gum."  Hmmm, I thought.  Gum.  Doodle loves gum.

So two weeks ago, I told her that I would give her a stick of gum every time she touched a ball and a whole pack of gum if she scored a goal.  I even bought the gigantic size of her favorite gum at Cost*o.  I was ready.  Then, we had a rain out.

Last Saturday though, was the first outing with the gum.  I began to feel guilty.  Why I am I bribing her to do something she should want to do?  I did ask her if she liked soccer and she said "yes"(emphatically).  What to do?

Well, TEN sticks of gum later, she had a great game.  Doodle did so well her coach had her on middle forward on offense most of the time.  I've been trying to emphasize how much fun soccer is when you touch the ball.

For now, it worked.  I'm going to have to figure out if I'm comfortable with the bribe.  After the game, Moo asked if she could try soccer next year.  Was it the fun or the gum?

Why? Why?

Last night, the Newbie put three un-popped popcorn kernels up her nose. One in one nostril, two in the other. I was not prepared for this.

That is all.

Dinner Conversation, Glitter Edition

Me: Moo, I'm surprised you want to be Cleopatra this year for Halloween. Why did you make that choice?

Moo: Well, she has a beautiful dress and a sparkly necklace and jewelry.

Me: I'm just surprised that you don't want to be Darth Vader again.

Moo: He just doesn't have enough glitter. He's just not sparkly enough.

Me: We could put some sparkly glitter on his electronic pad in the front....

Moo: He just doesn't wear enough jewelry. He needs more jewels and sparkle.

Me: Oh.

Some chewing, some thrown food from the Newbie.....

Me: For one year, could we all dress up for Halloween as a family? With a theme?

Dan: That would make your mom very happy, guys. She loves a theme. Maybe we could all be characters from Clone Wars.

Doodle: I know, we can wrap the Newbie in toilet paper, and sprinkle her in green glitter like dirt! She can be a mummy and Moo and I can both be Cleopatra.

Me: That's not exactly what I had in mind.

The power of the magical unicorn

One of my favorite things about my job is that there are many professional women who are also moms. They have given me amazing advice about various kid issues and negotiating the mine field that is stay at home moms vs. working moms in elementary school.

Moobear is having a hard time now at school. Despite the fact that her first week was amazing, last week and this week she cries every morning. She tells me that she misses me at school. And that she only has 2 friends at recess and she wants 5. Sigh. I expected this from Doodle, but not my outgoing Moo.

I spoke with one of the moms at my firm on Friday, and she told me that I needed an "imp." She had a tiny pin, the "imp," that her great grandfather brought back from India during the war. She made up the legend of the imp such that it kept her great grandfather safe during the war. It, follows, then that if the imp could keep her great grandfather safe during the war, it could also help her son get through giving a speech at school.

I decided that we would have a magical unicorn. I was obsessed with unicorns as a child. I had unicorn posters and even a giant stuffed unicorn. I even received a gold unicorn pendant as a gift from my godmother, Auntie Angie.

I searched on Friday, and found a similar, if not the same, pendant. I ordered Moo her own, but today sent her off with my pendant around her neck. I lied told her that I received the unicorn as a gift when I started a new school and that it helped me with my fear. "This unicorn has magical powers. It will help you get through the day. See, it has a star on it to show how magical this is. It is very special to me, so don't lose it."

It is special to me, that much is true. I couldn't believe at the time that my Aunt had found such a beautiful pendant. I probably received it when I was 12 or 13 and I've kept it all these years. I even wear it from time to time.

I guess I'll know at the end of the day if it worked or not. If not, we'll be the mom and the sobbing daughter at drop-off wearing matching unicorn pendants.

First Day of School, and Not

Today was Moobear's first day of school. She was up at 7, dressed by 7:02 and was ready to go. We convinced her that breakfast would be a good idea and schlepped off to kindergarten. It is an understatement to say that she is excited.
Doodle, on the other hand, did not go to school today. She woke up last night with a fever. She doesn't have a stomach bug, but every time she gets sick she gets heartburn/barfs, so here's a photo of her this morning with her barf bowl. It occurs to me that this isn't our bowl. Sorry Auntie Angie! I understand if you don't want it back.

A great trip to the Dells and my bully

This weekend we joined two other families from our Ethiopia travel group at the Dells. The weekend started off with a bang--a late start, traffic near Janesville, and......Dan forgot to pack the bag with my stuff and the Newbie's stuff in it. While he suggests that we should split the blame 50-50, I disagree. He was the one packing the car, he saw our bag--and the kicker--he's forgotten my bag before. Thankfully there was a very nice outlet mall there and I got everything I needed, including a mom-skirted swimsuit. I am happy to report I took the high road and didn't make a big deal about it, except here on the blog. I didn't want to ruin our weekend by whining. The one issue was that I didn't have my glasses, so once my contacts were out, Dan or one of the girls had to lead me to bed-- I am that blind without corrective lenses. In the morning, they had to hand me the contact case since I couldn't even see it on the nightstand!

I can't describe how amazing it was to be with our travel friends again. To ask questions that I had been wondering about. To see how much the kids have grown, but still are the same. To be with people who remember how sick the Newbie was, and can appreciate her development. To share stories, some not so nice, about what it is like to bring home a baby from Ethiopia. To relax and talk and laugh and remember. The bond we have is very special and I feel blessed that we had the opportunity to spend the weekend together. I am so thankful that the other families had this great idea and chose to invite us! I'm thrilled that this will be an annual event.

All of our kids got along very well, and my big girls have another special friend now. The Newbie was in rare form-- a total ham, dancing it up, loving the water. However, she also started pinching. Not a cute pinch on the cheeks, but quite a menacing pinch and usually not provoked. We had a few naughty chairs and two time-ins. I felt like I was yelling all weekend--not my best mom moment. However, we can be flexible about some things but not causing physical pain. I was embarassed by her behavior and frustrated. Dan thinks that I was taking things to personally and that almost-two-year-olds act out. Probably the truth lies somewhere in the middle of both of our perspectives.

I turned to my adoptive family forum, and they did not disappoint. A quote from one of the moms, "All behavior is communication." I'm going to reflect on that and try and figure out what was going on. Maybe too much vacation laxity and not enough routine. Although, her targets most often were the other adopted kids. Maybe there is something there, maybe not. She did get a time out for pulling out a clump of the Doodle's hair. I put Hoosier Girl on alert, and I'm going to see if the pinching persists.

Are they all yours?

We're at the party store and all three girls are in the matchy matchy outfits the older girls picked out at Cos*co. The Newbie is scared of the balloons being inflated from the big helium cannisters. The older girls are comforting her, "It's ok sissy. It's ok." Then the dude behind the register looks at all of us and asks,"Are they all yours?" Well, duh. Instead of a lecture, I just say,"Um, yeah." with the attitude of how stupid are you really? At least he didn't ask any more questions after that.

Tooth Fairy Fail

The last time Doodle lost a tooth, the Tooth Fairy left quite a bit of loot, but forgot the tooth! See the Tooth Fairy only had a $20, a $5, and some odd change and was very sleep deprived. So Doodle got the $5 and change but she was hysterical and upset that the Tooth Fairy didn't want her tooth. We told her the tooth bag of the Tooth Fairy was full and that she'd likely swing by another night to pick up the tooth. Doodle left the Tooth Fairy a helpful note:


Translated, the note reads,"Dear Tooth Fairy, You forgot my tooth. Tooth is inside stuffed toy." The Tooth Fairy did remember to pick up the tooth and left a necklace and some change. You would think that the Tooth Fairy would get smart and keep some singles around, but frankly, we are not that swift. Or prepared.

It's not just the Tooth Fairy who's making this difficult. Remember when Doodle's tooth went down the sink? This time, she lost the tooth in the pool--the large public pool. Thanks to Hoosier Girl, who ran an efficient search and rescue mission for the tooth with some borrowed goggles, the Tooth Fairy came last night. Here's a picture of my big girl:


The Tooth Fairy should have been a big spender for this tooth, it was the giant front tooth. However, since the Tooth Fairy invested lots of money in the tooth for the first two times it was fractured, culminating with a crown the second time, she was not happy to be paying the third time around. In fact, the Tooth Fairy was a bit bitter to be holding several hundred dollars (with insurance, no less!) of a tooth in her hands. She did get past it enough to leave a couple of bucks, though and the Doodle was happy. Let's hope the Tooth Fairy can stay on her game.

She's Normal?!!

The challenge with an adopted kid, I think, is always wondering, "is this due to adoption? malnutrition? genetics? difficult birth? Just plain normal for her? Regular developmental step?"

Despite the cause, when the Newbie (boy, do I need a new name, she's been home for over a year) came home we dived into the world of Early Intervention. That meant DT once a month, OT every-other week, music therapy class and DT/PT playgroup once a week. We also had her evaluated for speech, she qualified and then was on the waiting list for a loooong time. I liked this, the therapists gave me action plans and things to do and new areas of focus. For a type-A person, it was great. In the confusion when your child first comes home and you are getting to know on another, it was great to have a plan, some structure. Now work on eye contact, the pincher grasp, hand strength, alternating weight shift, the vocabulary! Ok, it's time for therapy balls, wooden puzzles, blocks, now shape sorters!!! Hey, what about stairs?! Climb them! They also gave me hope--she WILL crawl, she WILL walk, she WILL call you by name, yes, the biting IS a developmental phase. And, sure enough, the Newbie did all the right things in all the right orders--just a bit late in some cases.

Since it has been a year, we are doing her re-evaluation. We haven't had our "official" group meeting yet, but I think OT and DT are done--she really doesn't have any needs. PT wants to see her a couple of times a month to keep an eye on her flat feet (orthodics in her future, maybe) and loose-but-getting-better ligaments.

Speech was this morning. The nice therapist diligently wrote all my concerns down, spent two hours with us and then told me that the Newbie was completely normal. What??? She wouldn't even recommend a speech therapy group. Her recommendation? That the two of us spend more time with two year olds. The Newbie needs to be with other well- spoken two year olds. I need to remember what the expectations are for normal two year old speech. It has been a while! Wow. I think the therapist thought I should have been elated and instead I was a little down.

See, I know we're good parents. And the nutritional issues are past us, and even the DT and OT stuff. The Newbie's progress is amazing! But....these services were my safety net. They picked up on things I had missed, etc. And we'll never know how much of the progress was therapy, how much was nutritious food and enough of it and how much was nurture. I know in my heart we'll be fine, but I'm a little sad that this advice and frankly, the community, is coming to an end. Just when I'm getting good at navigating Early Intervention--but that is another post for another day.

The end of all these activities will also mean the end of my relief pitcher. Too tired to read goodnight moon 47 times? It's ok, she had playgroup today! We're up for the challenge, but I'm sad to see them go.

So thank you to our therapists. I don't think we could have done it without you. I'm off to find some two year olds to play with!

Behind in life...

I was out of town for two weeks so I have vacation and mothers' day pictures to post and I owe my readers some words. Here is one of my favorite mothers' day pics to tide you over until I can spare some time to be on the computer.

We found the good attitude!

Doodle has this super awesome kindergarten teacher, Mrs. I. Doodle's had the best year in kindergarten, and this means so much to me. I was so afraid my sensitive Doodle would be crushed by unkind kids. Since we've heard Mrs. I's not looping next year, I'm desperately hoping that Moo gets her for a kindergarten teacher.

I did in fact alert Mrs. I to the missing attitude via email, and I received a reply:
"We found it. It waited for her in her locker. I hope she brought it home." I love that Mrs. I didn't think I was a total weirdo for sending the email, and played along with the Doodle. So thanks, Mrs. I!

I know it was around here somewhere.....

The Doodle had a rough day yesterday. It was back to school and a major letdown from spring break activities like Craftapalooza 2010 and trips to the aquarium and the nature museum (Thanks Hoosier Girl!). There was a meltdown before gymnastics and much infighting with Moobear. There was begging for sweets and TV. Then there was a naughty chair after Moo got hurt in the backyard and instead of helping her, Doodle hopped on the B*G Wheel she vacated and pedaled on. Finally, after Doodle calmed down, I asked her what happened to her good attitude? She started crying and in all seriousness said, "I left it at school in my locker and forgot to bring it home and now the school is locked!!!" More sobbing ensued. It took all of my willpower not to laugh. I just said, "Well, that is unfortunate." Then, I went out to the back deck where Dan was grilling and laughed until tears ran down my face. I MUST email the Doodle's teacher. We don't want to let that attitude escape when she opens her locker. Then we'll be in a world of hurt.

In other news, the Newbie is so addicted to chocolate that she is now trying to find wrappers in the garbage and lick the remaining chocolate off of them. Anybody have a lock on their garbage can? Perhaps those of you with pets could help me out with some suggestions?

Easter 2010

I posted more pictures from Easter in the slideshow on the right. I'm not sure why some are blurry--could be movement, even though I had the camera on the highest shutter speed possible, could be because the Newbie likes to lick the lens, could be my bad picture taking skills. Anyway, enjoy them. We discovered after a while that the Newbie could open the plastic eggs and was having a breakfast feast of chocolate. It's a good thing she's so cute, since she had us up almost all night the night before. My mom, brother and his boyfriend all spent the night, so we had a great time Easter morning.
The rest of my family joined us later in the day. We had a great meal, followed by an Easter pinata. I can't believe I didn't get any pictures of that!

Oh, and nobody tell my mom I posted pictures of her in her nightgown without makeup on the internet (I'm looking at you Auntie Marcia and Auntie Angie). I think she looks great, but she would freak out. Good thing she doesn't have a computer.

Heredity

The worst part of our collective genetics is being exercised in our children. The older girls had crowns put on 4 of their baby molars (3 for Moo, 1 for Doodle). The perfect storm of having teeth too close together(from me)and cavity attracting teeth (Dan). To top it all off with sprinkles, Doodle broke out in hives on the outside of her cheek after the procedure (hmmm, possible latex allergy--that's going to make for an interesting safe sex talk!). So, in addition to the dentist looking at me like I was a crack mother who gives my kids kool aid in flasks before bedtime (thanks for the image Jennifer!) I had to worry about the Doodle's new allergy.

Two days later, after removing a band aid on her face, she broke out into hives. Those are my genes, too, I have an allergy to colophony--which would not be a big deal, except that it means I can't decorate a real christmas tree, can't wear regular band aids and had several unfortunate incidents with waxing until I figured it all out. And of course, Doodle's a snotty mess now that spring has sprung, again, my bad genes. Truly, if this were prehistoric times, I would have been left by the herd and been eaten by a saber tooth tiger long before I procreated.

I've been giving her allergy meds, and asking Dan every day whether it's time to call the allergist. I think he's finally breaking down. I don't have the heart to tell Doodle about allergy testing and a possible childhood filled with allergy shots.

This morning, the Newbie started with the sniffles. And I think, nuts. I hope it's a cold. I would hope that after suffering the loss of her birthplace and her birth family, that she would at least be spared the worst of our crappy genetics and prove to be healthier and more fit than the rest of us. To have the benefit of the nurture without the crappiness of our combined natures. We'll see. Dan thinks it's allergies.

She likes it spicy!

This is just a quick post. We've been in the weeds for a while with various and sundry illnesses: tooth trouble, ear infections, hives, etc. More on that later.

Monday, Dan stayed home with the girls. The Newbie is in that stage where she likes to open and close everything-- cabinets, the garbage can, the recycling pail, etc. We're forever saying things like, "Get out of the trash!" "Do not play with the diaper pail!" "Do NOT put that in the toilet!" "Not for Newbies!"

Apparently, on Monday, the Newbie was digging in the trash, found a container of buffalo sauce and ate the heck out of it. I know, sooo gross. Dan found her, took a picture and emailed it to me at work (which was totally awesome). He then took the packet away and threw it in the garbage. Five minutes later, she had it again. Again, so gross. Eventually, Dan had to take the packet out to the alley garbage. We knew she loved spicy foods, but the buffalo sauce is new.

I apologize for the blurry picture. You know, heat of the moment and all of that!

Lost in Translation

Having two older sisters helps one's vocabulary I have learned, but it also tends to confuse things. At first, we could say to the Newbie, "Do you have stinky?" or "Are you stinky?" and she would point to her behind if she was indeed stinky. Sometimes she would point if we weren't even asking but needed a diaper change. Now if you ask her about the stinky, she reaches between her legs and pulls at the diaper in the crotch region like Madonna or, dare I say it, Michael Jackson?! We think she's trying to pull the diaper off, but who knows? I can't wait until she does it in public.

Also, if you ask her where her butt is, she usually points to it (Thanks, Doodle!). However, she's been walking around asking for "butt" recently. You open the fridge and she starts getting exited, "Butt Butt Butt!" She walks around agitated, trying to get your attention, "Butt, butt, butt!" We've tried to get her to point, to no avail. Best we can tell, butt refers to milk and/or food. Pork butt, anyone? Another mystery. Also fun in public.

All of this language confusion behavior seems to fit her personality. She's in a nude streaking phase, loves to take off her shoes and socks, and if she can get her clothes off she also rips her diaper off. You can tell when it is starting because she unzips her footie pajamas and walks around like Elvis first. I've taken to double onesies during the day to thwart her, but with spring approaching I'm going to need a new plan. T-shirts don't always come off, but the pants do--sometimes with a little help from her sisters.

If I'm your spokesperson, we are in trouble

Part of my work is in diversity. I work in an industry that is not very diverse and I'm fortunate to work at an employer who cares. Today, though, I was participating in a seminar about the status of diverse women in the profession. There happened to be no diverse women at the presentation. Someone asked me how I felt about the content, "As the mother of an african-american girl." Now I know the person who was asking, and wasn't personally offended, but. The but is, we often ask the one diverse person in the room to represent the viewpoint off all people of their ethnic background--i.e. the one black person in the room is asked to respond with the thoughts, feelings, vision for the entire black community--as if there is one unified view, this person is privy to it and speaks for everyone. Well, people, if we have to ask the white mother of the black baby who isn't old enough to talk in complete sentences let alone participate in a profession to represent the experience of all diverse professional women, we've got some serious problems. I know I'm in tune with the issues and I never miss an opportunity to talk, but please!

On the flip side, as a white woman of a certain socio-economic status, I have the luxury of a host of positive stereotypes attached to me. I could, before the Newbie, look at issues of race and ethnicity and racism in a more academic, detached way (at least until we told people we were adopting from Ethiopia and that is a story for another day)-- understanding, and being upset, but not feeling or being in the moment in an authentic way, if you know what I mean. I've had some experiences when I've been with my dad and stepmom (interracial marriage) that prepared me, but at some point it becomes even more personal in that hey, people, you're talking about my future child (or child who is home)here!!! I don't have that luxury to be anonymous or detached now and I don't miss it. I am grateful for these opportunities to peek behind the curtain. I'll never have the true experience of being black or ethiopian in america, but these moments help me "get it" in a visceral way. There is a difference between understanding the concept and being the target of it. The difference between reading about the experiences of other transracial families and standing in a grocery store and having comments or looks directed at you and your family. I'm grateful because each time something like this happens, I can be a more understanding and better momma to my Newbie and an example to her sisters. I'm certainly not naive about the world out there and I want to arm all of my children with an understanding of how the world, rather unfortunately, works. Racism is out there and to ignore it or pretend the world is colorblind is doing our children a disservice.

2030 Olympics, Here we come!

Overheard yesterday:

Doodle: Moo, Mom says there are bobsleds that can hold 4 people in them!

Moo: Bobsleds?

Doodle: Yeah, like on the Olympics.

Moo: Oh.

Doodle: We can be a team! A USA team! You, me and the Newbie.

Moo: That's THREE, not four.

Doodle: Oh, then Katie can be on our team, too. All four of us. We can go to the 'lympics.

Moo: Cool.

Doodle: I like to go fast. And I can drive.

Wow, if my younger brother is feeling old...

I got this today from my younger brother. He's 32. He works at a large university.

From Aaron: Here’s a conversation I had this morning with some student employees:

Students: That “We Are The World” song for Haiti is not that good considering how many stars are in it.

Aaron: Yes, I prefer the original version.

Students: What do you mean original version?

Aaron: The original version was recorded in the 80’s for Africa famine relief. That’s why the new version is called “We Are The World 25.”

Students: Oh, so that’s why those old clips of Michael Jackson are part of it. I thought 25 was referring to the number of people who were singing the song together.

Aaron: No, it’s called 25 because the original song came out 25 years ago. Quincy Jones, Michael Jackson and Lionel Ritchie wrote the song.

Students: Who’s Quincy Jones?

Aaron: Quincy Jones was Michael Jackson’s main producer back in the day. You guys seriously have never heard the original version of the song?

Students: No, like you said, that was 25 years ago. We’re all 19.

Updates

Well, the one person who reads my blog faithfully, my Auntie Marcia, has reminded me that it has been a while since I posted. I have a few posts in me, but thought I would give an update on the girls and what has been going on in our lives recently.

Doodle: We went to our second conference at school and she is doing great. She loves school and is making friends. She still has the love/hate relationship with this one little boy. The teacher knows all about our family, and asked if she might be so fascinated because he was brown like her Newbie. We thought about it, but she doesn't seem so fascinated with the brown girls in her class, although some are friends. We actually think she's so interested because she doesn't hang out with many boys--and there are only three boys in her class. This one happens to sit at her table. We really like her teacher--the homework calendar for this month included some Black history items, so we are so excited.
Doodle came home with some valentines from her valentines day party, so that was good. One never knows, but she was excited with her haul. Of course, the night before she tells me that she needs to bring a box for her valentines, so we are up late covering a box with wrapping paper and stickers. Typical. That in addition to the packet we need to do for student of the week, the usual homework, and reading. Kindergarten is so hard!
Doodle loves the Olympics, and will watch until we let her fall asleep on the couch (don't judge, she doesn't have school today). Even though she's been drawing pictures of ice skaters, she likes to watch the skiing best. She's particularly excited to see bobsledding, because it has the word "sled" in it. She spent the afternoon sledding off of the back stairs of our deck.

MooBear: Poor Moo had the croup and then got a double ear infection. Thank god for the pink medicine. It's weird that she had the croup at 5 years old, but whatever. At least it wasn't strep. About half of her preschool class was out last week with step. All of our three girls eventually got the croup, but Moo was the sickest.
Lately she's been really into drawing and making valentines and art. Her drawing/fine motor is really coming along. She's also very into legos. I've been telling the girls I'm not particularly good at legos. Dan makes these great things-- a crocodile, a shark, a plane. I have a complex. So this weekend I made a house. Moo told me it was just "ok" Nice blow to the ego there.

Newbie: What can I say? She's a handful. Her language is exploding. New words include: cool, what? (said with attitude), butt (thanks to Doodle), cocoa and mine. When Dan went to wake her up a few days ago, she responded with, "What???!!"
She's happy and stubborn and fun all at the same time. She's been sleeping better and for that I am grateful. She no longer wants to eat in her high chair, so I'm constantly trying to put food in front of her. Her weight has dropped a bit since she has become mobile, so I'm trying to keep her calories up.

At her last pediatrician appointment, she peed on the length measuring thing, shredded the paper on the table and escaped nude into the hallway when the nurse came in to ask us a question. Dr. Laura told me I finally had my boy.

The nice thing when Newbie was sick was that she would actually cuddle with us for more than 5 seconds. So much fun for me!

We've been working on her hand strength, so I got her a water table and those little animals that squirt so she can work her hands. She loves it!! We've tried playdough too, but she's afraid of it.

We got her new shoes, and her feet are two different sizes. She had a full on temper tantrum in the shoe store, which was fun. She wanted to go out in the mall. She would step outside the carpeted area of the store and then look back at me and start to walk out. I'd then have to carry her back screaming. If I focused on Doodle's shoes she would go out again. I eventually worked out a system with the shoe woman, that I would focus on one of the other girls and if she saw the Newbie try to escape, she would let me know. At the end, the saleslady complimented me on my patience. Sigh.

As for me, I got the croup, too, but am finally feeling better. I'll write more soon!

He's the Ethiopian Ski Team!!

Ethiopia has one skier in the Winter Olympics. Click here for a short video. Click here for an article.

We'll be cheering for him!

Working from home

I know it seems like lately this blog is all about the Newbie, and I promise I'll post soon about the other girls' antics. However, the Newbie, aka the Barnacle, had a spectacular morning working from home that I must share.

Today, I'm home. Sending an email to a committee to tell them that the id code for our conference call has changed. My employer has a variety of email lists. I've typed the email, and am typing the name of the committee, say it is called the "workers committee" in to "to" field of my email. Moo bear needs me upstairs. I help her and then I come downstairs to see this:

The Newbie is gleefully typing/banging on the computer. She looks a little bit like a mad scientist in pink santa pajamas working on a secret formula. I laugh, and take a picture of her with the computer's camera.

Then I realize that the email is gone. I think, "oh crap, she deleted the email." Then I realize, no, the email is showing sent. To ALL WORKERS in my company! Now, the dial in number meant for a few people sent to the whole group is not a big deal. I sent a disregard email, but I look like an idiot. No one is going to believe me that my 18 month old did it.