A voice like an angel

Well, not exactly.

In his defense, have you ever tried to sing along with those books? I can hold a tune with the best of them, but those books are at a pitch nobody could accompany very well.

It was sure cute, though, him sitting there by the tree singing Christmas carols to his heart's content.

Unfortunately impossible

This is what Pam wrote on her website in response to filing for divorce from K1d Rock.

What the hell does that mean?

It's unfortunately impossible to stay married even four months after all the hoopla of having three weddings?

O Christmas Tree

Once upon a time MFH and I went to the woods for our Christmas tree. I must have the perfect Christmas tree - you know the one. No bare spots, symmetrical all around. etc. Then we started going to tree lots, because it was just easier than hiking in the woods in the snow. For hours. But now we were spending hours driving from lot to lot for the perfect tree. It was ridiculous. And then we'd get home, and the tree would be too big for our small room.

Now?

Artificial tree. It's just easier. They are perfect every year. And the lights are already on there! They don't shed and they don't need water. The other day I actually saw a remote control tree. You don't have to put it together, just push a button and it rises out of a pile on the floor. Okay that one kind of creeped me out, because what is the basis of the tree constructed out of? Does it have branches?

Anyway, we put our tree up Saturday night. The Boy got to decorate the bottom third all by himself. He did a nice job, if I do say so myself. Every tree should have a couple dozen candy canes on the bottom third of the tree.



This is a pretty big deal for me. I used to spend days decorating the tree, switching the ornaments around and making sure the tinsel was exactly the same length on both sides of the branch.

This year?

I wouldn't change a thing.

The One that got away

I don't usually cook Thanksgiving dinner. I like to spend it in the city with my mom just so I can partake of the shopping opportunities the next day. This year it just didn't work out to leave Joel, even though he's Canadian and could not care less about our holiday. I didn't want to leave the 17 year old unsupervised overnight. So, we are hosting and our families will join us. All four of them that live within driving distance.

Am I stressed? Not really. I love to cook, and what could be easier than turkey?

The Boy woke me up last night at 3:00 with, "Please mommy! Come!" He settled down quickly and I went back to bed.

My thoughts turned to The Girl. I don't think of her often.

In 1997 my nephew told us of a young woman that had a baby girl that she did not want to parent. She was six months old and bi-racial. Would we be interested in adopting her?

We had to put things together very quickly. We hired an attorney, scheduled a homestudy with an agency, and got her a plane ticket. She flew in. The Girl was beautiful. We had a social worker meet them to make sure this is what bmom wanted and give her opportunity for counseling. The social worker told me, "I have never met a woman more unattached to a baby. I doubt she will change her mind, but she is a flight risk." We needed her to meet with the judge and terminate her parental rights. First we had to have the homestudy, and they were backed up.

In a well orchestrated plan, Bmom left the baby with her sister, and took off for the airport to leave town. On the way she was in an accident. There was an outstanding warrant for her arrest and she was thrown in jail.

Sister called and asked us to take the baby. She could not take care of her.

Yes, we had the baby in our home.

Bmom called and wanted us to bail her out of jail. Legal counsel forbade us to do that. I can see why. Did we want her to turn to us everytime she had a problem for the rest of our lives? No. I wanted her to keep in touch with the baby. In reality, I think she would have moved on with her life and not even done that - until she needed something. We wanted to raise the baby, not the mother.

In the end, out of spite, she terminated the adoption proceedings. Then, she left the baby with her grandmother and skipped town. We grieved this loss, and it took us five years to move on to another adoption. This time international, with fewer risks. Even though it is rare, MFH said, "It will be over my dead body that anyone ever takes a child from my home again."

I am a firm believer in "it was meant to be". If we hadn't lost The Girl, we might never have received The Boy.

I am so thankful for my many blessings. I am most thankful for my son, and the woman who gave me the opportunity to become his mother.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

It's definitely Monday

A member of management gave his notice this morning, after receiving a 40% cut in salary on Friday afternoon at 5:30. He looked tired. All I could say was "wow".

It seems sneaky and cowardly of the president and general manager. Shame on them.

I worry. Not for me alone, but for everyone. This is not the type of thing that would have happened when I came to work here 15.5 years ago.

Then?

I just got a call from the preschool. There are two confirmed cases of strep throat at The Boy's school.

I am expecting both of our families for Thanksgiving dinner.

Sigh.

Window of Opportunity

I've been thinking about writing this post for quite some time. Whether or not I hit "publish post" remains to be seen.

I was in my early thirties when I started consulting with a highly reknowned OB in our area regarding IVF. He had what my husband and I fondly called a "live birth rate" in the 90th percentile. I think he chose his patients carefully to be able to tout those high numbers, but then I really can't be sure of that. It could also very well be that we are a small community, and most people went into the bigger cities to have these types of consultations. Either way, I was impressed with his statistics.

"If you want to pursue IVF we have a very small window of opportunity," he said. "I would want to do it when you are no older than 36 years."

He also told me I have a lovely uterus and there was plenty of room in there for a baby, but I think that was just sweet talk.

Isn't it funny that I can't recall why we didn't pursue IVF? I guess as the years passed, and my window of opportunity slammed shut, we made some major decisions without it having much of an impact in my memory bank.

I do know that it mattered not to either of us whether our child shared our DNA. Let's face it. We both have some mud in our gene pools that we weren't crazy about passing on to the next generation.

I'm glad we made the decision we did, because I cannot imagine my life without my son. He is the child I have been waiting my whole life to hold. From the moment I looked at the first sweet picture of his little self, my heart has belonged to him.

I expect someday he'll ask why we adopted instead of having "our own" baby.

I would hate it if he ever thought even for a fleeting moment that adoption was our last choice in our quest to become a family.

Have you ever

seen the commercial where the blond girl is twirling her hair and she says "I don't eat meat. I'm a ve-tri-nar-i-an."?

Veterinarian, vegetarian, to-ma-to, to-mah-to. It's all the same.

I think she is the vet who examined my Coal at the clinic on Tuesday.

We have taken our dogs to this same clinic all their lives. Girl-vet called MFH and said she was concerned with Coal's raspy breathing. MFH says, "He's been that way ever since Dr. H did the trachial tie-back." Oh. He had a trachial tie-back? She didn't see that. Well, that explains the breathing. She's then concerned about the lameness in his leg seemingly without injury. MFH says, "He had an ACL injury that we didn't know about until much later in his life. It's all in his file. Did you even read his file?"

Sheesh.

Coal is doing much, much better. He's eating again, walking better, and wagging his tail a lot.

You're welcome, buddy.

Whoa!

I went to my stylist for a foil weave Monday.

Apparently I waited too long between visits.

My son didn't recognize me.

Okay, I'm just kidding about that.

But everytime I look in the mirror?

I am shocked at all the blondeness!

Coal

This is my other baby, Coal.

He will be 13 years old on December 3. Initially we brought him home so our other lab would have a buddy. He became my buddy, too.

MFH had to drop Coal off at the vet's today. He has an abscessed tooth. He also has a shoulder that has always given him fits, but has become worse with the change of seasons. We are hoping the doc can give him some medication to keep that shoulder working and feeling good through the winter. The tooth will likely have to be pulled.

I realize he's old for a lab. But, his eyes are clear, his mind is sharp, and there is nothing wrong with his hearing.

MFH told them no heroics. I agreed to that.

I'm not ready to say goodbye.

Update: To pull the tooth they have to put him under. He is not a good candidate for that. He will be given antibiotics instead and if the abscess returns we will revisit the situation. He is going on Rimadyl for his leg, which is what I expected. I will never be ready to say goodbye, but at least this will buy us some time.

Suck It, Wizard

I have always hated The Wizard of Oz. Wicked witches with flying monkees? Who needs that visual.

One day several months ago, we were eating at Applebee's and sat directly next to the big poster of said production. The Boy was very curious about the movie, and in his words, "wanted to see what it is all about". I told him that some day it would be on television and we'd watch it.

It was on last night, and I should have known better. Immediately I could tell that he was kind of freaked out, so we tried to change the channel and he protested...loudly. So, we made sure we talked him through what was happening and made light of that silly old witch and played up how funny the munchkins and the cowardly lion are. After it was over we made sure he knew it was all make believe and the product of someone's (sick and twisted) imagination.

We were up off and on ALL night.

At one point he cried, "I'm not getting any sleep!"

No kidding.

Insensitive

Shortly after we brought our son home from Guatemala, he and I were out shopping at a local craft store. We ran into a woman we know, J, who's husband used to work with MFH. Our husbands still speak occasionally, and from this I knew that they were adopting through a local Christian organization. They are very religious.

This was the conversation that took place:

J: I heard you were adopting. How long has he been home?

Me: We've been home a month.

J: Oh, he's so big. How old is he?

Me: He's 11 months.

J: Wow. You didn't get him when he was a baby?

Me: He's still a baby. He's just not an infant.

By this time I'm getting angry, and what's more, hurt. I could have educated her on international adoption, but I figured what's the use? Then she said this:

"Well, we're getting a Montana baby!"

I didn't know what to say. I mean, really. Here I was, such a proud mother with this very handsome little boy in my cart, thinking I was the luckiest woman in the world, and she was making him seem inferior. How very Christian of her.

So I said, "We have a Montana baby, too. He arrived in Montana via Guatemala."

And I turned and walked away, still stinging.

Bitch.

I'm so glad this election is OVER

This is the newly elected Democratic senator from our great state. It was a race that made national headlines. Even Leno mentioned it on his late night show.

There was a lot of mud slinging in this campaign. The television and radio were consumed with ads. And, there were a lot of those recorded phone messages, which just put me over the top. I am so less inclined to vote for a person that insists on interrupting dinner with my family with a phone call that reveals a recorded message.

Or some nosey person wanting to know how I plan to vote. It's none of your damned business. Isn't that one of the privileges of living in this country?

I really enjoyed this picture of the senator with his family, though. It appeared on the front page of the major newspaper publication in our state. I only hope that if I ever win an election, my gangsta son will show up to my victory party sans his dew rag.

Although, you know I do LOVE me some long hair.

Size Doesn't Matter

There are a lot of kids in The Boy's hockey group. Most of them are older than him. Therefore, most of them are bigger than him. The organizers do group them as best they can by first year, second year, and third year. Skill levels are all over the place. The Boy is grouped with first year, obviously, even though one boy in his group can barely stand on skates at all and one other literally cried the entire first practice.

Monday night was fun. They got to skate with their sticks and play the puck for the first time.

Bear in mind, we've been playing kitchen, patio, and pond hockey for more than two years. We've watched a lot of hockey. And, we've had hockey players coaching The Boy for nearly that same amount of time.

I was watching the kids skate around the rink. A boy that is one head taller than The Boy skated up next to him, stuck his stick out, and tripped him.

My son got up, squared up, and threw his shoulder into tall kid, knocking him down.

This, my friends, is called a body check.

And, it's illegal until you are about 12 years old.

He was scolded.

I was laughing on the sidelines.

It took everything I had not to yell out, "Nice hit!"

Again With The Fashion Police

Did I miss something in my perusing of the fall catalogs?

Are purple suede leisure suits THE must have for women this season?

What's In A Name?

We did not keep any portion of our son's birth name.

**GASP**

I know.

When we started the adoption process I used the internet to look up countries that had programs so we could decide on a direction in which to go. Then, I used the internet to find an agency to facilitate our adoption.

I did not know about any forums or boards or listservs or blogs that we could turn to ask questions or for advice. We were only the fourth family to use our agency for their Guatemala program, so that wasn't really a good resource either.

On the evening that we signed the paperwork with our agency, MFH and I were discussing names. I said that we should come up with a strong male name because I felt sure we would have a boy. We threw some names out there on the table when I mentioned a name I liked but it was so common. MFH came up with a variation that just worked.

We did not know that many, many people keep the birthname at least as a middle name if nothing else. When our agency called us with a referral, they asked what we were going to name him. Even they didn't mention keeping his birthname.

In Guatemala, most of the people have a first name, middle name, last name, last name. The Boy had an awful first name, last name, last name - no middle name.

On forums when you mention changing the birthname you get flamed big time. It's like you are stripping the child of his identity. I think by giving him the name we chose based on love and our desire to bring a child into our family, we also gave him an identity. We put a lot of thought and feeling into naming him, and he shares his middle name with generations of men who came before him in our family.

Do I think he'll hate us one day for changing his name? I don't know. A few weeks ago I was discussing this with my brother-in-law. He brought up a good point.

If he feels that strongly about it when he's older, he can always change it back.

Heritage

When you adopt a child internationally or transracially, one thing to consider is how to incorporate their heritage into their upbringing. Certainly there are no rules regarding this, and from family to family and child to child it will vary greatly.

For instance, I have a good friend who was adopted from Korea 28 years ago. She has a few ethnic items displayed around her house. Her parents offered to take her back to Korea to visit when she was a teenager, but she was not interested, and she still isn't. This is her country and her family here is what matters to her. She is now 29 years old and I guess her feelings could change later on, but I know her well and I doubt that will happen.

At four years old, The Boy is all hockey and Power Rangers. We have a beautiful hardbound book on Guatemala which he has never opened. He does love, however, the photo album we compiled for him from his pick up trip. We have some handcarved instruments from Guatemala displayed in his room which he doesn't play with, and some toys that he'll pick up occasionally. We serve tamales on Christmas Eve, which he won't eat. We have a pinata on his birthday which he loves. On Easter we sneak up on each other and smash brightly colored eggs filled with confetti on our heads.

It's got to be age appropriate and for now we just try to keep it fun.

We do plan to take him back to Guatemala to visit when he is older. I hope he wants to return to see the beautiful country where he was born.

Today is Day of the De@d in Guatem@la. It's a national holiday in which the people picnic at the gravesites of their loved ones, decorating the area with flowers and painting the tombstones bright colors.

Today is also the Kite Festival. The people paint these elaborate kites, and they write messages on the tail to be taken to those that have departed this earth when they fly the kite.

I think that's a lovely sentiment. When The Boy gets older, this is a part of his culture that I would like to share with him.