The Candy Parade

The next town over has their Freedom Festival the week before July 4th each year. Ava named it the candy parade when she was two years old since you pretty much get to see cheerleading clubs, Shriners driving mini cars, and John Deere trucks, big ass John Deere trucks. Oh, and everyone IN the parade throws candy at the kids sitting along the sidelines. Apparently this is huge fun when you are under 10, and quite frankly can be the highlight of any red-blooded American's (or Chinese American as the case may be) summer. Thus we have the candy parade. My girls LOVE it.

The snarky adults sitting second row simply toss bets around for just how many cheerleading clubs we will see sweating it out flip flopping through the parade that year. (We've gone to an over-under betting system in recent years...and I placed my over 12 and lost...I still think we should have counted the Cloggers and I want that noted for the record.)


Here is the motely crew before heading off to the candy parade. Livi is dutifully holding her candy bag, notice in red white and blue - for the occasion. We began taking the candy collection thing seriously in 2004 when Ava threw and elbow and took down an unsuspecting 6 year old, all for a necco wafer. This year I got in on the action and made them matching candy bags with the Freedom theme. Livi is doing her part by showing my handywork for posterity. She is my compliant child, and I love her for it.


Waiting, waiting, the candy tossing got off to a slow start this year.

Saw---weeet success. There is a tootsie roll in that bag, just look closer. Personally I can already see the effects of mega sugar intake on her little face.

Yes, that is me. Haven't the hours and hours at the gym done me well? Psst..don't answer that question, it was rhetorical. Despite my best efforts to always remain behind the Canon Powershot, Livi threatened to throw a whopper of a fit if I didn't let her take some photos. So much for the compliant child stuff.

This weekend we are off to our town's parade and festivities. Which actually had the 4th of July celebration on the 4th of July, novel yes?

I'm sure the candy mongers will be able to scam some more goodies to share.

What It Mean, I Born In China?

You know, the international adoption gig can be so strange as time passes, your kids grow up a little and you end up with two very normal little kids who beg to take gymnastics classes, ride bicycles in the cul-de-sac, and learn to float in swim lessons. Just like everyone else.

But then there are days that throw you a little. These are days that bring a flood of memories filled with hot dark civil affairs government buildings in Chinese capital cities, scared screaming babies, and Chinese officials speaking a mile a minute in a sea of chaos.

The fact that we could never get a straight answer on exactly where Ava spent her first 8 months of life in Yueyang County, Hunan has admittedly always bothered me. I've told myself it shouldn't since I got the gift of Ava, isn't a happy healthy beautiful child enough? I've told myself it isn't my story, it's hers, why should this continue to nag at my consciousness? Time has softened the "need to know more, need to know the whole truth". Although I have tried, I simply cannot let it completely go. In the back of my mind there is still something about her first 8 months of life that is locked up in a director's need to hold tight information he deemed possibly unnecessary or embarrassing for the orphanage.

The official paperwork stated she spent approximately 6 months in the orphanage. But, I have pictures showing the baby room empty with captions that read "babies in foster care due to construction". When I questioned our agency several months after we came home about any foster care, our agency reported that the orphanage stated that no records were kept on how long construction took and which babies were sent to be fostered. Due to the fact that this orphanage has always been relatively small and fully embroiled in the international adoption program with the CCAA, I found that hard to believe. Strict paperwork is required by the CCAA.

I had a sense that the director wasn't giving families full information when I met him the day after we met Ava. I thanked him for taking such good care of the 5 babies that came to us that day. He wouldn't look me in the eye. I told him I would send pictures of Ava as she grew. He bowed slightly and looked at his cell phone. I asked him for a business card to keep in touch, he told me through an interpreter that he had forgotten them that day, and that they weren't needed.

Over the years since 2002 a few families have been able to visit the orphanage, to my knowledge, more recently in 2007 and forward. I read these listserve posts when they return home over and over looking for bits of information that may piece the whole truth together. I print the photos of the orphanage and surrounding areas off to place in Ava's big box of all things adoption. Were the children fostered? What does fostering mean at Yueyang County? I suspect that when a child goes home with an orphanage employee at night, that might constitute fostering vs. living full time at a family residence.

Somewhere in about mid 2004 Yueyang County officials began telling families that their children were fostered. As Ava grew a few families posted that they were able to visit the orphanage. Some were allowed to take a few photos of the inside, some were not. Some were treated very kindly and were taken to lunch by the orphanage officials. Recently, a family traveled to Yueyang and was granted permission to visit the facility. When they inquired about their daughter's orphanage file, they were shown information they didn't know existed. A time and exact date of birth. The family shared an email address for the director. There is even a photo of the director, it is not the same man we met in Changsha in 2002.

I emailed the mother who visited just a few weeks ago and asked if she thought the director would check a file if a family made a request via email? She said it might be worth a try. I'm working on a draft to ask this director whether he would be kind enough to search for a file created and closed 7 years ago. I have no idea whether he would process such a request. I think that I will include a photo collage of the referral picture and a few photos of Ava growing up.

Just as the dust was settling on this issue yesterday another one boiled up. I was putting Olivia to bed and after her story she asked, "Mama, what it mean I born in China?" This is the first time she has shown any interest or understanding about her adoption. I did my best to explain "born in China" to my sleepy 3 year old. In typical Liv fashion she seemed to take it all in quietly and with great intent to understand. Then she asked to see pictures of China and our trip in 2006 when she woke up. Today we are looking through photos of our trips to China. I am reminded how time passes quickly. On some level, I suppose I am again determined to know all that I can about my babies precious first few months of life. Even if it means I have to keep asking.

Cul-De-Sac Summer Day 2

Is it just me or is that transition from school year delicious'ness called SCHEDULE into summertime ridiculous'ness eat what you want, sleep when you want, yell at your mom when your want just a little bit like driving toothpicks under your toenails? Maybe I'm just the type of gal who doesn't transition well. I remember being a manager at work several years ago in a new job and feeling way out of sorts when I didn't know with whom I would eat my lunch. I had to smack myself around a bit saying I was making way too much money and supervising way too many people to be worried about lunch, but I was. A few weeks later I'd inevitably adjust to whatever the situation was and wind up fine and dandy. I guess I'm your average hate the new "job" for a week or so and then settle down and relish each moment type of gal.

Last week was my official 1st week on the job as "At home Mom, to two." I was at the beach thinking Oh, this year will be easier...the girls are older...I'm used to transitioning to having 2 at home...and gee whizzz aren't they being rather well behaved?" Hmmph, I guess the fact that they weren't THAT much work had something to do with the Muffin Man and my father helping out quite a bit. Perhaps the good behavior had something to do with WE WERE IN PARADISE and all they had to do was choose between swimming in the gulf of Mexico or the fabulous resort pool. Oh yeah, ice cream at 3pm might have helped mood balance too.

Now reality has set in. Ava pitched a big bitch this morning when I wouldn't let her have sirloin soup for breakfast. Why we would even have sirloin soup in the pantry is a mystery to me. All this makes me think I need to take the Muffin Man's grocery card away, but that's another drama for another day. Liv insists on riding her two wheeler in the cul-de-sac about 18 hours a day in circus bear circles and can't understand why she keeps falling off and skinning her knee after the 10,000th lap. She looks at me like I'm ET when I try to tell her to do 5,000 to the left and 5,000 to the right. Presto, no skinned knee caused by vertigo.

I took them both grocery shopping with me this afternoon. You know where this is going right? Mayhem ensued and I threatened them loudly as they pulled organic crackers down off aisle 9. I rounded a corner and saw a mother with no less than 4 children, calmly walking beside her as she put toothpaste into the cart. These calm mothers need to give up the secret.

I'm just telling myself I simply need two weeks to get into the groove of the "new job". I'll be basking happily at the pool in no time right? I'll figure out a way to get Ava to practice her times tables and she will go to 2nd grade knowing what 3 times 4 equals. She loves her advanced math class, but we've hit the wall practicing times tables, period end of story. Livi will undoubtedly master the cartwheel this summer pulling herself off the bike and finding another way to contort her little body into rapid concentric circles. All will align for us in the universe. We will get our groove on, won't we?

UPDATED THIS MORNING: I decided to take the girls to the free park concert last night. I got the fried chicken and Polly Pockets packed in the cooler. We even had healthy carrots, or did we? I arrived at the concert in the next town and realized I'd left the packed cooler in the garage. I forgot to put the damned thing in the car. Oy. Looking forward to day 3 and 4 and 5 and 67. Day 67 is when school starts in case you're counting.

Oh Captiva, My Captiva

We're back, after our week in paradise. I'm all cranked out because I could move there, sit on a lonely beach and start margharita's at 3pm each and every day. Is that any way to live a life, accomplishing nothing, achieving little unless you count a pickled liver, and functioning at the rate of a sea snail? Probably not, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to want to trying it out for a few years or decades. Please oh, Vanguard accounts of the world...earn momma some vacation home dollars for a happy retirement.

My most stressful problem was how to keep Olivia from becoming polka dotted with the pesky skin condition that turns that adorable kid about 6 different shades of human within 1 week of being in the sun. I know she'll get me good for this one day but I made her wear a rather unattractive hat each and every moment we were outside. And the darn kid is still native brown. So far she's only lightly spotted, I'll report back if she enters techni color status for the summer.

Ava's lovely black silk hair quickly turned to fish wire as she swam in the pool and ocean every day. But, that's nothing a good baking soda and ultra swim shampoo treatment won't cure here when I get around to it.

Oh, yeah and there was the dilemma about whether or not to eat the Muffin Man's steak fajita's for three meals or four emptying a refrigerator full of leftovers onto my ass. I opted for three meals, and yes I'll be paying for it this week and next as the old summer wardrobe is not as comfy loose as it was 8 days ago. With these problems world peace would be a cinch for me. I'm ready to come work for Obama any day he makes that call and springs me from the cul-de-sac.

This week away from it all was about more than a hollywood glad rag magazine and flip flops. It was educational. We saw dolphins dancing off the side of a boat ride, jumping in the ocean as we built sand castles, and even hob nobbed with manatees at a local marina. Believe it or not the Muffin Man even saw a 9 ft. manatee glide by while he was swimming in the ocean. I probably would have freaked out and scared the poor barnacle infested thing over to the bay side, so it was good only he got to swim with the sea cow.

It's back to reality now. Kids are out of school, husband travels for work this summer and I'm left making nachos at 7pm for the kids, popping in a movie and calling it "family time"as justification for the not-so-nutricious-cheese fest. Stop on by the back yard for a lemonade.

Goodbye 1sts

Oh, dear...she's done with 1st grade. Graduated without fan fare, only the requisite cleaning of desks and an early dismissal this gorgeous May day. According to that last report card...that's it, she's done. They are kicking her to the streets for 9 weeks until they expect her back with bells on for 2nd grade. I told her we could celebrate with a quick trip to our favorite Sichuan joint up the street. We ate too many pork dumplings and spicy tofu plates. Tomorrow we kick off our summer holiday with a trip to our favorite little Florida island, Captiva. I will sit in my chair and watch her build sandcastles with her sister.

The second picture is exactly how she looked on that 1st day of 1st grade. Except for the missing front tooth now, I'd say she only looks a little smarter and a wee bit older.

Just as I am sure the 9 weeks of summer, trips to the pool, fire fly catching and mud pie making will be, this year has been fleeting and fast.

I tell her all the time we need to place a brick on her head. Not that she's in any danger of matching me at 6' tall any time soon, or in this lifetime, but I simply can't stand the fact that she's closer to 8 than 7 and she's better than me at fractions.

Miss Olivia had a small graduation of her own recently. Onto to her next year of preschool in September. Her school celebrated with a rousing rendition of Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear. I was dreaming Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear after hearing it no less than 6,000 times the last few weeks. In September she will start a three's preschool class. She knows all her letters and colors and I'm sure she'll be spouting off fraction facts soon too.

I'm not going to wax and wane anymore. I'm not going to cry...sniff sniff. I'm just going to relax this summer and try to catch their each and every move...until they drive me nuts that is and I'm praying to see that big yellow bus pull up again at the corner of the cul-de-sac.

Until then, let the summer games begin.

A little foodie love

Had a request for what was in that crock pot the other night. The one that made Ava do a happy meat jig. And since I am not above a good EASY crock pot recipe or casserole dish, I'm obliged to share a little foodie love. By the way, I love me a casserole and have some American thighs to show for it. Especially in the winter, smothered with cheese, bubbling up at 350 degrees for 1 hour in the oven. You know the kind you can still smell in the morning? And it is too cold to open the windows so you have to burn a Yankee candle? Oh yeah. Not one shred of east coast urban gal left in me...color me Indiana.

Well, here it is.

1. 1 big hunk of pork (I used a huge slab of pork shoulder that had probably been in the freezer since 1996. Kidding, I cleaned the freezer in '98 so it couldn't have been that old.) Defrost the thing, however you might.

2. Pour one can of beer in the crock pot.

3. Pour one jar of banana peppers juice and all into the crock pot.

That's it folks. The whole kit and kaboodle. Now, I let it simmer for 2 hours on high and then another 5-6 on low. But if you are a working stiff...put that puppy on low for 10 hours.

When you open the crock pot use a big fork to sort of pull it all apart, making it shredded. I swear I'd never eat loose meat never mind swoon over it. Good God, I feel as though I'm channeling my inner Paula Dean. Don't you just love her?

Now I know you are wondering...did she make that up? Oh hell no, you know me by now. Why invent it when you can steal it? I give full credit to a gal named Courtney, she hostessed a Pink Evita event recently and told me what was making her house smell yummylicious. It's her recipe or maybe her mother-in-laws, who really knows?

Go forth and make pulled pork. May the force be with you.

Alien Abduction

I suppose I could write about all the reasons why I couldn't post in the last umm...few weeks. I'll just cut to the chase and give it to your straight, I was abducted by aliens and they wouldn't let me have internet access. They had me wearing my hair in two buns over my ears and sitting in a stainless steel room in a white robe. They kept calling me by my catholic confirmation name, Leah and absolutely no wireless access.

In my bloggy absence it appears as if life has gone on here at the cul-de-sac. The 7 year old has declared herself more genetically related to her father (her words, not mine) due to the fact that she has discovered a true and deep everlasting love for meat. Yes, meat. I made pulled pork in the crock pot after the aliens dropped my ass back in suburbia and this is what I got.

Declaration that the adopted child does indeed have more of her father's ever-loving carnivorous self pulsing through her veins than the broccoli I've been pushing for six years. This scene was following by a very groovy happy meat dance. Highly entertaining, if you don't get out much like me.

Liv has been up to good stuff as well. She rides a bike now. She's three. No training wheels. Proving that her people were circus people, she spent 4 hours riding one way in a circle this past Sunday in the cul-de-sac. She never fell, not once.

It's strange but true. Her sister and friend next door were highly embarassed, as they only rode scooters until Sunday. They each hopped on a bike and started riding for the first time as well.




When you look at the last picture doesn't the music from Wizard of Oz when the wicked witch is riding her bike play in your head? Dunt dee dunt dee duhhh duhhh.

I was kidding about the alient abduction thing, no really I was. I'm jsut super busy with ye' old little business. Follow along as I post pictures of my new iron, the shark...and see if I can make 18 bags in 18 days while maintaining some semblence of mental sanity. Follow along at Pink Evita if you'd like.