The Kewl Beans Place

wandering in the desert

2009-02-26T21:18:00.001-06:00

I’ll jump right in. I find myself feeling like a failure on a daily basis as a parent. I wonder constantly if the issues that we face, Gallo and I, are simply the issues all families face or if they are a result of his adoption. Want an opinion? Surf the ‘net. Any opinion you want will be revealed.

This is normal two-year-old behavior. He’s establishing boundaries. He feels secure acting out at home. I’m doing everything right. Consistency is what he needs. Providing a safe place for him to explore his emotions.

He’s grieving his adoption. He doesn’t know how to put into the words the pain he is feeling. He’s angry. He hasn’t bonded with me. He will always have adoption trauma.

I have no idea what to think or how to feel about the going’s on in my house right now. As much as it sounds like it, this is not about me. I want to do what I can to make Gallo happy, to feel safe and loved. I have read dozens of books. They all have conflicting information. I’m truly seeking insight.

Gallo appears to be fully bonded with his father. He sees Mr. Beans as his primary care giver. I think it goes back to the second trip we made to Guatemala when we brought him home. The second night we were there I got sick – some stomach thing. It was hard enough for me to get out of bed without barfing everywhere. Besides, I didn’t know what it was (virus, food poisoning, etc.) and was afraid to make Gallo sick. So Mr. Beans took over. He changed Gallo; he fed him; he bathes him. Daddy took care of everything – including Mommy! We all got through it and came home.

Once home, Mommy stayed home from work for six weeks and became primary care giver. Mr. Beans was in school so he was home a lot in between classes and studying. Gallo got every bit of attention and focus. I was definitely nervous as a first-time mom and doubted my abilities all the time. Nonetheless, I plowed my way through it. Mr. Beans, already having two boys before Gallo, felt completely confident in his parenting abilities. Maybe Gallo picked up on that. I don’t know.

From the very beginning Mr. Beans and I split parenting responsibilities. We alternated bottles, baths and diaper changes to preparing meals, doing story time and putting him down for naps. Mr. Beans has gone out of town for a few days; so have I. We have long talks about one of us leaving then coming back. We talk about trips for days before they happen. We explain any changes in routines. Even if we thought he wouldn’t understand, we talked about it anyway.

Let me segue here to say that I have a degree in psychology. I have spent my entire adult life working with individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities. I understand developmental stages in various populations. I have written numerous behavioral intervention programs for countless individuals, many of which had the developmental capacity of a two year old or younger. And the plans worked when followed by the staff that had to implement them. This isn’t to flaunt my resume. I’m saying all of this to explain I’ve not only got a bunch of book knowledge; I’ve got real world experience. Unfortunately at my house, I’m not having the same success. And I’m starting to wonder if it’s something more.

What’s got me rambling is this current behavioral situation:

Gallo has begun to refuse to do anything for me. Every time I ask him to do anything he says “no.” Time to take a bath? Time to go pee in the potty? Time to wash hands? Help Mommy pick up the toys? “no”

No big deal. He’s two.

Problem is that he sets in his heals and then ends up in a rage. Let’s take bath time. After dinner he takes a bath. This has been the same routine for two years now. He gets down from the table and I tell him to go to his room to get ready for bath.

“No”

I ask him two-three times and waiting approximately 10-15 seconds between each request. He says “no” or ignores me.

I then physically escort him to his room. I calmly make a request. “Take off your shirt.” I wait. I get a “no” and then he either ignores me or more often than not, he glares at me – completely challenging my authority or request or whatever you want to call it.

I then make the request again. Same response from him. I then tell him either he takes his shirt off or Mommy is going to do it. He says no and I then physically remove his shirt. As soon as I start to remove his shirt he starts crying and screaming “No I do it!” If I stop and allow him to do it, he sits there. If I request that he take off his shirt. He goes back to “no.’ If I start to remove it, he begins to scream “No I do it.” This cycle will repeat as many times as I stop to allow him to do it.

We do this for each stage of the routine: his pants, his pull up, going to the bathroom to sit on the potty; getting into the bathtub, allowing my to bathe him, drying off, brushing teeth, getting pjs on.

My reaction each time is the same. I make the request twice, waiting in between 10-15 seconds. I repeat the request each time using the exact same words and tone of voice – remaining calm. On the third go round, I give him the option of doing it himself or Mommy is going to do it. He says no; I do it; he screams; repeat.

In the evening situation, he ends up hysterical and screaming through the whole nighttime process. We finally get to his room where I’m exhausted and he’s out of control. He’s not even looking at me; he’s crying and sobbing and inconsolable. I usually end up holding him to me talking quietly “calm down… use your words… tell Mommy what’s wrong…’ Eventually he gets it together. I try to talk about listening to Mommy, following directions, not hitting or screaming or whatever he was doing. He sits quietly and listens but as soon as I stop talking he will then make some random comment “What color is that?” etc. as if to say – yeah, ok, that’s all over. New topic. We sit in his chair, chat for a bit, sing some songs (he listens to a CD as he goes to sleep), then we have “last song” and he goes into his bed. We have our nightnight rituals (blanket, duck, tuck him in, love you, etc.)

I then head for the liquor cabinet.

He doesn’t do this with Daddy. Mr. Beans gets a little farting around but that’s about it. No major melt down. No hysterics.

Daycare:
Mr Beans picks him up and he runs to him. He’s excited and rattles off his day. When I pick him up, he sees me, gets happy for a split second, the frowns and asks “where’s Daddy?”

He often tells me at dinner; “You don’t talk to Daddy.” I finally asked him who gets to talk to Daddy and he tells me “Gallo talks to Daddy.”

Recently in the mornings he has begun to say he wants to “stay with Daddy” rather than go to school.

The biggest development of late is his suddenly saying, “Don’t go anywhere Daddy”: and “Don’t leave” even when no one is going anywhere. We can just be sitting in the living room and he’ll announce that. He’s never saying this to me. In the mornings when I leave for work he just wants a hug and a kiss and tells me bye-bye. One evening in his room while we were rocking he informs me “I miss Daddy.” (Mr Beans had a late evening and wasn’t home for dinner and didn’t come home until after Gallo went to bed. This doesn’t happen often.) I ask “Did you miss Daddy at dinner?” He then says “I miss Mommy Daddy Gallo” (We often refer to the family this way… saying everyone’s name… it’s a game when we’re doing something, going somewhere, etc. )

Now the adoption trauma people would say he’s missing his first family and he knows it but can’t verbalize that. Except that he was never with his first family. His foster family, with whom he did spend the first 7 ½ mos of this life, were “mama” and “papa.” Never Mommy and Daddy. They only spoke Spanish to him. When I speak Spanish to him, he doesn’t seem to be interested.

I’m mental; I know it. He’s obviously bonded to his father and I’m thankful for it. I just don’t know how to facilitate a bond between he and I. Nearly every interaction between the two of us is a negative one. When he is sweet or wants attention from me, it feels like a total manipulation. I can’t explain it but it’s as if I am a means to an end. He’ll hold my hand if I have some food he wants. He asks me to pick him up but only to see what’s on the counter. He only runs to me if Mr. Beans scolds him. Of course I hate to indulge him because that undermines Mr. Beans’ authority in the moment. I cave sometimes because I’m terrified to pass up any moment when he reaches out to me.

So here I am. I’m continuing to search and read and listen. I’m overreacting; I’m seeing something very real. I’m listening to a mother’s intuition; I’ve got no intuition to hear. My doubts are because I am a first time mother; my doubts are because I’m an adoptive mother.

Where does one start and the other begin?

I'm just lost

2008-04-24T13:44:00.001-06:00

Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. I’m constantly feeling no one is going be happy no matter which path I choose. Be aware of my white privilege. Don’t get bogged down with guilt about the past. Don’t decide how much support a person needs. Be aware if you offer support it might be rejected. Encourage connections with the community of your child’s ethnic origins. Be aware your child’s ethnic community may not welcome you. WTF? I have enough trouble just figuring how to get home on the interstate during my hour commute home without getting run off the road in time to have dinner with my 20 month old and give him a bath and have story time before falling into bed too exhausted to have sex with my husband. Now I have to be the damn U.N.?

I’m constantly trying to make a difference. One idea at a time. One situation at a time. I use positive adoption language. I challenge stereotypes in my family and friends. I try to walk the talk. It’s hard and I’m finding myself unpopular among even my beloved family members. “Why do you have to be so defensive about everything?” I find myself wondering “Why do adoptees seem to put so much damn stock in genetics? I know my genetic family members intimately and I don’t share much with these people other than non visible DNA strands.” But it’s not my decision to decide how they should feel. It’s that individual’s decision. Of course, my son is only 20 months old …. so laying in bed awake at night because I read a blog that tells me the mere fact that I stole him from his first family and brought him to a different country and ruined him for life probably isn’t the best use of my time. There’s laundry to do. And my co-worker just informed me that if I haven’t started to potty train before he’s two, it’ll be harder to train him. And make sure I teach him standing up. Boys have to learn that way. Right. Check.

My point is that I can’t be all things to all people. I’m trying; I really am. I am so tired of hearing that as an adoptive parent my ideas and feelings are at the bottom of the heap. In the same breath, I’m told that my thoughts and feelings are always given paramount credence and I have all the power. Really? Please tell me where the power is because some it needs to start doing the dishes. I can’t be bothered. Birthmother blogs talk about being victimized and treated like whores and garbage. I try to be empathetic. I try to be attentive and listen and rarely comment so that I don’t inflame their rage or their hurt. So I simply read to learn, and end up being the evitable emotional punching bag. It’s a hat I’m getting used to wearing. I find myself constantly trying to figure out how if it’s all about the child, the adoptee, then why am I still being told what an evil troll I am and how I need to ever mindful of the pain of his first family? I’m wondering why it isn’t more important to be there for my son and to help him, when he’s cognitively and emotionally ready, to discuss these issues. I’m not sure how being in a constant state of anguish for his mother in Guatemala does anything positive for him. How does being a constant beacon of doom and gloom and martyrdom help anyone? I’m just lost.

This isn’t statistical. It’s simply an anecdotal personal experience. I have two stepsons. They live in Germany because their biological mother is German. Mr. Beans married her when he was stationed there. (It’s the stereotypical American soldier marries local girl while stationed in foreign country story.) Fast forward, the marriage ended and there were two children. Children should be with their mothers, right? Fast forward and the children are now 16 and 13. Ask the boys if they are American or German. They’ll tell you American. They don’t speak English and have never lived here. They visit when finances allow. (ie. when their father and I can afford it because their mother refuses to assist.) The oldest hates his mother. Tell him how much he looks like her and he’s likely to fly into a rage that lasts for hours. No matter how much he’s encouraged to develop a relationship with her, he refuses. He hates her. (His words, not mine.) Everyone tells him that he will feel guilty when he’s older because he’s acted like toward her.

So here I am. Trying to be the good stepmom. Holding the party line that he shouldn’t say things like that about his mother. Telling him that he doesn’t mean it when he says he hates her. But the truth is that he does. It’s not my story to tell. It’s not for me to dictate his relationship with his mother. Right? So replace the characters in the story. Gallo should want to have a relationship with his first family. That’s normal. He should be encouraged to participate in a reunion with her (them). I should do everything in my power to facilitate that relationship. I should tell him that he owes his family this. He should always remember that he’s Guatemalan. He should develop these relationships because he will feel guilty if he doesn’t. Right?

But I thought this was Gallo’s story? I thought he got to decide how he feels and what he thinks. So my wallowing in grief and feeling bad and constantly encouraging him to talk about his Guatemalan family because I need to assuage some personal white guilt about taking him from his motherland will, in the end, be in his best interest? I’m just lost.

I know the tone of this post comes off incredibly sarcastic and I’m sorry for that. If you knew me IRL you’d understand how damn earnest I am with my thoughts and feelings. I am searching. I am asking. I am trying to come to grips with what appears to me to be very opposed lines of thinking. I can’t find a way to meld them together.

Anniversaries

2008-03-31T20:08:00.002-06:00

I can’t even remember the last time I posted here. I’ve thought so many times, “I need to write something or folks are going to think I disappeared.” So here I am posting. My motivation is honestly just today’s date.

March 31

This date has so much meaning in my life for two very different reasons.

The first is a happy one. It’s the anniversary of the first date I had with my husband. It was supposed to be a group of co-workers meeting at a local club. Surreptitiously each member of the group found themselves otherwise occupied. Both of us arrived at the club expecting to find the big group. Instead it was just the two of us. We spent that first night talking over a few drinks and getting to know one another. Eight years later, the conversation hasn’t stopped. He’s the most amazing human being I have ever met. He challenges me as a person and has helped me grow as a partner. I can’t begin to imagine my world without him. I’m glad that I don’t have to. I hate to admit it, but he’s the first person to whom I have EVER been physically faithful. The truth is that he’s the only one I ever felt was worth it. Our relationship isn’t perfect by a long shot but we’re always willing to work at it. It’s a work in progress. And like I said, the conversation hasn’t stopped. I truly think that’s been the key.

The irony of this date is that it also marks the anniversary of the death of our first child. Miscarriage at seven weeks; delivery 33 weeks too early. You look at it your way; I’ll look at it mine. It was the most devastating moment of my life. I can’t say that time has made it any easier. The wound is still vividly raw. I can say though that time has made it easier to talk about openly. For so long I never mentioned the whole experience outside of close friends because I didn’t want to share it. I didn’t want to hear all the platitudes. I didn’t want to have to explain why I was so unbelievably devastated. I couldn’t articulate the sense of loss that I felt. When I tired, it seemed so trite. Even close friends and family did an awful job at trying to understand. Even my beloved Mr. Beans was no help. No one “got it.” Six years ago today my whole world crumbled and nothing would ever make it better. Sitting on the edge of my bed holding the .357 in my hands I couldn’t give myself a reason to go on. But obviously I did. And one day turned into another and another and another. There were good days and bad days, but I trudged along. Eventually, I moved forward. I didn’t “get over it.” I just went forward - one psychological foot in front of the other. Sadly, just 14 months later, another baby and another tragedy. But that’s another story.

I wish that had even known what the hell a blog was back then. It would have been such a light in the fog. I had no idea there were so many other women, many so much braver than I, who were dealing with the same emotions and situations that I was facing. It was only about two years ago when I stumbled across this corner of the world. Oh how I wish it were earlier!

So the point to this post?

Today I try to make March 31st a celebration: a celebration of the start of my life with Mr. Beans and a celebration of my first-born child. Remembering a first date isn't difficult. No one minds when you mention it casually over dinner. The other relationship isn't one discussed so easily. I sometimes think I’m the only one still remembering that tiny being who was with me for such a short time. It used to bother me immensely but now, I’m okay with it. I was the only one who had the honor of experiencing that life while it was here so maybe it’s fitting I’m the only one honoring that life now.

I found a poem during those lowest days that I recited to myself many times. (I’m sure those from the IF community have seen it countless times.) I’d like to post it here because it meant so much to me then. It said what I just couldn’t say myself.

Just Those Few Weeks

For those few weeks--
I had you to myself
And that seems too short a time
to be changed so profoundly.

In those few weeks--
I came to know you
and to love you.
You came to trust me with your life.
Oh, what a life I had planned for you!

Just those few weeks--
When I lost you.
I lost a lifetime of hopes,
plans, dreams, and aspirations...
A slice of my future simply vanished overnight.

Just those few weeks--
It wasn't enough time to convince others
how special and important you were.
How odd, a truly unique person has recently died
and no one is mourning the passing.

Just a mere few weeks--
And no "normal" person would cry all night
over a tiny, unfinshed baby,
or get depressed and withdrawn day after endless day.
No one would, so why am I?

You were just those few weeks my little one
you darted in and out of my life too quickly.
But it seems that's all the time you needed
to make my life so much richer
and give me a small glimpse of eternity.

(Poem Copyright 1984 by Susan Erling Martinez)

NaBloPoMo Failure

2007-11-14T20:53:00.000-06:00

My first attempt to do "what all the other bloggers are doing" is a big fat zero. Call it a single pink line. I guess I should just say a) internet access was nearly impossible during my trip and b) I got sick... again. This time it wasn't GI issues but a head cold. Unfortunately, I have a heart condition that limits the number of cold medications I can safely take to alleviate my myriad of symptoms. Lucky me, I generally just have to wait it out. I'm waiting....

My Gallo isn't here and I miss him terribly. I haven't been away from him since the day he was placed in my arms. Seven whole months - I can't believe how fast the time has gone. By all reports he's doing well. He's being spoiled rotten by my parents. I'm just glad they have all this one-on-one time with him. It will help them build a relationship. I've been so worried for so long that they won't see him grow up. Every day he's able to spend with him I am thankful for immensely.

I have begun the packing process. When I think of the task in it's totality, I start to freak out. When I look at it piece by piece, I realize it's not that big of a deal. This evening I got organized. Tomorrow I start the actual packing. I still need to gather boxes from the liquor stores in the area. It's a college town so the supply the endless.

I'm thinking I should steal some of these memes going around. It might give me something interesting to write about. The truth is that I generally have tons to share in my every day world. Most people say I'm a wonderful speaker. I just can't seem to get it down here and have it make any sense. I'm guessing that good writers might be horrible conversationalists. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part!!

Moving Day for Gallo

2007-11-10T20:46:00.000-06:00

I spent the better part of today driving to the coast. (We're at my parents' house now. The computer connection is AWFUL.... it might as well be dial-up.) Gallo was fabulous considering he had to be strapped into the carseat for the duration. The point of this trip was to move him down here. He will stay here with Mr. Beans and my parents. I will have to go back and pack up all of our stuff. I have two weeks to do it. What fun! I'm definitely not looking forward to that.

This weekend I will spend hanging out with family. I love these people but they grate on my nerves something fierce. I look at them constantly and am convinced that biology has little to do with family connections. I have no doubt that I'm biologically related to these people. Other than that, I'm not so sure how any of the "connection" remains.

I wish I had something exciting to report but it's status quo. Life seems so busy yet when I write it down, it seems like not much and no big deal. Maybe that's a good therapy technique. When you think life is completely overwhelming, write down everything going on. You might be surprised to learn it's realy not as bad as you think!

10pm dinner time

2007-11-09T22:18:00.001-06:00

Have you ever had one of those days where you were geting ready for bed and realized,

"Damn. I haven't eaten dinner yet!"

Thank goodness for Fruity Pebbles.

An extra week

2007-11-08T19:08:00.001-06:00

I talked to the HR folks at the New Agency. It seems that I can't transfer before Thanksgiving like I was originally told. I now have to wait until the end of the month. That's not really helpful as we're moving all of the stuff out of the house here over Thanksgiving weekend. Hmmm.... guess I'll be camping in my own house for a week. That should be weird. I just have to make sure not to disconnect the cable before the 30th since that's who supplies the internet connection. Lovely - another week without my husband or my child. Then again, this may be my last chance for a few moments to myself for the next dozen years!

In other news, there's a bit of office gossip going on. It seems that the husband of one of my coworkers has posted pictures on his Facebook account. The pictures are of her and one of his coworkers out of town having a grand old time. Nothing risque, per se, unless you count the fact that

a) he's married
b) the girl with him is the same age as his daughter
c) his wife, my friend, is currently out-of-town at a conference
d) this out-of-town trip was just the two of them (not business related), just a "hey let's go to the city and have a fun day" kind of thing.

I'm a bit freaked out about it. The question is: Do we tell her the pictures are there or wait for her to find out? Obviously there may be nothing going on. Even so, I found the pictures a bit distasteful. If Mr. Beans posted pictures of a trip with some woman... hell, if he WENT on a trip with some woman ... I would be more than a little mortified. Call me old fashioned but married men do not hang out with young, single coworkers alone. It just sets up a bad situation. Maybe it's just me?

Finally qualified

2007-11-07T20:48:00.000-06:00

I didn't mention before that I obviously reapplied for the PIN I was trying to get into for my job. Much as it annoyed me, I knew I had no choice but to fill out the application again. Well, the letter arrived today. I'm finally qualified! I'm not sure what happened in the two weeks between when I applied last time and when they reviewed my file this time. Then again, I'm not sure how I went from qualified to not qualified in the previous letter. I love state employment! Should I mention that I wrote the exact same information on this application as in the last? Go figure...
So now, the job situation appears to be rectified. Now, I just wait for the confirmed transfer dates and I'm off and running. Now, we've just to close on that house!

Speaking of, any suggestions for paint colors for Gallo's room? The current room is a disgusting shade of lavender which just won't cut it. Mr. Beans says we have to paint it before we move everything. I'm leaning toward lime green with bright blue and orange accents. No theme in mind; I'm not that creative. Guess I've got some researching to do!

Day off

2007-11-06T19:51:00.000-06:00

I caved in and stayed home today. I thought I was feeling better yesterday evening but then spent the entire night running to bathroom. By the time I finally got to sleep, the alarm was going off. I made a command decision. The boy was going to daycare; I was going back to bed. So, I pulled myself together the best I could and got him there on time for breakfast. I felt a little guilty but then realized it was probably safer for him to be there than to be at home. It did me a world of good to stay home and sleep today. I was able to build up my strength. It definitely made for a better evening for him. He hates it when his routine is changed. Just because I was sick didn't mean his world had to be miserable. He loves "school" and has fun there.

Gallo had his 15-month check up at the doctor yesterday and was given a clean bill of health. The pediatrician said he is doing wonderfully. He is 30 inches tall and weight 30 lbs. He’s got a little potbelly but the good doctor said that was fine. That will disappear as he continues to grow, so he says. I’m thinking with Mr. Beans wonderful culinary skills the belly may stay! Everything else is right on target or “within normal limits.” I’m still a bit worried about language development. The doctor says nothing to worry about. I’m still going to have him evaluated as soon as we get moved.

I’ve been reading so many blogs and have so many ideas for posts. I just can’t seem to get myself together enough to write. Hopefully I’ll have time at work this week. The truth is, now that they know I’m leaving, they’ve begun to transfer all of my duties to my co-workers. (They’re not planning to hire a replacement. Budgetary issues.) I’ve had to meet with folks and make a plan for the transfer. Most of them asked to just go ahead and start doing the tasks assigned to them. That way, if there were problems I would still be around to ask questions and help out. That’s great, except there haven’t been many issues. So, in essence, my job has been totally farmed out and I’ve still got another month to go. I’ve done so many sudoku puzzles, I’m dreaming about them! Guess I could use the time to write more blog posts. Plenty of downtime to think !

Mental health on the gulf coast

2007-11-05T09:53:00.001-06:00

Feeling well enough to go to work. Guess I should get something accomplished. Blogging – yep, that’s what’s important.

I read an article that didn’t surprise me. It says that there continues to be a mental health crisis in the gulf coast region affected by Hurricane Katrina. It also highlights the lack of mental health providers in the area, especially outside of the metro-New Orleans area. Once again, I feel the need to speak for my people.

People still live in FEAM trailers with no prospect of moving out. There is no affordable housing available. The upper and middle class folks have been able to move on. Those without the means, however, are still stuck in pretty much the same place they were on the afternoon of August 29, 2005. You can’t “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” when you don’t know how. Mental illness is a disease….. just like cancer and diabetes. If you don’t receive treatment, you will die.

Another silent group is the children of the disaster. Is anyone thinking of the future? There are hundreds of “Katrina babies” – those children born 9-12 months after the storm. These children will have no memory of Katrina or its physical aftermath. The problem is these children will be raised by parents who could very well be suffering from the emotional aftermath of the storm. These children will suffer the consequences of their parents’ disease. Sadly, it’s preventable. If the parents receive adequate mental health care, the children will in turn receive the benefits. Healthy parents raise healthy children. And if you think this isn’t your problem, just remember. These children could end up in your communities dating your children someday. Think about it.

Whether or not these people should have had kids in the first place misses the point. The reality is that the children are here, in the flesh, and they need help. A 15 month old child can’t ask Mommy and Daddy to stop fighting. He just learns that yelling and hitting must be how be people relate to one another. Lessons like that are hard to forget.

I know I’m not doing this topic justice. Even so, I thought it was important to share. If you know someone in the mental health field who would like to make a difference, tell them to contact their counterparts on the gulf coast. Volunteer. Find a way to help these people. My people.

Sick caring for the sick

2007-11-04T19:07:00.000-06:00

No one ever told me how much poop was associated with being a mom.

No one ever told me how to care for a toddler who is whizzing out of his behind when I am vomiting profusely myself... even before I get to the diaper change.

Good grief I hope this passes soon!

Gender issues already

2007-11-03T19:03:00.000-06:00

I’m already trying to think ahead for Christmas and get presents picked out early. I can’t promise that I will have them purchased in a timely manner. I’d just like to have an idea of what I’m looking for prior to the 23rd of December. This will be Gallo’s first Christmas with us and I wanted to get him something he would really like. (He’ll be 15 months in a few days. At this point, the boy likes empty toilet paper rolls and Tupperware! ) It just so happens, as I was meandering down the aisle at Wallyworld, I noticed an interesting box. It was a talking kitchen. A TALKING KITCHEN! It has a stove and refrigerator and play food. The doors open; the appliances talk; the boy will love it! Let the gender issues begin.

I mention this wonderful present idea to my co-workers who promptly inform me that I will “make him gay” if I buy him this kitchen. Yes folks, cooking = homosexual tendencies. I was floored. Forget the whole concept that you can’t make people gay. (I didn’t even try to explain this idea.) I simply tried to point out that cooking in a kitchen couldn’t possibly make a 15-month old child gay. I explained that his father does all of the cooking in our house and Gallo LOVES to be in the kitchen with his papa. This had no effect. (Which I found odd as I also made it very clear that Mr. Beans is definitely of the heterosexual persuasion. I even included diagrams and flowcharts.) They weren’t buying my story. I then tried to explain that Gallo loves talking toys. The voices make him laugh and he tries to imitate them. (This is important, as I am a bit concerned about his language development at this point.) Gallo also loves the concept of putting items into things – like putting plastic rings into boxes or pulling clothes out of dresser drawers. The whole cause-and-effect game can keep him entertained for a long time.

Nope. None of this mattered. If I buy the boy the kitchen, I’ll make him gay. In the end, I capitulated for the sake of the argument. I finally asked what would be so bad if he were gay? I might as well have asked what was so bad about Hillary Clinton while dining at an RNC fundraiser. Deer-in-headlights was the expression on most faces; others looked horrified.

Have I mentioned how much I can’t wait to move? Three weeks and counting……

Not a seamless transition

2007-11-02T14:24:00.000-06:00

Just when I think things are working out… there’s drama!

It seems that the sellers of our wonderful new home have decided to quibble over $195. Yes, you read that correctly. ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY-FIVE DOLLARS. During the home inspection it was noted that there were some wiring issues. It was nothing that would make a buyer run screaming from the premises. The garage had been closed in years ago and apparently someone played the home version of “let’s-be-an-electrician.” Two many things on a breaker, wires not marked appropriately – whatever. The inspector said it was a safety issue in that it needed to be fixed but nothing that couldn’t be remedied quickly by someone who knew what he/she was doing. So we sent the sellers a copy of the report and told them these safety issues had to be fixed before closing. No big deal, so we thought.

Our realtor called today to tell us that the sellers contacted a licensed electrician who gave them a quote of $695 to make the repairs. They consider this stuff “incidentals.” Therefore, it’s covered by the $500 they’ve given us in the contract for said incidentals. We’ll need to pay the difference to have the repairs done.

Um – NO. Incidentals, my friends are things like scuffed paint, cleaning the carpets, replacing a squeaky ceiling fan. There is now way IMPROPER WIRING WHICH CAN RESULT IN A MAJOR FIRE can be considered “incidentals.” Our realtor wanted to know how far we wanted to take this. We told her, they can pay for the repair or they can shove the contract straight up their candy ass! I should also mention the sellers’ realtor mentioned he saw Mr. Beans’ name in the paper a few weeks ago. That would be the announcement that he had joined the firm. Kinda makes you wonder whether the fact that he’s a lawyer makes them think we need to pay the additional $195. You know, since lawyers have SO much money! (sure drop by, there’s a cash giveaway in the driveway tomorrow at 9am….) Honestly, they’ve lost their minds. This house has been on the market for months with NO offers and it’s a buyer’s market extraordinare! They can cough up the dough or they can enjoy their house. I’d rather live with my parents for a few months than get taken. It’s the principle of the matter.

On the job front, it’s even more ridiculous. In case you didn’t pay attention, I work for a state agency in this here fine state. All employees with the state have a classification for the pay called a PIN. These PINs are assigned to agencies and they see fit to assign PIN to whatever jobs they want. You may be in PIN X and be an instructor. He may be in PIN X and be a supervisor. The point is, you both make the same amount of money. Your job is the agency’s business. I was in a specific PIN (PIN X) for three years in my previous life. I then moved to another agency and was promoted to a higher level PIN (PIN Y). In order to transfer, I applied for the open PIN X at The Agency. I got my letter from the state personnel office. It seems that I’m not qualified for PIN X. Nope. I was qualified five years ago and in that time compiled five more years of experience, three of which was in PIN X, along with a promotion to PIN Y and a master’s degree. Now, I’m no longer qualified for PIN X. Overqualfied? Nope I “don’t meet the minimum requirements.”

I think I should apply for a job at the state personnel office. Perhaps I’m qualified for that.

On a posotive note, Mr. Beans is coming to visit this weekend. I get a day off from total parental responsibility. And oh yeah, a few happy minutes alone with my husband. Guess I should stop complaining. Happy Friday!

Trying to do better

2007-11-01T21:26:00.000-06:00

11/01/07:

I’m trying this NaBloPoMO thing….. I hope I the link correctly. Not that many folks read me regularly because, well, I don’t post regularly. Go figure.

I do however have plenty for Day 1. Perhaps the prospect of explaining it all will give me something to do with my free time. (As if…)

Sine my last post, life has continued to get crazy.

House: the crazy folks accepted our offer on the house in HomeTown! We’re now in the process of working out the kinks. There were a few minor things on the home inspection that have to be completed. Once that is done, we’ll have the survey done and get the mortgage crap all signed, sealed and delivered. We’re still hoping to move in by Thanksgiving. Oh, and did I mention the hot tub ?? Yeah baby! It comes with a hot tub. Just in time for the cold weather. I can’t wait!

Job: As I last explained, a job unexpectedly came open at my previous place of employment, The Agency. I had a phone interview and she hired me on the spot! We’re now trying to work out the transfer process to ensure a seamless jump from here to there. It also appears that I won’t have to bit the bullet with a five figure cut in pay! Talks were in the works to upgrade certain positions to provide more oversight within the Agency. The powers-that-be decided that I would be the perfect fit for this newly created position. Volia! Instant job with same pay package I currently receive. It will be a LOT more work and I’ll probably be on the carpet 24/7 whenever the higher-ups decide it’s time for the bi-annual flogging contest. In the end, though, it’s another big jump career-wise for me. I’m honestly floored. Of course, the whole thing is a bit ironic since all I ever wanted to be was a stay-at-home mom. What’s with the career opportunities now?

Obviously Gallo will need someplace to go during the day while Mommy and Daddy are out conquering their respective worlds. We’ve found a wonderful in-home childcare situation that fits us perfectly. We’d prefer he be at an actual daycare with more structure. Unfortunately, there are ZERO openings in the area and waiting lists are at least a year long. So, until then, we’re happy with the situation that has presented itself. Hopefully Gallo will be happy, too.

I’m definitely worried about the continued changes he has to deal with on an almost constant basis. Mr. Beans has already been gone a month. Gallo will leave the daycare he’s known for four months. Then, he will be away from me for a few weeks. (He’s going to Home Town to stay with Daddy and Grandparents while Mommy packs up the house here.) Then a new house, new day care…. Good grief. The boy has had nothing but changes since he arrived in this world! Adapt, overcome…. Hoorah! It must the military brat in me that says it will be okay. The professional who works in the field of mental health isn’t so sure. Only time will tell. We’re giving him all the love and attention we can. We’re trying to gradually ease him into each new situation the best we can. As parents, aren’t we always wondering if we’re doing the right thing? We do what we know. When we know better, we do better. I truly hope I’m learning fast!

Waiting to Exhale

2007-10-17T18:40:00.000-06:00

I haven’t written in forever. Go figure – isn’t that a recurring theme? I don’t even know where to start. In no particular order:

Mr. Beans passed the bar!!! He took it in July and results were posted in September. I knew he’d pass and had no doubts. Even so, he wasn’t going to believe me until he had confirmation from the people who count. He was sworn-in in our fair capital city. Gallo and I were able to be there and witness the event. We went to KFC for dinner that night. Yes folks, the life of an attorney is as glamorous as you thought!

I didn’t mention it here but over Labor Day weekend, Mr. Beans had a job interview back on the coast. It went very well and he was tentatively offered a job, pending bar results. So, when he heard the good news, the compensation package for the job was offered and we accepted. The bad news: he had to start immediately. So, he headed south and Gallo and I remain here in Whitey McWhiteville. I’d like to say I miss my husband but the sad truth is that most days I don’t have time to miss him. Thankfully we have daycare that I love, but it now means that Gallo is there nearly 50 hours a week. That breaks my heart but we have no choice. I also hate that I’m completely drained on a daily basis. I get myself ready, then get him up and get him to daycare. (Thankfully they feed him breakfast.) Then when I get off work, I pick him up. We come home, have dinner, and then play in his room. He then gets a bath and it’s off to bed. I usually have cereal for dinner and crawl into bed. I’m just beat. I don’t know how single moms do it everyday. I just can’t keep this up and I’ve only been doing it for 3 weeks! My mother has offered to come help until we can be together again. I think I’m going to have to take her up on it.

In order for the family to be together, we need a place to live. Unfortunately, rent in the area is INSANE. It’s cheaper to buy than to rent. (Literally… not in “the long run” but literally, a mortgage for a decent house is less than rent on an apartment in a scary neighborhood with shaky plumbing. How sad.) Insurance is going to kill us (a 1500 sq ft home will run you about $4000 a year – insurance agents are the spawn of the devil.) So we looked at houses in various neighborhoods and managed to find one we really liked. Mr. Beans signed papers on an offer today! We should know by tomorrow whether or not they’ve accepted our offer. Keep your fingers crossed!

The final piece of the puzzle is that I needed to procure a transfer between state agencies. I have worked for the state for eight years. After the storm, I was able to transfer from one agency to another to be with Mr. Beans. The transfer was important because it allowed me to keep my personal and medical leave as well as not loose my retirement investment. Transfers are always the best. So, when he got the job back on the coast, I’d hoped I could transfer back to the agency where I started. I was told it wouldn’t be possible for a while thanks to budgetary issues. (I was told not to even try before the next fiscal year!) We had resigned ourselves that either we’d be apart until next summer or I’d just have to quit. Ditching the career is a sacrifice I’d make easily; loosing the benefits of insurance and retirement are a bit harder to swallow. We were trying to figure out another way. Monday night, the “other way” landed in our laps. It seems that two people resigned on Friday at my old agency. Even with the budget crunch, the agency MUST hire at least one person to fill the gap or risk being out of compliance with federal regulations. So, I made some phone calls, faxed my resume, and kept my fingers crossed. This afternoon I got a call that I have a phone interview tomorrow afternoon. (She’s making accommodations since I live so far away.) It’s the answer to prayers, if we were the praying type. If I could get this transfer, we could be together as a family by Thanksgiving. Hopefully, we’ll also be in our brand new house!

I’m taking deep breaths and telling myself it’s going to be okay. We’ve been through so much in our lives….. I’m always afraid the other shoe is going to drop… the bubble is going to burst… I’m hoping this time, I can finally just exhale.

Fragile

2007-09-11T16:07:00.000-06:00

Because I skipped July

2007-08-29T12:16:00.000-06:00

((taps on mic))

“Anyone out there?”

(( crickets))

Yeah that’s what I thought. I am still faithfully reading so many blogs – my list is way too long. I even manage to leave comments from time to time. So why can’t I get my shit together and leave my own posts? I really don’t know. I think work and home and self have just gotten the best of me. I often wonder how so many of you manage to do it. I think the blogs I love the best are those that read like journal entries. The blogger just writes as if chatting up a friend and filling in the details of the day. Sometimes the details are fascinating; others days, boring as hell. But there’s a connection between the writer and the reader. So here I am, rambling on about mindless drivel…

Gallo is amazing! He made his first birthday on 8/08.

Cake was had by all and he did indeed wear a good bit of it. I think that’s a tradition. So was the fact that the first birthday cake had to be carrot. That’s a Mr. Beans family thing. I always thought chocolate but I was immediately voted. Since he was the one baking it, I guess I didn’t have a say! It was yummy so no complaints here.

My youngest stepson, C, was here for two weeks. That was an adventure. I really should have been blogging at the time. I understand that 13 year olds can be trying even during the best of times. However, he’s the product of being 13 and having had ZERO discipline during his life save the two-three weeks a year he’s spent with his father for the past decade. One cannot solve 49 weeks of bad parenting in three. It just doesn’t work that way.

Oh and I had a birthday this month as well - turned the big 33. When did that become old? Seriously, one day I was young and vibrant and sexy. I woke up and had facial hair, varicose veins and didn’t know a single band on MTV. Of course maybe that’s because I actually witnessed the BIRTH of MTV. E-gad!

I’ve actually written several posts but never published them. Of course they were on hot button topics that got my blood boiling. I’d write, and edit and add…. And then save them and never publish. I just didn’t have the energy to bother. That’s sad… and really not like me. Again, maybe it’s an age thing.

I would be remiss if I didn’t make mention of today’s date. August 29…. It’s been two years since a bitch named Katrina changed my world forever. Two years seems like a lot of time, until you’re trying to rebuild your life. Then it’s the blink of an eye. Some things have changed. Most have not. Time rolls on. King George is using the coast as a photo-op. How nice. Thankfully I’ll miss his trip. We’re making the pilgrimage there to visit the family for the Labor Day holiday. I want my parents to have more time with Gallo. He’s growing up so fast…. I’m afraid he won’t remember them.

Did I mention Gallo’s walking already? Yup – mastering it more and more every day. We’re moving from formula to milk…. from the bottle to the sippy cup. He’s so independent and smart and determined. I’m more proud of him every day. I keep trudging along, still in awe that I have the opportunity to raise him. I’m so incredibly lucky.

Nothing will ever be the same

2007-06-26T14:03:00.000-06:00

I haven’t posted anything substantial for awhile because, well, I just haven’t had the time. I’m sure most of you can relate. It’s not like I have hundreds of folks waiting with baited breath to hear my next rant, so who cares, right? But I’ve found myself with some free time (at work no less) and here I write.

I probably should have posted more about brining my son home. I’ve decided to call him Gallo, as in el gallo (the rooster). I do this for two reasons: a) I have the most adorable picture of him in the bathtub with a soapsuds mohawk that makes him look like a rooster; and b) Gallo is a popular beer in Guatemala of which I was able to partake a few of and really enjoyed. So he’s officially Gallo.

The infamous “pick-up” trip was full of so much excitement and anxiety rolled into one. Thank the goddess for xanax! We all know I hate to fly so a little pharmaceutical help makes the journey so much easier for me and even more so for Mr. Beans. We arrived on time with no worries and were expecting a full night’s sleep before the arrival of Gallo and his foster family. Guess again! We arrived at the hotel to be told they would be here in about an hour! We ran upstairs, brushed hair and teeth, changed clothes and voila! They arrived.

His foster family was amazing. It was obvious how much they loved Gallo and were sad to see him go. He was placed in their care when he was three days old. Now, 7.5 months later, he was leaving. They brought a beautiful picture of him with angels superimposed around his face. On the back was a message saying how much they loved him and wished him a happy life. They included their address and asked that we keep in touch. I promised that I would. Letters and pictures are the least I can do to show my appreciation for caring for him all this time. That may sound flippant but what else can I say? Foster families understand that the children they are caring for will one day leave to go to another family. I’m not insinuating it’s not heartbreaking each time a child leaves. I’m only implying they understand, at least cognitively, that the day is coming. I am happy to continue this connection for Gallo. He may never be able to locate the family that brought him into the world, but I can do my damnedest to maintain the relationship with the family that cared for him during his first few months.

We visited for some time and then said our goodbyes. The whole scene was unbearably painful. I remember the pain I felt when we visited having to leave him and return to the U.S. without him. My only solace was knowing I would return, sooner or later, to bring him to his new home. This time, there was no solace for his foster mother. This was it. She had nothing more than my word that we would stay in touch. I can’t fathom what she was thinking or feeling at the time. I can only live up to my word to remain in contact.

The next few days went by so quickly. The details of the embassy visit are irrelevant to most. I’ve recorded them for Gallo’s questions, should there be any. Unless you’re going through the adoption process in Guatemala and are interested to know what will happen during your visit, I’m sure you aren’t interested. Short version: We spent the weekend bonding. We went to the embassy on Monday. It took four hours. We returned Tuesday afternoon and received his visa. We left Wednesday morning and arrived back at home, safe and sound, a little after midnight on Thursday. I have no positive comments for Immigration folks at the Charlotte airport. (perhaps I’ll elaborate in a later post). Suffice it to say, I wouldn’t recommend using that airport to return to the U.S. Go through Atlanta or Houston – better chance they know what they’re doing.

April was a blur! I stayed home thanks to lots of personal leave accrued during my past decade of being a state ~~wage-slave~~ employee. It was nice to have the time to bond with Gallo. Mr. Beans was finishing up classes in his last semester of law school. My mother, Grandma, was able to come and visit a few days. Then, Gallo and I traveled to the coast to visit the rest of my family. Everyone fussed over him and spoiled him rotten! I was happy we were able to visit for a whole week. I truly miss my friends and family, as well as my hometown. A few weeks later we traveled to visit Oma and Opa, Mr. Bean’s parents. They were thrilled to see Mr. Beans and Gallo. I was thankful the visit was only three days. I only wanted to kill Oma once. (This implies a good visit.) Upon our return home, we all came down with the rotavirus! I don’t wish this on my worst enemy…. okay maybe King George….. but seriously, it was awful! I’d like to blame this on visiting the ILs, but I can’t be certain. It was going around the pediatrician’s office the week before and it’s likely we picked it up there. Who knows? Thankfully it only took Gallo a week to get over it. Mr. Beans unfortunately suffered through it for almost two weeks until it finally subsided. Me? 2 days, baby! Ahhh, at least my immune system isn’t falling apart!

Rush forward to May: Law school graduation! The entire clans, on both sides, made the journey here to WhiteyMcWhiteville to see our genius Mr. Beans receive his Juris Doctor. I was so proud of the man. Considering the tumultuous happenings of the past three years and yet he still made it through. We got married; Katrina destroyed everything we owned; I moved here to WMW and started a new job; we started and finished Gallo’s adoption. All of this during his three years of law school - unfuckingbelievable. Truly, the man is a wonder. He’s now consumed with studying for the bar exam… and being Mr. Mom. Every day I marvel at his ability to care for Gallo. I don’t mean emotionally because that’s a no-brainer. I mean the actual day-to-day physical care of this child. He has the patience of Job. It’s sad to say that I’m impressed because he’s a guy. I know it sounds stereotypical. It’s just been my experience that fathers aren’t usually the “hands-on” caregivers that mothers are. That’s not the case here at Casa de Beans. Papa is the primary caregiver; Mama is the bread winner. And so it goes, until the bar is passed and a job is found.

Gallo is, of course, the most amazing child on earth. He’s now 10 months old. He’s crawling, pulling himself up, standing without assistance and certainly about to take his first steps any minute now. He knows “mama” and “papa” and can say them somewhat discriminately. He knows “bottle” and “doggie” but won’t say them. He’s got six teeth with number seven trying to rear its ugly head. His hair is so long if one more person asks me when I’m gonna give him a hair cut I’m gonna ask when they plan to loose weight! (as if either question is the inquisitor’s business!) He’s at the 95th percentile for weight and 75th percentile for height. He sleeps through the night (at least 12 hours) and takes two, 2-hour naps during the day. When he’s awake, he’s “balls to the wall” (as Mr. Beans would say) until he goes to sleep. He’s big and happy and healthy. We couldn’t be more thrilled he’s finally with us!

Reality-ville? I’m exhausted. Mr. Beans is exhausted. This is hard. This is trying. Some days I wonder “what have I gotten myself in to?” Some days I don’t think I’m gonna make it. Some days I wish I could just pull the covers over my head and just go back to sleep. Most days I’m in tears about something I’ve done or said or not done or not said to Gallo. Yes, at the end of the day, it is all worth it; but that doesn’t mean it’s all moonbeams and fairytales. It’s Motherhood and it ain’t always pretty.

So there’s the boring “catch-up” post. Sorry it’s so long. I guess I really have to get better organized. So much of my life pre-Gallo has taken a backseat. I know all the moms out there are saying, “Um yeah, what did you expect?” Honestly, I expected nothing less. I’m just taking longer than I would like to get into a discernable rhythm. I’m sure I’ll get the hang out it sometime. Every day I’m finding I understand more and more and feeling less and less confused about my role as mom. I should figure this thing out in oh…. 50-60 years??

My thoughts on the sextuplets

2007-06-13T14:01:00.001-06:00

Can you help?

2007-03-23T11:01:00.000-06:00

I know there are a lot of people within the adoption community who read blogs. I have no clue how many people may stop by mine from time to time. Like me, don't like me; that's your call. However, please take a minute to read the below post I copied from Erin. I don't know her IRL but from what I have gotten to know about her, she seems like a wonderful woman. Rumors and bad stuff travel like wildfire on the 'net. Maybe this will travel too and she, and other families like hers, will finally find the help they need.

Peace!

************************
Missing Guatemala City Signature: Searching Out Others
Dear readers:

Thank you for your supportive comments. Unfortunately, this is not a situation for which we can contact US politicians or government bodies for assistance. It concerns a Guatemala citizen's document -- issued by a municipality in Guatemala -- that is not being accepted by a Guatemalan government body. It could even be counterproductive to attempt to bring US parties into the mix.

However, there is something you can do to help if you so wish. If you are ADOPTING FROM GUATEMALA and you are with an agency or facilitator that is not HAPS or For This Child, PLEASE EMAIL THE FOLLOWING LETTER TO YOUR AGENCY. If you are NOT ADOPTING but you have a blog, please POST THIS REQUEST ON YOUR BLOG.

*************************

Dear [agency-name],
If your agency has a case in process that contains a Guatemala City cedula or birth-certificate that is missing the Civil Registry signature (usually the mayor's signature), we have important information to share.

According to PGN, if your case has not yet received a previo for the missing signature, it will. The letter from the Civil Registry and/or the Mayor of Guatemala City is no longer sufficient to satisfy the previo. The four PGN assessors have made a joint decision that these unsigned documents MUST be signed. However, at this time there is NO ONE in Guatemala City with the authority to sign these documents!

We are Cheri xxxxxx and Erin xxxxxx, in the process of adopting Guatemalan babies through For This Child and HAPS, respectively. After many months working on this issue separately, our agencies are now collaborating to find a solution. They have discussed this with the PGN reviewers, Barrios, and the Mayor of GC directly. The conclusion is that the mayor does NOT have the authority to sign a document issued under another mayor's tenure. Therefore, we must file an acta with a different branch of PGN that will require the Civil Registry of GC to 1) designate and authorize a person to sign these documents, and 2) order that person to do so.

The PGN reviewer on Erin's case currently has 12 cases that have been kicked out for this reason. If all 8 reviewers have a similar number of cases, that means 80-100 cases are in this same predicament! We have been advised to find as many of these other cases as possible so that we can ALL file the acta together.

We have strength in numbers.If you have, or know of, a case that contains a Guatemala City cedula or birth-certificate that is missing the Civil Registry signature, please contact:

Karla Ordonez, with HAPS: cell 5555-3610, office 2332-9040 Traci Orr, with For This Child: US #214-370-8436, traci@forthischild.org

Thank you for your time,
Cheri and Erin

Things that make me go "hmmmmmm"

2007-03-16T12:31:00.000-06:00

I’ve really wanted to comment on the recent news that Angelina Jolie has added a new addition to her family. The number of threads regarding this information have been staggering to me. There are many “that’s not fair” posts about how fast the adoption was completed. Supporters argue she started the process early last year, that she adopted an older child who was paper ready, etc. Detractors generally argue simply that she bought off Vietnamese officials and that she’s receiving preferential treatment because of her celebrity. On many of the adoption forums I’ve lurked, the majority of adoptive parents have commented a) why does it matter anyway because at least the child is out of the orphanage and b) who cares if money / fame brought the boy home early because if they had the money/fame/resources, they would have given “whatever it took” to bring their child home sooner.

My first thought was to agree because obviously I’ve wanted my son home with me from the moment I laid eyes on him. Having to wait, month after month, for the process to be completed has been difficult. There have been times when I thought I would have “done anything” to bring him home. After reading so many threads / posts, it has left me wondering, would I? Honestly, would I be willing to do “whatever it took.”

Vietnam was closed to adoptions from U.S. citizens due to allegations of serious corruption in the system. It took several years for the U.S. and Vietnam to work out a Memo of Understanding to allow adoptions to proceed again. Families were caught in the crossfire and, I believe, some families never brought their children home. Now, the country has “reopened” and agencies must be licensed by Vietnam to complete adoptions. I definitely can’t speak to whether this new system is better or worse than before because I don’t have first-hand knowledge and haven’t done enough research. However, I feel strongly that any processes in place need to be followed to the letter to ensure this “transparency” everyone talks about wanting in international adoptions actually occurs.

Back to Ms. Jolie: I’ve read several parents’ blogs who adopted children born in Vietnam. These parents’ anger stems from the idea that they had to wait two, three or more weeks for all of their paperwork to be processed, G and R ceremony, embassy paperwork, visa, etc. I perused the State Department website about the process for Vietnam adoptions. I didn’t really come away with a clear understanding of how long it “should” take. I only have the information I read, time and time again, from parents. Their trips to finalize the adoption of their child in Vietnam surely didn’t go as quickly as Angelina’s trip. Most of these parents were "in country" at least two-three weeks attempting to complete the process.

Now I understand that everything provided by the media shouldn’t be accepted as truth. I get that. I’m simply throwing out this food for thought: Let’s all assume that Ms. Jolie went through the exact same processes as any other U.S. citizen with regard to home study, I-600A, wait for referral, etc. Fine. Now all the paper-ready parents and paper-ready children are matched. Everyone has made their travel plans and has arrived in country on the same date. Great – everyone is at the same exact place in the process, right?. So how is it that the Jolie adoption is completed in a few days and the other families are waiting weeks? This is where I have to ask those saying she’s not receiving preferential treatment to explain the difference in the process. If anything, wouldn’t she have the resources to stay in country for months if she chose to? Wouldn’t it make more sense to expedite the case of Ms. Random Parent because she DOESN’T have the resources to stay in country for an extended period of time? I just don’t get it. Maybe I’ve missed something here and those who’ve adopted from Vietnam can explain it to me. I’m not arguing whether the adoption of this child is a good thing because I think it is. I’m simply asking why the finalization process in country took a CONSIDERABLY shorter time for AJ’s adoption than it appears to take for all other U.S. adoptive parents.

[I feel the need to add a small disclaimer that I happen to ADORE Angelina. I applaud her work as a Goodwill Ambassador. From what we ARE privy to in the media and IF you believe it, she appears to be a devoted mother. When I’ve heard her speak I come away with a feeling that she is a genuine human being. This is NOT a bash toward her as a person. My questions about her adoption are PROCESS questions.]

Back to doing “whatever it takes:” Adoptive parents get their panties in a wad when others criticize their adopting internationally. We freak out when people mention the POSSIBILITY of corruption, buying children, bribes, forged documents, coercion of birthmothers, etc. Yet in the same breath we make comments like “I’d do anything to bring him home.” Really? So handing an orphanage director an extra $5000 to bring your son is okay because it’s YOUR son. If I do it, it’s corrupt? Yeah, not so much. How can we expect government officials to follow outlined procedures if we take the attitude that “as long as the child gets out of the orphanage” then the behavior doesn’t matter? Of course it matters. If the behavior is wrong in the light of day, it’s wrong at night. Are we as adoptive parents helping to feed the fury when we turn a blind eye to those employing corrupt practices? I’d rather face the problem head on and make changes than bury my head in the sand and pretend it’s not happening.

Redemption

2007-03-05T20:15:00.000-06:00

We finally received our pink slip after another I-72. I just couldn’t bring myself to post again because I felt like wallowing in my own pity party. Another case of swollen corneas also made writing a tad bit interesting. But here I am, back again. Eyes are still a bit out of whack, but on the mend. Sayonara contacts; hello, glasses. YUK!

So, back to the good news: After submitting the “missing” paperwork, we waited over the President's Day holiday expecting to receive our precious pink slip the week of the 21st. Nothing arrived and I emailed the embassy asking for an update. OH SILLY GIRL. I can’t believe I didn’t bother to read my own history to know that if you ask questions, you won’t like the answers. I got a quick reply – another I-72!! It seems that they didn’t like the form our attorney submitted. Our original signatures didn’t make it original enough. So another form had to be completed and over-nighted to GC. We were finally resubmitted and held our breath. Surprisingly, two days later, we received PINK!

Now, the irony is that apparently the embassy is conducting training or spring cleaning or taking some time to reorganize their Rolodexes instead of conducting visa interviews during the month of March. So we are forced to wait another three weeks before we can go get our son. Our appointment is at the end of March. Another month will go by that we can’t get back. In the end, I’m just grateful to have the pink slip. I’ve been watching others who are now being relegated to some time in April for their visa appointments. Even worse, for those still further back in the process, more delays can be expected on the Guatemala side with Holy Week being early this year. There are so many parents absolutely terrified with the goings-on of the VP of Guatemala and HRH Wendy de Berger and the whole Protocolo. My thoughts are with all those families that are faced with the prospect of not bringing their children home. Truly, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.

So now, I am packing like crazy and planning the pick up trip. I’m also trying to get my affairs in order at work. Suffice it to say that I’m pretty much the only person at my site that does my job. If I’m not there, it doesn’t get done. I’d like to say that I will be taking off my 12 guaranteed weeks. Alas, my employer is being an ass. Personnel is saying that I’m only allowed to use my personal leave and not my medical leave. When I questioned this, I was told maternity leave requests are generally granted for the entire 12 weeks because the mother is able to use her medical leave as she is recovering from a medical event. When medical runs out, she can use her personal leave – all up to the FMLA allowed 12 weeks. For me, since there’s no medical issue, I can only use my personal leave. (I should point out that I have over 550 hours of medical leave and had planned to use most of it for this. Personal leave? I’ve got less that half of that.) So, I can exhaust my personal leave then beg for leave without pay, or just suck it up and go back to work early. Thankfully, Mr. Beans (my beloved husband) is almost through with law school. So, I’ll most likely be off work until May, and then beg for a flexible schedule until his graduation. My immediate supervisor has said she is willing to work with me on a flexible schedule. Hopefully I can take her word for it. We shall see.

Speaking of Mr. Beans, he went for a job interview out of state… hell, out of our region of the country! The interview went really well. He was told they would make a decision by the middle of the month. I don’t want to say where until we know for sure whether we’re going or not. We’ve talked about it for awhile now and have pretty much decided if they offer him a position, we’re going. So, cross your fingers! We are very excited about the idea of moving because we’re both pretty sick of living in the Bible Belt. I was born and pretty much raised in the South. It’s NOT what it’s cracked up to be. I know when I travel I find myself defending it a lot because I know what a bad rap it gets. But in the end. I’m not so sure it’s worth defending anymore. Taking a dip in the gene pool CAN be refreshing.

More to come…..

No pink... just RED

2007-02-13T18:32:00.000-06:00

Greetings and salutations!

I wish I could report that we'd made plans to travel. Unfortunately, the worker bees in the Kingdom haven't managed to get things together. We were submitted to the embassy for our visa interview last week. Instead of issuing the infamous pink slip, we were given an I-72.

UGH - the dreaded I-72. For those 'in the know" it means that the embassy requested additional information before processing our visa request. It seems that our attorney failed to include a necessary document in the final packet. One would think I would be furious with the attorney. Alas, I'm not. Why? Because I have the memo from the embassy that CLEARLY states the document they are requesting is NO LONGER NEEDED. Yes, my friends, the embassy wants us to submit a document they have said is no longer required! I'm worried some of our fine federal employees have gone to the PGN training school. Seriously. I'd expect this from first-line PGN reviewers, not from our highly trained Foreign Service Officers. These people are supposed to be the creme-de-la-creme! Obviously not. So now we wait. Maybe next week we will be given the go ahead and secure an appointment date. Who knows? I'm taking nothing for granted.

On a completely different subject: for you two-three kind folks who are following along at the 'place, have you noticed the comments on my previous post? (Go ahead, check it out. I'll refresh my drink.......)It seems that I have managed to offend someone(s). I'm actually kind of flattered that someone took the time to read what I have to say. Even more so that my thoughts are so offensive people feel the need to read them OVER AND OVER AND OVER. I'm thinking it’s mob mentality.... the car wreck syndrome... "It was so gruesome but I just couldn't look away!" Much like I told my anonymous compadre, I would welcome anyone to drop by and give me a piece of his or her mind. Yes, I sensor the comments on my blog. I assure you that I've posted every single comment I've ever received. (as if there were too many to post... MUUWWAAHAHAHA!) I require the posts to go through me so that I know they're here! I'm too neglectful to watch on a daily basis. Comments run through my email so I can know when the public stumbles upon my ramblings.

So once again, take a minute to enlighten me. Seriously – I’m apparently an idiot and uneducated about pretty much every topic I’ve posted about so far. I would think that people would jump at the chance to school me. I’m willing to listen. This isn’t a challenge. It’s an invitation to dialogue. I can’t be expected to learn anything if only those who agree with me are the ones in the conversation.

Of course if it’s easier and more convenient to just trash me and lump me in with “those people,” then that’s okay. I understand that sharing with others is a difficult task. I’ve noticed that much of this online community is female and pretty much a Queen Bee and Wannabees kind of world. I don’t mind sitting at the lunch table by myself. I was never one of popular girls either. Old habits die hard; don't they, ladies?.

25 is my new lucky number

2007-01-26T10:25:00.000-06:00

I just can’t put it into words. They were all right. When you get the call, you’re not expecting it and you don’t know what to say.

OUT

We are out!! The PGN decree was signed yesterday, 1/25.
How odd.
DNA Match: Sept 25
Pre-Approval: Oct 25
PGN decree: Jan 25

I do believe that 25 is my new lucky number.

We got the call while we were in WallyWorld buying milk and dogfood. (Not to be used together, thankfully.) I had made it to the back of the store, near the baby section, when my cell phone lit up and I recognized the agency's phone number. I paniced for a few seconds wondering if I should be so excited. What if it was a kick out? I don't know what I would have done. Alas, it was the good news we'd been waiting for. No kick outs and we're done. Decree granted. It took eight weeks for the final signature. I got my copy of the decree and noticed the reviewer signed off on the case on Dec 4th. He got it on a Thursday and signed it out on the following Monday. The rest of the time was waiting for that one final signature. Bureaucracy at its finest.

At this point, we are now awaiting his First Mother’s signature on the final adoption deed, the Protocolo. I want to take a minute to share a few thoughts here. I have seen others write similar statements but now it’s my turn. This will be the fourth time she has had to sign paperwork related to the relinquishment of this precious baby boy. Her baby boy. At any time she has had the right to say “No. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.” I am very well aware that I have no right to this child. I personally would argue that no person on this earth has the right to this child. He is his own person and he belongs to himself. However, for legal purposes, his First Mother has the ability to grant custody to whomever she sees fit. I hope that continues to see fit to grant custody to us.

I won’t insult her by pretending to know how she feels or what she is thinking. I don’t know anything about her or her family. I can only offer that I and my family will do everything in our power to raise her child to manhood. I hope that he is able to accomplish any and every dream that he has. I promise that I will spend every day of my life loving this child and caring for him until I draw my last breath. I know it all sounds trite and cliché and has been said thousands of times in the past month alone. I can only hope that my actions will speak louder than my words.

On a happy note, we’ve cleared another MAJOR hurdle in the journey that will bring us back to Guatemala. We’re hoping for a quick embassy appointment to bring him to our humble little abode. A new life for him and for us. Not better. Not worse. Just new and different and full of possibilities.

Adoption is bad? (or why I should just shut the hell up)

2007-01-24T21:31:00.000-06:00

I’m more than willing to concede there are adoptees in this world who have never “come to terms” with their adoptee status. I put those words in italics on purpose. I don’t know what psychological term to use. Deal with? Accept? Work through? Whatever you, the reader, want to take from that, you will. My point is that this group of individuals is completely defined by, undermined by and devastated by this experience in their lives. I truly am sorry for them. I don’t know what to say to them other than I am sorry. I wish that their experience were a different one. I’m not trying to trivialize their experience. I’m being brief because I obviously don’t have any idea what their truths are. I can’t comment on what they feel because it’s what they feel.

As a future adoptive mother, however, I obviously hope that this is not the case with my future son. I hope that he does not look upon his adoption as the sum total of his world. I expect that he will grieve and may have many doubts and fears. I have already begun to plan for these events in his life. The only thing I can do is be there for him, recognize his feelings and be there for him, in whatever capacity he wants me to be. Tragic events can happen in a person’s life but it does not mean they have to be defined by that tragic event.

I read numerous blogs of women who placed their children for adoption or were adoptees themselves. (Placed is my word. Feel free to peruse their blogs to read how they define it.) These blogs are rarely pleasant and generally fill me with fear and dread. I have to remind myself that it’s highly unlikely someone is going to create a blog that says “Hi. I was adopted and thrilled about it.” Of course not – don’t be silly! For the most part it appears that only people with horrific adoption experiences are compelled to share them with the world. I can understand why. I compare it to the infertility blogs I’ve read. As an infertile I often felt like I was the only person that felt the way I did. Oh, but only if I had known about the blogosphere five years ago!! I might have felt less alone. As such, I can understand the need for adoptees to write about their experiences in order to relate to other who feel the way they do. Power in numbers. I get it.

Another phrase I hear often in the aforementioned adoption / adoptee blogs is when an adoptive mother “gets it” or “doesn’t get it.” I continue to read these blogs in an attempt to be open-minded and understand there is another side to adoption. I’m happy to report that I have finally begun to understand the difference between my ability to “get it” or “not get it.” If I agree with their point of view, I “get it;” if I make the mistake of not agreeing with their point of view, I’m one of those who “doesn’t get it.” Good to know.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not so naïve as to think that someday, my son will tell me that he wishes I never adopted him. He may tell me that I stole him from his “real” family. I hope that it doesn’t happen, but it’s possible. I have to tell you though; my mother has four biological children. Two of these children adore her, are active in her life and thank her constantly for the lives they currently have. The other two children rarely speak to her and blame her for every negative thing that has ever happened in their lives. Same mother, same parenting skills – different perspectives on childhood. And I remind you – they are all the biological children of this woman. Interesting… sharing DNA with another human being does not equal a special bond. This may be an area worth researching. Anyone looking for a thesis topic in social psychology????

I guess this is just another rambling rant. I was under the assumption that folks with blogs were looking for discussion, open dialogue. If not, then close the comments section and simply post. Make it your personal op-ed page. If you’re writing and requesting comments, then you’ve got to assume the general public is going to do just that. If you’re looking for a specific demographic then perhaps a little disclaimer letting the unwelcome know who they are would be a helpful addition to your blog.

Then again, maybe I should just shut my trap and read. I always assume the silence is an invitation to talk.

7 Weeks

2007-01-18T14:52:00.000-06:00

7 weeks

Today marks the seven weeks mark that we’ve been in PGN. I’m trying to stay positive that no news is good news. I watch the forums religiously in an attempt to make some sort of sense. In the past few days there have been a dozen or so “outs” posted. Most of these folks have entry dates in the teens or early 20s of November. We went in on 11/30. Oh please, oh please… let us out soon! Ironically today is my youngest step-son’s 13th birthday. We got confirmation of our DNA match on his older brother’s 15th birthday. I sure was hoping we’d get out today. It would make for a cute story wouldn’t it?

Eye update: My eyes have finally healed. After 4 weeks of steroid drops, fire-water eyewashes and being stuck in my glasses, I am thankfully back in my contacts with no permanent damage. Yea! I love my optometrist. He’s a keeper!

Mom update: She’s fine. She was released from the hospital on 12/30 with a gazillion prescriptions. Final diagnosis? Bleeding ulcer caused by H-pylori. I believe she is finally on the mend. Apparently, my father was feeling overly generous because he bought her a belated birthday present. How about a 2006 P*ontiac $olstice? It absolutely gorgeous! I’m so happy for her. Too bad it’s a stick and I can’t drive stick. (Sad, isn’t it?)

The in-law visit was relatively uneventful. Only one slightly uncomfortable moment when MIL informs me that her sons were on solid food before she left the hospital with them. I must be an idiot for worrying about bottles and formula issues. Colin’s almost 6 months old. I apparently should be picking out a nice corned beef for his homecoming! (I was a good girl, however, and kept drinking my margarita rather than calling BS on her.)

In other news, last weekend I made a pilgrimage to I*K*E*A.
If I hade a religion, this place would be my temple! It was the most amazing experience. I drool online all the time and have ordered a few minor things. Unfortunately, the closest one is SIX hours away. I’ve complained repeatedly that we needed to go when we both had a three day weekend. Thank you, Dr. King! Because how better can I give back to my community than by shopping? Can you believe I bought a room full of bedroom furniture that fit into a 1999 C@mry? Honestly, I love this place. I got tears in my eyes when we pulled into the parking garage! It’s the simple things in life that move me. Being able to decorate a house exactly the way I want to? PRICELESS. Of course I couldn’t leave out my little man. Unfortunately, my favorite store doesn’t ship any of its baby textiles (quilts, bed linens, etc.). So I loaded up on my favorites. I bought a new quilt for my bed as well. While there we decided we wanted to buy a new bed, too. They didn’t have what we wanted so we’re going to have to go back. LOLOL – no you heard me correctly. We have to go BACK! Tentatively, we’re heading back for President’s weekend. This time we’ll be renting a minivan. I promise I will do my best to fill it up before I head back home. As always, all bets are off for this schedule roadtrip if we’re too busy in Guatemala bringing home my precious baby boy. He turned five months last week. If things don’t move quickly, he’ll have a beard by the time he comes home!

I continue to read around the blogosphere on a daily basis. I’m gonna get that blogroll thing done sometime soon. Maybe this weekend. Beats cleaning the house.

Peace!

MIA

2006-12-27T22:03:00.000-06:00

I know that I’ve been missing in action of late. Perhaps someone has noticed? If not, then it won’t matter that I haven’t posted in almost a month!

It’s been an interesting bit of time. I should start by saying that we are currently still in PGN for those who are following along with the home version of the adoption game. We’re not expecting to hear anything until after the holidays. I’ve heard of a ‘few’ outs in the past two days. Perhaps we’ll get lucky but I’m not holding my breath. However, after the New Year, I’ll be chomping at the bit. I’m truly praying we get no previos. I think I’ll loose it if we’ve got to wait another 6-8 weeks on top of the time we’ve already waited.

In health news, I finally got over my cold/ chest congestion / ear infection/ whatever it was only to now be typing this with the screen at 200%. Why? Well I have swollen / inflamed corneas. Absolutely fabulous! NOT. My eyes are so distorted that no amount of vision correction will work. I just can’t see. I’m usually -5 and -5.5 in my left and right eye, respectively…. myopia, presbyopia and astigmatism. Yes folks – I’m an optometrist’s wet dream. Imagine by distain when my new contacts just didn’t seem to sit right. We’ve been trying for 4 months to clear up the problem. Finally, I thought we’d done it. Then my glasses come in and I CAN’T FREAKIN’ SEE!!! The op-shop tells me I’ll have to “get used to them.” People, I’ve been wearing glasses for 22 years and contacts for 17 years. I think I’ve got the hang of it. So I annoy the hell out of the doc and lo and behold – the girl’s got inflamed corneas! Apparently my eyes are so dry that they need their own IVs - stat! So for the past week and a half I’ve been using these molten lava eye drops every three hours. I’m wearing my glasses, which do nothing more than keep me from running into large objects. My dearly beloved has become my chauffer. (That made for fun XMas shopping.) Anyhoo – I’m still seriously visually impaired. The doc isn’t back in the office until 1/02/07. So if you see some half-blind chick screaming in pain as she puts drops in her eyes while sitting on a park bench, please say hello… and hand me a tissue!

The holiday itself was nice. Got to see the family and no one was sick. (Or so we thought. More on that in a bit.) Everyone loved the presents we gave. I found a beautiful pottery Nativity set for my mother when we were in Guatemala. My father got a glass ornament TARDIS from the Dr. Who series. (For Dr. Who fans, you’ll get it. If not, I can’t explain.) They both loved them. We got a lot of stuff for the baby. My mother crocheted a gorgeous baby blanket in rainbow colors. It’s absolutely gorgeous! My adoring hubby bought me an IPod Nano in lime green. I’m completely thrilled….. if only I knew how to get my music into the contraption. I guess I know what I’ll be doing this weekend!

We arrived back home last night after we made the six hour drive back to our house. As we were unloading the car, my brother called to say my mother had been admitted to the hospital. That morning she’d complained off and on of having stomach pains. She said it was just gas from eating too much on X-mas Day. By last night, morphine and Demerol weren’t helping the pain. We waited all night for news. I finally called my father this morning. He said they ruled out another heart attack and that all of her blood work looked normal. A CAT scan revealed some inflammation in her upper colon. They’re doing an EGD sometime tomorrow to see if they can figure out what’s wrong. I’m hoping it’s nothing major. Mama’s birthday is the 31st… a New Year’s Eve baby! She’ll be 68. As always, any prayers, good vibes, incantations and /or chants are greatly appreciated.

On a different topic: I’ve been following along on others’ blogs. I’m a bit annoyed at the Blogger Beta thing. So is the deal I have to switch or I can’t post on others’ blogs? I’m confused. The word is that the Beta version sucks. I hate not being able to post but I hate being forced into a crappy situation. Any feedback?

My in-laws are coming this weekend. So, I’m hoping to have plenty of time to blog. I truly have lots to say and topics to post. I’m just lazy right now… oh yeah… and BLIND.

Peace!

Visiting

2006-12-01T13:25:00.000-06:00

I haven’t posted in a bit which is completely sad. Life has been quite the whirlwind over the past week or so. Currently I am fighting what is either a head cold, a sinus infection, strep throat or a combination of all of the above.

The visit trip was amazing! We had a wonderful time. We ate the food; we drank the water; we loved the people. Everyone was so friendly and helpful at our hotel. There were a few disparaging looks when we brought Colin out of the room. I expected that. Not everyone in Guatemala approves of international adoption. I certainly don’t expect them to be openly happy about it if they don’t agree with it. But on to the details:

We traveled on Thanksgiving Day which was surprisingly nice. There weren’t delays at any of the airports and we sailed right through all the checks. We arrived in Guatemala City in the afternoon. The weather was gorgeous. Agency staff picked us up and brought us to the hotel. We checked in to a gorgeous suite. We could see mountains and a volcano. It was lovely! That evening, we enjoyed a HUGE Thanksgiving buffet. There was a traditional turkey and a ham, both on carving stations. There were shrimp cocktails, filet mignon, various casseroles, and traditional Guatemalan dishes. There were numerous vegetable dishes. There were breads and pastries. The desserts were divine. Wine flowed like water from a waterfall. It was breathtaking! We were so stuffed at the end of the night. After visiting with the other families from our agency, we all returned to our hotel to get some sleep. Yeah right!

Friday morning our foster mother arrived. She brought her daughter with her, too. We were able to visit in a private room. Our agency staff helped with an ‘interview’ where we were able to find out the ‘quick and dirty’ on caring for our son. All of those questions you should remember to ask…(You know, like how often does he eat? What does he eat? How often does he have a BM? What are his likes/dislikes? When does he get a bath? Are there things he’s afraid of? How long has he been with you?, etc.) Well you can’t ever remember those things when you’re meeting your child for the first time. Thankfully our agency takes care of this stuff! They had a whole checklist of questions. We all were able to go through the checklist and have the questions asked / translated / answered / translated back. Everyone felt relaxed and there was no pressure to ‘remember everything.’ The agency staff even took all the notes to give to us once we went our merry way. I can’t say enough about how smoothly this process was. Agencies don’t have a lot of control over certain parts of the adoption process. However, the parts they CAN control should run like clockwork. My agency? They’ve got their stuff together. That’s all I can say.

As for the actual meeting: It will have to be its own post. Right now I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s not what I thought it would be. That’s not a negative thing. It just wasn’t at all what I expected. Leaving him? Not what I expected either; but again, that will need a separate post to better explain. Today? I’m sticking to the facts.

About my son: He is quite the little man in his own right. Even though he’s only three months old (almost four), he seems like such an old soul. He’s very inquisitive and fascinated by the world around him. He’s very picky and likes life to be very scheduled. (He’s already like his father!) We found out very quickly that as long as we follow HIS schedule and do things HIS way, life is fine. Living out of a hotel room is a bit of a pain, but we managed. I think he’ll be much happier once he comes home. I know WE will! It didn’t take us long to get into a happy little rhythm. We got very little sleep during the whole visit. Colin doesn’t like to sleep much and was quite fussy. I was worried about that at first but then was kinda relieved. To begin with, I can’t imagine how scary it must have been for him. He’s been with his foster mother since he was two days old. Then these fools show up, making strange sounding noises, and they expect me to be calm?? I also felt relief because I felt this was as real as it gets. He wasn’t quiet and sleepy. Several of the other families’ children were that way. They slept a lot or just laid on their parents’ shoulders. That makes for a Hallmark moment but it’s not realistic. I can’t help but think when the children come home, the parents will be rudely surprised to find out life with baby can sometimes be rough. It may sound odd but I was comforted that Colin was himself. When he was happy he was quiet. When he was mad, he let us know. He’s fiercely independent. I love that.

As far as his coming home, we found out that we entered PGN on 11/30/06. FINALLY! I was beginning to wonder since several other families we stayed with who have the same attorney and similar timelines had already gone in. They say ‘no news is good news’ but I think THEY are nuts! I feel better knowing we’ve started the downhill slide. We’re hoping they aren’t any hold ups and the review goes smoothly. Out attorney has a good reputation so hopefully that will help. We’ve given up hope of having Colin home for Christmas. It just seems so unrealistic now. We all know how slow things get during the holidays. Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to be one of the first to get out after the new year?!? One can hope!!

I plan to write more over the weekend when I’m feeling better (wishful thinking). I’ve been catching up on everyone else’s blogs. Some positive and some negative. I know so many are gearing up for the holiday season. Hanukkah is only two weeks away; Christmas is four weeks; Winter Solstice is in about three weeks.

May every one have a blessed holiday season no matter which one you’re celebrating. If I’m leaving your celebrations out, please let me know. I’d love to include them here :-)

Meeting my son

2006-11-22T21:03:00.000-06:00

This will probably be my shortest post.

I should in bed right now as our plane leaves in 9 hours. At this time tomorrow I will be in a hotel room in Guatemala City trying to fall asleep. I will meet my son for the first time on Friday morning. There just aren't words to express my emotions right now. For those of you who have experienced this already, you understand exactly. I'm hoping when I return I'll be able to explain it to others.

We will return on Monday, sad and exhausted, but happy to know that the next time we make this journey it will be to bring our son home for good.

Happy Turkey Day to everyone. Cliche as it may be - take a minute to count your blessings. I'm definitely counting mine.

Peace!

Blowin' smoke

2006-11-16T21:18:00.000-06:00

It’s nice to see so many new faces dropping by to comment on my sad attempt to share my thoughts. It’s truly appreciated. Feel free to drop by the place anytime. New faces and new ideas always welcome.

For those who have been following along in the comments section (and I know you have…. you never know when there’s going to be a quiz)… you may have seen an interesting comment that seemed out of place. I’m not going to give shout outs to the writer; there’s no need. I just thought I’d provide a bit of insight as to my obvious faux pas… or was it?

Jumping around the blogosphere as I’m apt to do rather than work, I come along various pages. I read one, follow a link on a comment, find an interesting article… and two hours later I’m on a completely new topic leaving comments. Anyone else do that? Yeah, just me… right.

Obviously my blog is focused on all things adoption right now because that’s where my brain is at. I’m sure eventually I’ll get to ranting about my nut job family and my sorry ass job. Until then, it’s adoption. I’ve spent HOURS reading blogs, newspaper articles, e-zines, and peer-reviewed journal articles on the subject. I can’t get enough information. I try desperately to glean as much knowledge from as many different places so that I can make informed decisions. I’d like to think other parents are doing the same thing. (Although given the constant tragic comedy I witness at WallyWorld on a near daily basis, I’m guessing not….)

One of the hardest things for me to read is the blog of a first mothers / birthmother / woman who relinquished her child for adoption. Whatever their title, these are generally painful stories. Hubby can’t figure out why on earth I would want to read them. I’m usually angry and in a funk for awhile after I share what I’ve read. I remind him that I can’t learn a damn thing if I surround myself with like-minded people. What good is it for us all to sit around blowing smoke up each other’s hoo-has? Preaching to the choir is an exercise in futility. And so, I return to my painful reading.

My personal opinion is that the majority of the stories I read are of women who are obviously angry. When I read their stories, I’m try to place myself in their shoes and I find myself understanding way they would feel the way they do. Regardless of my opinions though, it’s their story and they’re free to tell it as they see fit. I can’t tell them how to feel. Not my place; not my right.

For several months, I’ve dropped by a particular blog every once in awhile. The writer relinquished her daughter for adoption many years ago. Her daughter is now an adult and, by mother’s report, appears to be doing well. They are building a relationship after all these years. It’s obvious that this writer does not have many positive thoughts about adoption nor her daughter’s adoptive parents.

Ironically, I found this blog on an adoptive mother’s list of “must reads.” The writer posts comments on the adoptive mother’s blog on a regular basis. She shares her viewpoints and even comments on other comments. Great! Dialogue!

I set this stage to explain that during these many months I have read numerous posts by her and read the comments left by her readers. I admit that I disagree with most of her posts and generally all of the comments. However, they’ve given me much food for thought. My views have been challenged. It’s altered a few of my views and reaffirmed others. All in all, a satisfactory process – give and take.

A few days ago, I found myself on her blog and read a post I didn’t understand. I tried very hard to follow the logic but I just couldn’t make the connections. So, I sat down and composed a very brief but highly cautious (and what I thought was sensitive) comment requesting further information. I’d seen posts from other people – including adoptive parents – and it appeared that the writer was more than willing to share her views. Imagine my surprise when I dropped by later on that day to find my comment deleted with a chastisement that I needed to learn how to post a sensitive comment and if I could learn that, then my questions would be considered. Wha- at? I was shocked. What on earth could I have done wrong? I thought about my comment, my question, the words I’d used… I couldn’t figure it out. So I decided to post again. This time I explained that I truly meant no offense and that I was really just trying to understand the process better. I apologized for having offended if I had, but also included that I’d been reading for a while and did not understand where I’d gone wrong. I knew the comment would be deleted but she’d left no email address on the blog by which I could contact her privately. Sadly, I decided this was just a blog that I wouldn’t frequent in the future. Obviously, it wasn’t the place for me and I’d offended the writer. C’est la vie.

Later that day, I received an email from the writer as I have left my email address for private contact (my choice entirely, I realize). The writer is kind enough to share a few suggestions on how to find answers for my inquisitive mind. However, she explains to me that I’ve stumbled across the wrong blog. Her blog is not intended for the purpose I’m attempting to use it. It’s not for adoptive parents at all. She can’t help me find the answers I’m looking for.

At first I was okay with that. Mistaken identify, that’s all. I’d walked into a bar to order a drink but didn’t realize it was members only. I get it. No offense. I’ll just move my business to another bar... mea culpa.

But herein lies the rub…….. if I was bringing my questions to the wrong blog, that’s fine. But why was I chastised for not framing my question correctly? (I hadn’t been sensitive and needed to learn how to ask a question correctly, remember?). I even noticed when I’d dropped back by and found my comment deleted, that another adoptive parent’s question was posted AND answered. I was confused… where was the difference? How was her question better worded than mine? How was it more sensitive? If the blog wasn’t for adoptive parents to ask questions, then why was that one answered?

And then it hit me…. it became glaringly obvious….

I’d asked the wrong question.

It wasn’t that I phrased it wrong. It was the question itself. As long as I made sure not to ask any questions that hurt or challenged the writer’s ideas, then my questions would be okay. But if my question even hinted that I didn’t agree with her thoughts or questioned her logic, my questions weren’t welcome.

That, my friends, is completely okay. That’s what blogs are for. Their authors choose what is posted and who comments. Freedom of the press instantaneously! But do me a favor … if ya don’t like my comment, just delete it. Don’t blow smoke up my hoo-ha and tell me it’s one thing when it’s another. And do us all a favor and be honest with yourself.

Paper thoughts

2006-11-10T09:28:00.000-06:00

I read a post over on Third Mom’s blog (http://thirdmom.blogspot.com) and it made me want to comment. She referenced a paper written by an obviously brilliant individual. Without researching the author’s background, I’m guessing by her name that she might have personal experience with the world of international adoption. She makes many points in her paper and I just had to add my $3.50. (two cents is NEVER enough for me)

I will begin by saying that I do not hold a Ph.D. I do not have unfettered access to thousands of peer-reviewed journals. Alas, my days of extensive research are through. Two degrees under my belt and I am finished. (BS in Psychology and Master’s in Public Health, if you’re truly interested. Neither of which is of any consequence to this post.) I do have an opinion, go figure, so I thought I would share it here. It’s nothing but conjecture and my first thoughts on the subject. I’m more than willing to do further research if folks provide the citations!

It would be difficult for anyone to argue that international adoption exists solely to find homes for parentless children.

I’m not sure who would honestly argue this point. People adopt children internationally for a myriad of reasons. I think many adoptive parents go through a series of thoughts and feelings on their decision to adopt, internationally or domestically. These feelings may change during the adoption process or may gradually evolve over time, far after their children are grown adults. I have to admit that this statement makes me immediately ask the question, Does the author wish to make the argument that international adoption exists solely to find children for childless adults?

I will speak only about Guatemala because that is where my son was born.
The current fertility rate in Guatemala is 3.82 children per female of childbearing age. In the US, it’s 2.09. The infant mortality rate in Guatemala is 3.1%. In the US, it’s .6%. (That’s point six… as in just a little over ½ a percent). There is no current viable governmental social services system in that country. This means the bulk of the social services provided for those who need it are through faith-based and/or private institutions. Some adoption agencies provide humanitarian aid in the region, not just for those children that are being adopted. My point is that the high fertility rate in Guatemala does not exist because it is number three on the list in regard to number of international adoptions (behind China and Russia). The fertility rate has been high for centuries. Agrarian cultures, countries with large Roman Catholic populations, countries in which women have little control over their lives (including educational opportunities and reproductive rights) all tend to have higher fertility rates. Guatemala’s high fertility rate and high poverty rate are not due to international adoption. Ceasing international adoption will not lower either rate and it will contribute to the deaths of children and the future poverty of those who survive. Some share that opinion, including Guatemalans. Some don’t. And that’s okay.

Motivation to adopt internationally had shifted from child-focused to parent focused.

References are made throughout the paper to adoption being “parent-centered.” This is not the first time I’ve encountered such a statement. I am currently in the midst of an international adoption. I cannot seem to figure out what about this process is centered on me. Honestly, each step of the process has been centered on rules made by various governmental agencies (both foreign and domestic), adoption agencies, social workers, judges, lawyers, court staff, notaries, doctors, post office clerks, the list goes on and on. I’m not sure at what point any of this has been centered on me. MY wishes, feelings, and thoughts have largely been ignored. It’s been a constant parade of demands and requirements of others and largely out of my control. I’m not arguing whether or not my needs are superior to the needs of my child. I’m simply stating that I don’t see how the process is centered on me.

Of interest, the author refers to a study where parents stated their motivation to adopt from Korea rather than domestically included “shorter waiting periods” and “an interest in international adoption.” She then draws the conclusion that this “reflects the parent-centered motivations.” Why? Perhaps the parents were thinking of their child when they stated they wanted a shorter waiting period. The sooner the completion of the adoption, the sooner the child is permanently placed with the family. Bonding behaviors begin immediately and environmental influences are very strong. Language development also begins within months of birth. I’m no language expert but additional difficulties with the transition from one language to anther would be exacerbated the older the child is at the time of placement. Perhaps the motivation was to bring the child home and establish bonds early. I have no problem understanding a child will have difficulty being separated from his first mother. But is it selfish to not want additional attachments with foster mothers, orphanage workers, etc. to also have to be broken? I would think it would be highly child-centered to think this way. As for an interest in international adoption, why is this inherently parent centered? I would argue I’m thinking about the future best interest of my child - to remain in a stable home. It may be, quite possibly, the only home he has any conscious memory of in his entire life. More on that later.

Transracial adoptive parents, in general, not just those with Asian children, tend to be publicly acknowledged for their selflessness and courage in taking on the challenge of raising children of color…..

Ummmm – No? Again, speaking only from my personal frame of reference, this has not been the case. I get dumb ass comments like “Couldn’t you just have one of you own ?” or “There are so many kids in orphanages here. Why go somewhere else and bring one back?” Truly, I’ve gotten ZERO pats on the back for “taking on the challenge.” People who are positive about the adoption simply say things like “That’s great!” or “Congratulations.” Pretty much the same things they’ve said to my pregnant colleagues.

Ironically, when I read the blogs of most adoptive parents, I find there is an overwhelming need to feel normal and “just like everybody else.” I admit I think this is naïve on our part. How could I think people aren’t going to look a bit surprised to hear “we have a son” when they’ve been around me for the previous nine months and I’ve obviously not been pregnant? How could I think there won’t be questions when my café au lait colored son walks toward me saying “mama” and my pale bluish-white Irish skinned self picks him up? I’m not stupid. But, I wanted to be a mother AND there were kids in other countries that needed someone to fulfill this role because the first one they had no longer had the ability to do so. Why not bring us together?

I feel like I have to throw something in about the “why not adopt domestically?” I won’t even get into the fact that I trust the legal system in the US as far as I can….. nope, not even that much.[ Did I mention hubby is on the path to becoming a lawyer? Lucky me, huh?] Here’s the cut and dry for me. International adoptions are final. Period. No I changed my mind. No I got my life together now. No I made a mistake. No I won the lottery. Domestic adoptions just don’t have the case law to back them. More and more, family courts and family law attorneys are permitted to sever adoptive family ties if anyone from the first family lodges a complaint. LET ME BE CLEAR: I am interested in what is best for a child. Once a decision has been made and a child has been placed, I do not feel it is in the best interest of the child to reverse an adoption because one or more of the parties have now changed their mind. I just don’t. I do believe that there are first mothers who should have been given more support in order to parent their children. I don’t, however, feel that the way to rectify that mistake is to reverse an adoption decision once it’s been made. I just don’t. And that is a post all to itself….. and I digress….. back to the paper….

Economic necessity is one of the dominant factors in relinquishment…….. The neocolonialism inherent in that exchange is striking.

Say again? Adoptive parents are acquiring the resources of the child’s native country. I’d say that indigenous children are not seen as a resource in Guatemala. They are viewed, in large part, as a burden. They are expendable and at the mercy of the government which requires the poor to work, in servitude, for nearly a third of the year. Their families can’t afford to feed, clothe or educate them. It’s not fair and this system obviously needs to change. However, it’s a change that MUST come from within. The Guatemalan people will have to make these changes for themselves. Outside help makes it worse. (For the record, the last time the US got “involved” in Guatemala specifically, it overthrew the only democratically elected government in the nation’s history and start 30+ years on civil war. Hundreds of thousands of indigenous people were slaughtered in their own country. Obviously, I’d prefer if the US kept out of Guatemala. It’s done quite enough, thank you.) In my case, I will give my son a chance at a better life – an education, health care, food, clothes. If he so chooses to return to his native country, he will do so much better prepared than his first family could have ever prepared him. I agree that it’s not fair this is the case. Maybe he will be an instrument for change. It appears that many of the leaders of Latin American were educated in the US. Coincidence?

The author goes on to quote an adoptee who wonders why “the supporters of international adoption are quiet about the children who are left behind.” SAYS WHO? Many parents of internationally adopted children are very vocal about adoption. They learn much about their children’s birth country and try to incorporate aspects of that culture into their children’s lives. They also tend to be the most generous supporters of orphanages and humanitarian aid to the country from which they adopt. On a more personal note, I MUST address the reference to children who are “neglected, abandoned and abused” and the idea that parents whishing to adopt should take on a personal responsibility to these children. BULLSHIT. Stop passing the buck. Abused, neglected and abandoned children are EVERYONE’S responsibility. The idea that a parent whishing to adopt a child should not want a healthy child, both physically and emotionally, is total crap. When was the last time you heard a pregnant woman say, “Gee, we were really hoping for a girl with Down’s Syndrome. We got stuck with normal chromosomal counts.” How often do you hear parents of a toddler say “Damn. We were hoping he’d have ADHD like his older brother. Now he just won’t get what it’s like to have a disability.” GOOD GRIEF. It’s a totally human response to want a healthy child. Adoptive parents are no different. So to suddenly find it selfish on the part of adoptive parents to want young, healthy children in their lives where they can provide health care and a positive, safe, loving environment from as early an age as possible just makes no sense to me. Again, wasn’t the point to act “in the best interest of the child?” How is this wish “parent-centered?” Truly, I’m at a loss.

And I just have no add my own little tidbit on culture. Again, completely from my personal frame of reference. I have two step-sons. (I refer to them as my sons; however for clarity I make the “step” distinction here.) They live in Germany with their biological mother. Both boys speak German and only a few phrases of English. Officially they are both German and American citizens. They hold passports in both countries. Their mother is German; their father, an American. They were 4 and 3 months, respectively, when they returned to Germany with their mother. They are now 15 and 12. Now, having NEVER lived in the US that they remember, they both talk about being Americans. They walk around like something from the latest Cash Money Records video. K-Fed’s got nothing on these two pale faced Germans who can’t speak a word of English, but are great at phonetically rapping IN ENGLISH… (with a few German words thrown in because ‘they sound better’.) They couldn’t give a rat’s ass about German culture. Don’t care; aren’t interested. When I visit them and want to learn about their language, their culture, etc., they are thoroughly annoyed with me. It’s not just because they are children either. Their German family can’t tell me anything about their history or traditions. They can’t explain any of the various holidays. I just hear “I don’t know. It’s a day off.”

My point is that just because you look a certain way doesn’t mean that you have ties to a particular culture. Sorry, it doesn’t. There are many people who cut ties with their racial / cultural / ethnic communities, for one reason or another, and choose to join a new one. It happens every day. I think it’s fabulous. People should be where they feel they belong. I can assure you that I may “look” the part of the good Southern belle but I’m physically ill on a daily basis at the horrific racist drivel said in my presence. But it’s okay, right? Because “I’m one of ‘them.’” I must be ….. I LOOK this way. If my son wants to learn about Guatemalan culture I will give him ample opportunities. I will share and learn and experience as much as I can to pass along to him. But if he ends up wanting to adopt the cultural traditions of the Aborigines in the Australian outback, don’t blame me. Some people just aren’t interested in their own culture.

So if you’re still reading, I’m impressed. I tend to be long winded when I get going. But hey, doesn’t that make up for the space between posts??

Jumping into the deep end

2006-11-07T20:44:00.000-06:00

I have noticed over time that I consistently read the following phrases on blogs:

“You misunderstood what I meant.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You can’t understand tone from my words.”

“I’m sorry if you took it that way.”

Nonverbal communication. It’s the gold standard when relating to people. I can write a sentence on a piece of paper and ask 20 people to read it. I’ll get 20 different intonations, facial expressions, speaking styles, and body stances. Some people will use their hands as they speak. Others will look directly at me, or at the ground, or at the piece of paper. Unless I give them directions… a screenplay if you will… they have no idea what message I wish for them to convey or the message I intend for the listener to receive. One better, even if I give explicit instructions as to how to deliver the message, I can’t govern how the receiver will receive it. I can try to explain. I can mean one thing and have the receiver gain something completely different. That’s language.

I begin this post with those thoughts to begin writing a very difficult post. It’s been “brewing in my head” for weeks but I couldn’t figure out how to begin. No matter how hard I tried, the words sounded cold and harsh. I couldn’t find a way to ask the questions I wanted to ask without worrying I would hurt someone in the process. I thought if perhaps I tried to write my post from both points of view, that I might come to a better understanding. The truth is, I can’t see the other point of view. I honestly have tried. I continue reading blog after blog but I never seem to come to an “A-ha” moment where I see the light. After much contemplation I realized that it wasn’t possible for me to see it at this point. The truth is the hard questions aren’t always the easy ones to hear. There’s no way I can possibly grow if I don’t ask the questions in my mind. So here goes….

I spend a great deal of time reading the blogs of women who no longer have their children in their custody due to adoption. Call them firstmothers. Call them birthmothers. Call them mothers. As I don’t want to use the wrong term, for this discussion I will refer to this group as “writers” because I only know them through their writings. Most of the writers’ blogs are very angry and the writers obviously feel a great deal of pain, anguish, and sorrow. I have found very few who have a positive outlook on the adoption process as a whole. Adoptive mothers are portrayed as evil, heartless women who have “stolen their children.” The writers are “victims” who have been lied to, duped and mislead. Adoptive mothers “don‘t get it.” The writers explain that they have been marginalized by society, including adoptive mothers as “dirty,” “sluts” and “inferior.” They point to adoptive mother blogs that ignore their pain or, even worse, attack them on websites through posts or comments. Very little energy is spent exploring any of the positive aspects of adoption.

Obviously, I also spend a lot of time reading the blogs of women who have or are in the process of adopting. I’ll call them AMs for lack of better term. Some are adopting from another country; some domestically. Some have fostered their children prior to adopting them through a state foster care system. There are transracial adoptions. Some are queer families; some are single people who wish to be parents. Some have open adoptions where there is a relationship in some form between multiple families. The AMs often write of the experiences that brought them to adoption. These stories are generally filled with pain, too. There is generally discussion of how “hard” the path to motherhood has been. There will be posts about how “unfair” things have been as the “crack whore down the street” just “had another one.” AMs write about their grand plans to spoil their children. As long as they love the children, nothing else matters. The outside world should not view their family any different from any other family. Questions about the adoption are seen as insulting. For the most part, “adoption” is over once the actual process is complete. Very little energy is spent exploring any of the negative aspects of adoption.

I'm willing to concede I have absolutely NO experience in the feelings of the first group. I am not a writer. I have ONLY experience in the AM group, as this is what I am. I am struck with the notion that neither one of these groups has a monopoly on pain. But I have the overhwleming feeling that it really doesn't matter which group one is a part of. Shouldn't it be completely about the child ? If so, then I pose my first of several questions surrouding adoption:

IF the absolute bottom line is “what is in the best interest of the child,” why is there a need for the adoptive family, including the adopted child, to bear a responsibility for any pain/anguish/sorrow/guilt/[insert experience here] that the writer feels?

Let me try to explain my confusion:
A writer states that her life has been taken from her. The adoption that occurred shattered her self esteem and has been the root of many of her problems in life. The world needs to understand that she deserves to know her child and be a part of that child’s life. There is a genetic bond that cannot be broken. AMs do not have a right to the writer’s child. AMs don’t have the right to interfere with a reunion between the writer and said child.

Okay – but is this not the burden of the writer to bear? Why does the adoptive family, including the adopted child, now have to change their lives and accommodate a possible stranger because this reunion will help the writer ease her condition? Is this in the best interest of the child?

At this point, I feel the need to throw out clarifications. Maybe they’re needed; maybe not. I am not referring to an adult adoptee that seeks a reunion with their first family. I feel adults should have the right to make these decisions. I feel genuinely sorry for adoptees from “back in the day” that have no access to this information or were lied to about their adoptions. I am also willing to concede that this still occurs today. I'd like to think that it occurs less often now, but I could be wrong. (Sorry, I don't see how the two pale faces from Idaho can lie to their daughter from Beijing and convince her that she was born to them. Call me kooky.)

I also understand that a blog is for many people, myself included, a kind of journal where their thoughts and feelings are shared. Often times it may appear that writers only think about adoption and nothing else. A reader should keep in mind that the blog is but one outlet for the writer. In real life, the writer is no different than anyone else, so to speak. The writer could be your co-worker, your teacher, your mail lady…. your mom. Who knows? The point is that the writer is putting her feelings out there to see. They are her words to be heard. As a reader, I try to keep this in perspective.

Having said this, I still feel confused. I often find myself reading, “They just don’t get it,” referring to adoptive mothers. I get the overwhelming feeling that unless AMs recognize that adoption is a terrible thing and allow the writer to be a part of her child’s life, no matter what, that AMs will never “get it.”

I don’t follow the logic. I can think of several examples to illustrate my point but I fear using any of them for fear of angering readers even further. I’ll stick to the here-and-now.

Here’s my current take on the matter: If my responsibility is to ensure the best interest of a child and said child has been entrusted to my care, then I must and will make all decisions for said child. This includes the foods he eats, the clothes he wears, the activities in which he engages and the people with whom he interacts. This includes all people at all times. It is not my responsibility to foster a relationship between him and his first family. If he seeks such a relationship in the future, then I will do what I can to support such a relationship. I will assist him to the best of my ability and provide him what information I have in my possession. That is my plan at this time. It is what I feel is in his best interest.

I can’t stress enough that I genuinely feel for the writers I read. Their pain is obvious. Many of their stories are horrific and heartbreaking. I can’t begin to imagine what their experiences have been. I can understand where such angry and vitriol comes from when I read of how many of these adoptions came to be. I can “see” many scared, lonely young women who were given no other option during their pregnancies. They were abused, used and tossed to the side. There is absolutely nothing positive that can be said regarding the way they were treated. For many this pattern of treatment has continued throughout their lives. I am truly sorry for that. I, for my part, have tried to be a good steward of resources and helped the women I have encountered in my life who have found themselves in the same situation. Some I have been able to help; some I have not. Some refused to be helped. Each of these women has made the choices in their lives that lead them to the place where they were then and are now. Some are in better places now; some are in worse.

Having said all of that, I still do not understand how an AM can make things better by encouraging a relationship between the child in her care and a writer if she does not think it is in the best interest of the child. Regardless of what the writer needs or wants or thinks, the child is not in the writer’s care. The AM has been given the responsibility of that child. For better or worse.

The truth is that I have very few readers. I don’t think any of them are writers – first mothers, birthmothers, mother of children who have been adopted by another person. I’m hoping a few might drop by and say hi….. give me their opinions, their wrath…. Truly, I’m hoping so. There’s no way in the world I’m going to learn a darn thing if I’m not willing to stick my neck out. Someone very dear to me once said, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” I truly do want some answers. I may not like them but I’m wiling to listen.

Pre-approval !!!!

2006-10-25T11:18:00.000-06:00

There’s no happier word in our house today. 30 days to the day of our DNA match, the email arrived from the embassy. I had to do a double-take when I checked my inbox. I’m shocked that something has been completed within the given timeline when it comes to the U.S. government. Truly, I never cease to be amazed! Hopefully we’ll be in PGN soon and on the downhill slide to bringing our little man home.

We received updated pictures from his two month checkup. I can’t believe how much of an actual PERSON he is. He’s already got a personality within that little smile. He no longer looks like the mutant “infant”…lolol… you know I think all infants look alike. (and they're generally alien looking!) MY little boy has his own grin… and it’s beautiful. He’s big too – at two months he’s already 13 ½ pounds. Can you believe it? And nearly 2 feet long! I’m floored. He’s big and healthy and happy. I couldn’t be more proud!

On the homefront, thanks for all of the well wishes for my parents. Both are at home and recovering nicely. Thankfully my brother and his wife live close by and can help them with errands, grocery shopping, and the like. I call them daily and get reports. They’re both getting stronger every day. Of course I try to give them updates about Colin’s status to bolster their spirits. They’re both so excited about their grandson. I can’t wait to bring them video from the trip.

29 days…. It’s 29 days until I hold my son for the first time. Tickets are booked… hotel reservations are made…. I’m trying not to explode from excitement. As one fellow blogger posted before …. “They expect me to work?!?!?!?” Somehow I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that. Another month of trying to stay focused? Yeah right!

Family emergency

2006-10-16T14:34:00.000-06:00

I’m finally getting around to writing a few thoughts about the past week. It’s been quite emotionally draining. For those who aren’t aware, my SIL called me 5:30am last Tuesday morning to tell me that BOTH of my parents were in the hospital. I don’t feel like recanting all of the details but the bottom line was that my father had a stroke and my mother had a heart attack….. within a few hours of each other. They were both in ICU, and eventually were both moved to private rooms. My mother was released on Thursday. My father is still in the hospital. They’re saying he should be released today or tomorrow.

The prognosis for both is a full recovery. Daddy doesn’t appear to have ANY effects from the stroke. He’ll have out patient therapy for a while to make sure everything is still humming along the way it’s supposed to. Mama will have to take it easy and build her strength back up. Thankfully she has no blockage and there’s no need for surgery. (Her heart attack was the kind when the blood vessels basically fold in on themselves. The cardiologist says with time and medication that her heart muscle may actually repair itself.) My brother and SIL live less than five minutes from my parents. Thankfully they’re able to help my parents while they recover. I live so far away (6 hour drive) so I’m not much help for day-to-day help. I drove to where they are on Tuesday but had to return home on Sunday to go back to work.

Obviously I’m a bit shaken up about the whole incident. Daddy is 60 years old and Mama is 67. Had things not turned out so well, I could be an orphan at 32. I can’t imagine my life without them here. There’s still so much I need to learn from them. They drive me nuts on a regular basis but I’d be lost without them.

My beloved husband remained at home, taking care of my dog and keeping my spirits up from afar. He’s so good at taking care of me even when he can’t be right there with me. I’m reminded how lucky I am to have such a wonderful man in my life.

My bright bit of happiness is that we’ve been given travel dates for our visit trip to Guatemala. We’ll be there for Thanksgiving! I’m reminded how important family truly is and how much I want my parents to enjoy their grandson. I sure do hope we bring him home soon!

Silenced

2006-10-01T20:02:00.000-06:00

I actually have a lot to say this evening on two subjects that, on the surface, appear completely unrelated. However, for me, they are very much intertwined. The topic is on being silenced.

The first situation involves a blog that I frequently read. She is an adoptive mother of two children from Korea. They are now teenagers. I can't say that I've read through all of her archives but what I have read shows a very insightful, intuitive, loving mother. She speaks often of her feelings regarding her part in the international adoption process. I don't always agree with everything she writes, but I appreciate her point of view. It's often given me 'food for thought.' It's nice to have your views and opinions challenged from time to time, especially in such a non-threatening way. She's never been 'in your face' about her ideas. She's always taken a motherly tone of "here's another perspective.... what do you think?" She's also been accepting of others' comments. She allows all sides of the adoption triad (and anyone else on the fringes) to share and comment. I find that very refreshing as, more and more, I've noticed that should you post on a blog and not agree with the blogger 100%, you will most likely be deleted or bashed by the blogger and his/her readers. I often find myself thinking 'then why ask for comments?' Or better yet – ‘just go password protected.’ That way only your minions will comment and you'll be sure that they all agree with you.

I explain the above situation because it seems that this sweet woman is now considering closing her blog down. Why, you ask? Well, as I see it (and since it's my blog I get to have my opinion on that), she now thinks she may nothing left to say because someone within the adoption world thinks adoption is a bad thing.... at all times..... at all costs. This other writer posed questions / statements that sound more like a dogma for a new religion than anything else. My sweet blogger friend has been left so conflicted by this anti-adoption writer that she's now starting to doubt her place in this world. (TOTALLY MY OPINION.)

Now - situation number two: I spent Friday evening with DH, a co-worker (M) and her husband. We'd planned to meet at a local bar for happy hour to have a TGIF beer. This is a regular happening in my office but DH and I rarely go. After the hellacious week I'd had, I decided this would be the Friday we would go. So, we arrive at the bar and are having a lovely time. Suddenly, M's daughter and SIL show up. It's a college town and they are recent college graduates. So we invite them to join us and they join in the various conversations at the table. I'll skip the various dramas and recap quickly: SIL spends most of the evening giving hand signals to his wife to be quiet and even, at several points, tells her to 'shut up' and 'quit interrupting.' SIL refers to M as being a drunk, being afraid of her own MIL and informs her that children don't have any obligation to their families just because they are related 'by an accident of genetics.' Now, DH and I are floored by the behavior and try not to look quite so shocked b/c we're thinking, ‘This must be their dynamic. Everyone here is an adult.’ I truly don't want to insult my friend b/c well, at heart I'm a Southerner and we just aren't raised that way. So we try to continue various conversations and pick topics not so controversial / confrontational. No dice. SIL continues making ugly hurtful remarks left and right. Somehow, the conversation turns to that of Katrina victims in Mississippi. If you haven't been keeping up, please refer to previous posts to understand why this topic might hold significance to me. Caught up? Good.

So while trying to explain how victims on the coast are feeling, I am informed by SIL, "none of those people deserve a dime." (Let me add that he is VERY much aware of my past / present situation.) I stop for a moment and look directly at him. I say, "You're serious. You really don't think they deserve any assistance." To which he says "No, not from the government, not from the insurance companies." For the first time in my more than thirty years, I was speechless. I then try to explain to him how many people were misled about their insurance policies. I am then schooled on the fact that NO insurance policies would EVER cover flood and / or damage like that of a hurricane and that "those people" should have "read their policies." Again, I continue to be floored. I, like an idiot, attempt to explain personal experiences of friends and family who are currently living through the aftermath. (Yes, I said CURRENTLY and it's been 13 months since landfall). Again, he's absolutely unmoved. If anything, he's exasperated that I don't understand how he's right about this. Everyone else at the table remains silent. No words of defense. No attempt to end the hurtful comments and condescension in his voice. I get nothing. DH happens to be at the bar paying the tab during this lovely bit of interchange. While I'm trying to recount these personal tales I realize that there are tears streaming down my face. I'm not drunk. (I'd had two beers and a full dinner over the course of 3 1/2 hours.) I'm not out of control. I realize I'm simply enraged and saddened. I'm thinking of the thousands of people whose lives are still ruined. I'm thinking of my own family members still waiting in FEMA trailers for assistance that was promised. These same family members who paid on insurance policies for more than 20 years and were promised by an agent "you’re covered for it all." Yeah, no check came. No help came. They're still waiting. And as I'm talking I realize this 22 year old boy will NEVER understand the pain and suffering I'm trying to explain to him. No matter how long I talk, it will do no good. He doesn’t care and he doesn’t want to. It means nothing to him. I'm saddened. And I'm silenced. Once DH returns to the table, I look at him with tears in my eyes and tell him it's time to go. I say nothing to M or the rest of the table. I simply walk out of the bar and head straight for our car. I cried for more than an hour after we got home. I cried for the more than 1800 dead, my friends, my family, my memories, my neighborhood. No words; just tears.

The connection between my two situations: Why is that the words of one casually known person can actually silence the voice of another person? Why do we do that to one another? Is it so hard to show compassion? What is the harm is standing back for a moment and allowing that someone else can have another point of view because they have their own unique experience of this world? That's not to say that you have to agree with or accept that view point. It would just be nice if more would be willing to believe we've all got a voice. Silencing someone else doesn’t make you right. It just makes them silenced.

My only regret is that I allowed myself to be silenced. I'm angry with myself for not challenging my tablemates to speak up and speak out, knowing they too shared my thoughts but they were too afraid to speak up. And to my blogger friend, I hope that she doesn't allow herself to be silenced. It serves no one to be silenced when we've all got so many beautiful things to say.

It's a match!

2006-09-25T20:20:00.000-06:00

We received word today that our DNA testing was completed and it's a match! With this step completed, we are now in the process of setting up a visit trip. I can't believe that in just a few weeks I will meet my son !!

On a bittersweet note, I realize that this means his birthmother has signed off again on his relinquishment. She had to be present for the DNA testing. Often this is the first time the birthmother has seen her child since the birth or maybe a few days after. Once again, I can't imagine how she must have felt or how she is still feeling. I continue to wish her nothing but peace in her decision. I have no idea what circumstance brought her to this decision. I won't second guess her. I only wish her peace and comfort and hope that, at some point, she can know how loved her son truly is and will be.

So tonight, I'm once again elated and saddened at the same time. After more than a decade of waiting, just a few more weeks and I will hold this precious little man!

Adoption news!!!

2006-09-19T20:00:00.000-06:00

I just returned from a really crappy business trip this evening. I brought along the laptop, but of course the "high speed internet connection" promised by my crappy hotel was a complete bust. No email? No blogs? WHHHAAAATTTT??? So I had to resort to reading a book. For shame!

Upon my return to civilization, I logged on to check out what was going on in the blogosphere... and my email inbox. To my surprise (and joy!), I found a bunch of pictures of my little man courtesy the agency! He is still a chubby bunch of love with a head full of hair. Hubby and I were all smiles to have this unexpected happy. He's so beautiful and looks to be healthy.

About an hour after finding this bit of good news the phone rings. It was our agency. We've got DNA authorization!!!!!!! For those in the know, one of the steps in the process for our adoption is authorization from the U.S. Embassy for DNA to be taken of the birthmother and child. It's one of those nifty little steps that ensures the birthmother is relinquishing her own child. Sadly, it's often the first time she has seen the child since his/her birth. I can't imagine what her state of mind must be at this point. I can only wish her peace in this life altering decision.

For us, although somewhat bittersweet, we are thrilled beyond belief to have this next step down. Once the testing is done and the results are confirmed, we will be planning to take a visit trip to Guatemala. Just think...... in about a month I could be holding my son for the first time. I'm absolutely stunned!

What a wonderful way to end today!

Q and A

2006-09-12T18:33:00.000-06:00

I realized that sometimes blogs just have random information. There doesn’t always need to be some major, heart-stopping event to share. I’d like to rant about work right now but honestly I’m too freakin’ tired to go into it. I do promise to share more on my current employment site because….. IT SUCKS.

But in the interest of saving my current mental health, fragile as it may be, I thought I would be kind enough to answer some questions. You see, there have been a few very, VERY kind people who have taken the time to drop by, read the blog and even COMMENT ! What wonderful people you are! It makes me happy to know that maybe, just maybe, people are interested in what’s going on in my life. So, on to the questions:

Art Sweet asked:
1. Why are you living somewhere you don't like (so am I)? Where SHOULD home be for you?

Glad that you asked. I’m not sure exactly where I should be living. If you notice a previous post, you will see what was left of my beloved house previously located in Biloxi, Mississippi. Alas, she is no more. No house insurance, no flood insurance, no government money – ZIP. Don’t believe the hype. Not every person who suffered due to Katrina is now buying season tickets and pouring Dom Perignon in their dog’s water dish. Some of us ended up with JACK SQUAT. (And before you ask, no, the government – aka you, the tax payer - is NOT funding my international adoption. My daddy is. Sometimes fathers can fix their daughter’s broken hearts; sometimes they can’t. My daddy decided his retirement was worth fixing my broken heart.)

So, I am now living somewhere else as my dearly beloved is currently in law school. He lives here, ergo I live here. I can’t even begin to tell my dear readers how much this city sucks ass. (Although, I promise to enlighten in further posts.) Suffice it to say, I don’t like living here and I can’t wait to leave.

2. Why Guatemala?

I won’t be kitschy and say “because that’s where my son is” although it’s what I tell strangers. As a fellow Guatemama, I know that you asked for a reason. I think we chose Guatemala for a variety of reasons. Here are but a few:
· Hispanic culture: Both hubby and I have ties to Hispanic culture through our extended family. Mexico, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, to name a few countries our family members share ancestry from. In essence, our son won’t feel out of place surrounded by his cousins.
· Process: We liked the adoption process in Guatemala. We both have serious issues with government involvement in most things. We liked the fact that the adoption process is a private matter between the adoptive parents and the birth mother through an attorney. Also, to be fair, it’s a short timeline when compared to other countries.
· Foster care: Babies in Guatemala generally remain in foster care in a family rather than in an orphanage. I am very familiar with developmental delays as that is the field in which I work. The fewer our son develops, the better for his long-term health.
· Travel: Selfish, yes, but honest. Neither one of us could afford (financially, physically, academically) to be out of country for weeks on end. The fact that the trips to Guatemala are short in duration makes this whole process possible. Maybe in the future this won’t be a factor, but for now, that’s our reality.

3. What kinds of blog set-up questions do you have?

I haven’t managed to put a big list together just yet. I’d like to begin adding some cute graphics, etc. that might let me readers know what ideas/issues interest me. (A rainbow flag or banner reading “THE ONLY BUSH I TRUST IS MY OWN” on the blog makes a pretty powerful statement without having to write a lot of explanation, don’t cha think?) Obviously I don’t think many are reading so text is probably fine for now. But I do like shiny things.

Oh, and how to make a list of the blogs I read that will post here somewhere on a permanent basis. There are so many creative people that I read daily and I’d love to share the love. (Is that politically correct? Or am I supposed to ask permission to do that? I always wonder that.)

4. Why "hopeful step-mom"?

Wow – this girl is perceptive! I’m sure I will get around to explaining the current stepmother situation that I now find myself in. To answer in short: I am stepmother to two wonderful boys, who are 14 and 12, respectively. They live in Europe with their biological mother. She is a waste of carbon. One of the boys lives in the care of the state in a foster home. The other still lives at home with her and “roommate” du jour. I hate the situation they are in and I / we are powerless to change it at the present time. That being said, my hope is that one day I will have the chance to be a positive force in their lives on a regular basis. Even more so, I hope that one day they may actually come to love me. Until then, I can be hopeful for them and their future. There’s so much more to this saga and I’m sure it will make a lovely set of posts to explain. Of course, that is if I have any readers who actually want to know the story…… time will tell.

Thanks for playing Q and A!

Awestruck

2006-09-05T18:37:00.000-06:00

The FedEx package arrived at 9:30am, 9/01/06. My dearly beloved called me at work to announce its arrival. I dropped what I was doing and rushed home…. only 1.5 miles one-way. (Yeah for working lclose to home!) He had waited to open the package until I got home. Together, we pulled out the pictures of our beautiful baby boy. Yes, I know all parents think their child is beautiful. I, however, generally think that most babies are hideous. (Sorry, they just are – all wrinkled and squirmish looking. They remind me of aliens.) But this little boy was breathtaking!! Our little boy!

We took out the video and rushed to the bedroom to watch. (The VCR is in the bedroom.) There he was… wiggling on his little Winnie-the-Pooh blanket. He had the hiccups, poor thing, but he just silently wiggled. He tried to move his legs when he was on his stomach, as if to get up. He was only three weeks old and already trying to run around! We were surprised at how big he was. By Guatemalan standards, he’s pretty big. We both commented on his long feet and strong legs. (I see soccer player in his future!)

I have to admit I expected to burst into tears. I expected to be hysterical. Strangely, I simply felt calm. My thoughts were, “Okay – there he is.” I’ve been waiting all of my adult life for him to arrive. Shouldn’t I be jumping up and down, freaking out, screaming like a banshee? Apparently not. This was it. Quiet awe at the television screen.

We’ve formally accepted his referral and now the wait begins. We’ve done everything we can on our end. We now wait for the Guatemalan government to approve the adoption and make it final. I don’t know what kinds of updates we’ll get and how much time will elapse between them. Right now, I’m just hoping the wait isn’t too long. The first step in the adoption process in Guatemala, more or less, is the DNA testing. Hopefully that will be completed in the next few weeks. Obviously I’ll update when I can. For now, I’ll spend time staring at the few pictures I have and re-watching the three-minute video clip of MY son.

Chance of a lifetime

2006-08-31T20:28:00.000-06:00

I can’t believe I’m writing these words as soon as I am:

I’M GOING TO BE A MOM

Our agency called today and we have a referral. He was born 8/8/06 which means he’s already three weeks old! They are sending us the whole package tomorrow - pictures, video, history, medicals, etc. I've been told I'm supposed to sleep tonight - but I doubt I will sleep another night until he's safe in my arms.

I have to admit that instead of feeling totally over-the-moon the whole time, I feel sad, too. I HATE that my happiness can only come at the expense of someone else’s sadness. All I can think about his birthmother and how she is feeling right now. I want to call her or write her and tell her that he will be okay. I want to tell her that I’m so thankful and humbled and honored for this opportunity. I want to tell her that her son … our son…. will be so loved during his lifetime and will never want for a material thing. I want to tell her I’m sorry that she couldn’t raise her son. I don’t know the circumstances that brought her to this decision. It’s not really my business. I can only hope that she is at peace, as best she can be, with this decision. I want to tell her that I will do everything I can to make sure this child knows he was so loved by this woman that she made such a heartwrenching decision. I want her to know that I will help him locate her in the future if he would like. I want to tell her she will always have a special place in our lives and in our hearts.

I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I don’t feel guilty for my place in this world. I feel lucky and honored. Tomorrow, after a 12-year journey to become a mother, I will finally see my son’s face for the first time. My broken heart is finally on the mend. At the same time, a woman on the other side of the hemisphere is trying to start putting her life back together while her heart breaks a little more.

Biloxi

2006-08-29T18:22:00.000-06:00

I felt like I should write something about Katrina. Everyone else is doing it and there’s more than enough pain to go around. I’m so tired of hearing stories from reporters with no clue. It truly is a matter of – "if ya weren’t there, ya don’t know." I’d like to jump on the bandwagon of those from the old neighborhood complaining about why New Orleans is getting all the press when Katrina didn’t destroy that city. (The levees failed. The government failed. Bureaucracy and poor planning won. THAT’S what destroyed New Orleans. On the night of 8/29/05, the city of New Orleans was okay. My neighborhood? It was gone.) But like I said, there’s more than enough pain to go around. I promised I wouldn’t continue that diatribe. Not today. Today is a time to mourn. More than 1800 people died in at least five states. You can’t fathom that kind of loss of life. The bulk of the bodies in my county were pulled from my side of town. Death has a smell….. the kind you can’t get clean.

I tried putting my feelings about today into words, but my words just ramble. I’m not a good enough writer to do any of it justice. So I posted the picture above. That's what was left of my house, taken Labor Day weekend 2005. It was Saturday after the storm before I was able to see the damage myself. That, my friends, is what a wall of water 28 feet high does to a structure. In case you were wondering, a marble coffee table, a few outdoor garden statues and a few china plates were all that we salvaged. A lifetime of memories destroyed.

I thought I might share what I miss the most about my former life. Here’s a snapshot:
· sitting on my front porch, enjoying a drink, watching the world go by
· the rock garden I built all by myself in my front yard
· my pictures, all of my pictures, 31 years worth of pictures
· my job where I worked for seven years that I had to leave because I had no place to live
· my friends who understood what it was like because they lived through it too
· my family because they are now a world away

I can’t begin to explain what was lost a year ago today. Sure, we can rebuild the physical structures and replace many of the lost “things.” But the community, the neighborhood, the soul of my hometown, is gone forever. It can’t be rebuilt because the people aren’t there. They don’t have the means to do it.

Whatever your thoughts on this disaster, take a minute to remember those who lost their loved ones, their communities, their security, their innocence. It’s been a year and we’re not over it.

To those who were there, I share this: Don’t worry, friend. We don’t HAVE to be over it. Ever.

Matter of Perspective

2006-08-20T12:55:00.000-06:00

I think all life is a matter or perspective.

I suffer from infertility. I use the word suffer on purpose. It’s an agonizing prospect of my life and one that I’ll never get over. So when I hear a woman say, “I’m pregnant again” and sound annoyed, I want to scream, “Then use a condom, you whore!!!!!!” But I don’t. I just keep walking through Wal*Mart (because that’s where all the pregnant whores seem to shop…..). The point is that she didn’t mean to be offensive. That’s her take on reality because that is how things work in her world. (Have sex – get pregnant.) In my world, having sex does not equal pregnant. Oh yeah…. and pregnant does not equal live baby…. twice. In my world, no one should complain about being pregnant. Those who do should instantly have a miscarriage. But I’m working very hard to change this perspective. (It’s an ongoing process, so bear with me if we have some setbacks in judgment from time to time.)

For me, infertility is painful. I don’t think that I will ever “get over it.” I have learned to accept that adoption doesn’t cure infertility. It only cures being childless. These are two different issues. I can’t honestly say that I’m still hurt that my husband and I may never have a living biological child together. His eyes, my mouth, his height, my feet. I mourn this loss in a real way on a constant basis. I understand that adoption will not make that pain go away.

Adoption does, however, allow me to focus my energies in a more positive manner. It gives me the chance to be a mother. I am acutely aware that this chance comes only out of the pain of another woman. I wish this wasn’t the case. I could tell myself that she never wanted this baby and is thrilled that she doesn’t have to raise him. But the reality is that she probably desperately wanted to keep this child and, for whatever reason…. poverty…. her age…..the circumstances of his conception,…… whatever the case, it just wasn’t possible. So now, I am being given the opportunity to raise this little boy. Thank you just doesn’t seem to cut it.

There has been MUCH debate recently on the adoption/ adoptee blogs I read with regard to adoptive parent guilt, acknowledging birthmother pain, etc. I will say that I had very strong reactions at first and wrote several scathing blog entries. But I chose to wait and seriously think about what I wanted to write. I’ve read many enlightened posts from various sources. I haven’t agreed with everything I’ve read but I welcome the chance to see more than one point of view. (What’s the point of writing only to be read by those who agree with you? Who learns anything that way?) The overriding sentiment that I come away with from reading these posts is that perception truly IS reality. (I know – no brainer there, huh?) We all come to the table with the sum total of our experiences. Of course our filters are set in a specific way. But the general populace appears to be unwilling to admit this.

Why is that birthmothers and adoptive mothers appear at odds? At what point did we become enemies? I feel like I’m watching the Springer show. Picture two women fighting over the jerk in the middle. I’m always thinking, “Why aren’t they beating the hell out of him and then going out for a drink together?” I can’t help but think both moms in the adoption triad should find the middle ground – the children – and work from there. In my case, I won’t ever be able to sit at the proverbial table with my son’s birthmother. Funny that I’m her biggest fan and most loyal supporter and we’ve never even met. More’s the pity…… but, I am trying to mentally prepare for the questions he may some day ask. Even more so, I’m trying to prepare for the questions everyone else may ask. Maybe I'll start asking some of my own.....

Intro to me

2006-08-17T19:40:00.000-06:00

So I’m trying my hand at this blogging thing. For some time now I’ve been reading the blogs of others. Being a “lurker,” as I’ve learned we’re called, I’ve been able to enter the lives of hundreds of people I would have otherwise never been able to “meet.” Some of the posts I’ve read have angered me beyond belief. Others have moved me to tears. Many have been the fodder for conversations between the hubby and myself. As time went on, I realized that I often have a lot to say. Opinionated is often a word I hear used to describe me. I’d like to think I have something to offer to the online community….. so what the hell – here goes.

I should start by saying that I don’t know a THING about creating web pages. I have no idea how to add cute little pictures and emoticons everywhere. I see lots of creative little things all over others’ blogs and think, “I’d love to do that.” Sadly, I just don’t have the knowledge to do it just yet. Maybe I can learn. If you’ve got advice, please pass it along. Knowledge is power, right?

I’m trying to think of this blog as a diary of sorts. I’ll write down whatever is on my mind at that moment. If someone happens along and reads it, great. If they decide to leave a comment, even better. Hopefully I won’t offend too many people. I probably will. For that, let me apologize now. It’s not my intention to cause pain to others. I really just feel like it would be nice to have an outlet for the myriad of ideas that float around my head on a daily basis. And I’m not real knowledgeable on “blog etiquette,” so if I make a faux pas, please let me know… but gently please. I tend to bruise easily.

I truly hope no one in the “real world” finds this or figures out who I am. If that happens I’d like to say now – please don’t out me. Just keep it to yourself. Sometimes a girl just needs a place where everybody knows her name…. and well, Cheers closed years ago.

Over time I will most likely begin writing my biography here. Not in a self-inflated kind of way. Just more that I’m hoping someday, somebody might find it important to know what I was thinking at this point in my life. Some people find me interesting. Some even find me entertaining. Maybe you’ll be one of those people.

As for the name of the blog – “Kewl Beans” is a phrase that I’ve said as far back as I can remember. I honestly don’t know when I started saying it or where it came from. I’m sure it’s from an ‘80’s movie. If you think you know, feel free to pass along the info. I’d be interested to have another piece of my puzzle completed. The blog, just like me, is a work in progress.

So stop by the Kewl Beans Place, pull up a chair, grab a drink and join our lunacy!