An evening in, with speculations

So, what do parents of an almost two year old do on New Year's Eve?  Well, so far they put the boy to bed, each find a computer, and spend awhile looking around the internets for items of interest.  When that gets old they'll watch a movie or two while enjoying some fine boxed wine, and when the ball finally drops perhaps they'll have a piece of New Year Birthday Cake washed down with cheap champagne, and call it a night.  It's not a glamorous life, but we like it just fine.  And just so you know, we had options.  We could have gone out...we even had an offer to babysit...but we just didn't feel like it.  Staying in felt cozy and good after a week of running around and endless visiting.
While strolling about the Internet this fine evening, I happened across the USCIS website (what, you don't regularly check out US Immigration and Naturalization Services' website?  You're sooo out of the loop!).  While there I checked to see what dates the Albany suboffice is processing  through for I-600 applications...if you'll remember, that is our application for Emma's VISA.  September 14, 2006, is the current date they are processing.  When I checked a few weeks ago they were processing through August 14th, which leads me to believe that they take about a month to process a month's worth of applications, and they are currently 3 months behind.  This is not necessarily a happy deduction, as we did not apply for the I-600 until November 4.  If my calculations and speculations are correct, this means that we will not have VISA approval until maybe the beginning of February. 
With Harrison's adoption we applied for the I-600 on 4/21/05, received approval on 6/11/05, and he arrived  on 7/26/05.  That's 21 days from I-600 application to approval, and then another 45 days until his arrival, bringing the whole process to about 66 days.  Now, if I am right that the USCIS is roughly three months behind in their work, and working with the idea that they will not catch up (c'mon, this is a government. bureaucracy we're talking about) then if we get her VISA approval on February 4 that will have been 93 days since we applied for it.  If she follows Harry's lead and arrives 45 days after VISA approval that means she might be home on March 21, the vernal equinox.  That is 80 days from now. 
Of course, all of this is subject to a million influences, including but not limited to: US government bureaucracies, Korean government agencies, Korean adoption agencies, our adoption agency, etc.  This fancy math makes me realize that I have to stop focusing my energy and hope on a February arrival.  It's most likely not going to happen, and even March is a long shot.  April is much more likely.  In April Emma will be 8 months old.  We were so hoping to have her home by six months of age, when attachment and bonding are still issues, but less so.  I was hoping to once again have an infant (or rather, have one for the first time...new readers probably don't realize that 5.5 month old Harry arrived crawling at full throttle, cruising along furniture, and eating solids).  Whenever she makes her debut, Emma will be loved and cherished and adored by all of us...but it really wouldn't be so bad for her to arrive early, would it?
Enough speculation already.  Have a happy New Year.  Be safe, and enjoy whatever merry traditions you choose to partake of.  See you in '07.

Accident Prone

Happy Holidays, from our house to yours! 
In lieu of the lovely 'thankful for our blessings' post I had planned for Christmas this year, which somehow fell off my to-do list, I present you with "Holiday Blunders and Fun, 2006".
On Christmas Eve, whilst the Sullivan Humans were enjoying festivities away from home, the Sullivan Canines were busily eating the Christmas presents we had so carefully laid out to be wrapped.  We arrived home, our hearts full of cheer and our arms full of sleepy toddler, to a house strewn with soggy bits of wrapping detritus, a beheaded bird ornament, partially chewed spice jars, and a paring knife with suspiciously arranged tooth marks.  It was Christmas Eve, the stores were closed, and our pups were looking quite sheepish.  So we put the boy to bed, picked up the mess, and in a moment of true Christmas spirit we did not kill our dogs.  Instead we dug their crates out of the dark corners of our basement, set them up in our bedroom, and decided we need to go back to square one with their training.  If you can't teach an old dog new tricks, let's hope you can refresh an old dog's memory of the house rules. 
We had a lovely Christmas, and it was a joy to see Harrison opening the gifts we had so carefully chosen for him.  Santa was downplayed, and judging by the oohs and ahhhs he emitted Harrison really appreciated each bit of wrapping, each pretty bow, each cardboard box, and, of course, each toy.  After our leisurely morning at home we were off to visit Harry's three sets of Grandparents where he was equally spoiled.  He had the chance to play with cousins Casey and Brian, who were very entertaining and allowed Brendan and I to relax as they chased Little Mr. Busy around. 
On Thursday, after much research and consideration, we decided to return my new digital camera that Brendan had given me for Christmas (mostly due to its sluggishness in taking pictures).  I gathered up the packaging for the camera, and remembered to delete the photos I had taken on the camera's internal memory.  As I watched it deleting I realized it was taking too long, then realized that the memory card (from our other camera) was in it, and that I had just deleted ALL of our Christmas photos.  I am not a technological genius by any means, and this proves it.
Later that day Brendan's brother, Mike, came over with his kids Maggie and Quinn.  Harry loves seeing them, and after lunch and an hour of play we settled the kids down for a movie, rather than try to get them to nap.  During the movie I snuck out to visit my Grandmother and help her with a few things.  I climbed into our new car, backed out of our garage as usual, and promptly smashed into my brother-in-law's car.  Yeah.  The worst part is that when I got out to check for damage I didn't see any, so I continued on to Grandma's, returning later in the day to confess my boo boo.  Only then did Mike and Brendan go out to look at the cars and discovered the smashed tail light and small dent in Mike's car.  To his credit, Mike was very gracious and let me off the hook with minimal teasing.
Today we had a babysitter for four hours.  Four Hours!!! Brendan and I started to work on some projects we've been meaning to get to.  Brendan ripped up and replaced treads and risers on our basement stairs, and I began painting our bedroom.  From the very first stroke of my paintbrush the color looked perfect.  It is exactly the right shade, it was covering well (maybe I won't have to do a dreaded second coat) and things were generally serendipitous.  That is, until I misstepped on my way down the ladder,started to fall, and tried to catch myself by jumping to the floor with my right foot, which landed in the paint bucket, which flew into the air and landed in my lap covering me from the thighs down with paint, which then gushed onto the carpet and drop cloth.  And for about the thousandth time since we bought it I thanked the heavens that we own a steam vacuum. 
With three days of vacation left I am wondering what other calamity might befall us.  If nothing else, it keeps life interesting.  I hope your holidays were as lovely as ours, if less accidental.

Say cheese: Outtakes

You may be thinking that in the whirl of excitement that Emma brought we have entirely forgotten to take pictures of our wee lad.  This is not the case.  I have oodles of pictures...of the back of his head, his feet running out of the frame, and his hands over his face.  He is almost two, you know, and at almost two children do not quite hold still anymore. 
 
From these photos you can see that he has finally grown some hair...in fact it needs to be cut. 
How do I capture such lovely out-takes?  I ask Harrison to smile and say cheese.  He shouts cheese, smiles and ducks out of the way of the offending camera, only the back of his head or his feet left for the taking. 



Once in awhile Harrison stops moving long enough to look at the camera straight on and we get a great shot of him.   Here are a few from the past month or two:

The waiting game

The process of international adoption is just that, a PROCESS.  While it has profound and beautiful moments, it doesn't really come with a lot of frills and romance.  It does come with a lot of paperwork, appointments, notarizations, and overnight mailings.  It comes with a lot of unknowns and a lot of waiting.  It is not for the impatient, faint of heart, or hopelessly emotional.   It takes strength, trust, the ability to cling to hope, and an optimistic outlook. 
We're at what I consider to be the hardest part of the adoption process. We're waiting.  And waiting.  And.  Waiting.  We don't know when our baby will come home and we don't know when we'll get more news about her.  We know she's out there.  We've seen her lovely face and toes and hands, and we know she is receiving good care from people who no doubt love her very much.  We just don't know any more than that.
And that fact, the fact that we know no more, slowly eats away at me. 
I am a list maker.  I make all kinds of lists of things to do, things to read, things to see, and things to get.  I love the first parts of adoption, where there is a clear goal and a list of tasks to take me from Point A to Point B.  Fill out applications...check!  Notarize documents...check!  Send family photos...check!  Accept referral of beautiful baby girl...check!
But now, when I most need it, there is no list.  Nothing to do, nothing to check off.  Nothing I can physically do to get her any closer to us.  Everything we need to do is complete, and the remaining tasks are in the hands of impartial bureaucracies who have a million other things to do.
This is also the stage of the process when people start to ask more about news of Emma.  And while we love that they ask, because it makes it clear to us that she holds a place in their thoughts and hearts, it also gets very hard to repeat for the hundredth time "No, no news.  We probably won't have any until her travel call".  I liken it to someone being lost at sea...the case is highly publicized and it would be all over the news if any changes had come to the case, but you still feel the need to ask the family "Have you heard anything?"  So if you do see us and you ask us about Emma, don't feel badly if our faces fall just a little as we respond.  It's not that we're sad, or that we've lost hope.  It's just that this process that is adoption leaves us hanging just a little at this stage. 
And suddenly in just months, we'll get a phone call that will put us into the fast-forward mode, and it will be all over the (figurative) news that our baby is on her way. 

The waiting is the hardest part.

What you didn't know about your tree

On the news this morning I watched as a Christmas tree went up in flames and torched a living room in 6 seconds.  6.  Seconds.  No time to react, no time to reach for the fire extinguisher, barely time to gather the kids/pets and get the heck out.  I pass this on to you as a public service announcement.  Turn off your tree lights at night, make sure you check the water regularly, and for goodness' sake turn off the lights when you leave the house. 
Also of interesting note in the news piece about trees was the danger in artificial trees with metallic accent (foil needles).  You should not use electrical lights on this type of tree, experts warn, because the entire tree (or at least its metallic parts) could become electrically charged.  Please, let's not electrocute ourselves this Christmas.  This is for you, C & B. 

Bah...hurry up

Where are you Christmas?  Why can't I find you?
The Christmas spirit is eluding me this year.  I know I should be enjoying Harry's second holiday season...baking cookies, singing carols, watching the snow fall, and shopping with a perpetual smile and a feeling of goodwill in my heart.  But for some reason it just isn't happening for me.  Bah. 
Don't get me wrong - I have been doing plenty of shopping, complete with impulse buys of things we absolutely do not need.  I have made my lists and checked them 24,000 times.  In fact, I am almost done with my shopping.  So that can't be it.
As for the cookie baking, Brendan and I are having a weight loss challenge and I'm not going to blow it by making yummy treats so that I can sit here all day and feel them staring me down, calling to me in their saccharine little voices.  He has it easy, as far as I am concerned, as he sits at a desk in the middle of nowhere all day, while I am at home or shopping with a world of food at my fingertips.  Self control, thou art not mine.
I have been listening to carols.  Jingle bells, old Saint Nick, deck the halls and all of that.  Still not feeling the cheer.  On a side note, however, Harrison thinks it is super fun when Mom breaks into song along with the carols, and he gives me standing ovations, complete with enthusiastic clapping.  And for the first time in a year and a half I am wondering if he should have his hearing checked.
Do you want to know the real reasons for the noncheer?  Brendan has been stuck working long shifts (10 hour days that become 12 hour days when you add in his commute), seven days a week.  He will have this weekend off, but after that it's back to the hell schedule until Christmas.  I know we're lucky that he has a good job, and I am ever-so-thankful for the overtime pay as it will greatly help with our adoption costs.  BUT.  I am also having a panic attack every day at around 4:00p.pm., wondering how the heck I'll make it through the next two hours as Harrison repeats until he cries "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy...:  It breaks my heart, it breaks Brendan's heart, and if I am being completely honest it hurts just a little bit that he never chants for me.  But why would he?  I am glued to him 24/7.  (breathe in, breathe out...mental note to self - make plans to take a class or something!)
The other, more encompassing reason is that I just want the holidays to be over with so that it can be 2007 and our daughter can travel.  I know I shouldn't wish time away, but if you have never had to wait for a baby, who you know is laughing and cooing and growing up in someone else's arms, then you have never experienced this particular brand of hell.  It is not fun.  It makes me nervous, anxious, and impatient like nothing else in life.  It is like looking through a lens that is out of focus.  When we waited for Harry it was the same; the world was a very blurry place until he was handed to us, and then it was as though someone turned the lens and it all became clear.  We're back in the blur right now, and I want to be seeing clearly in the worst way.  Bear with me, as I try to bear with myself.
Oh, and worry not that Harrison isn't going to have a good Christmas because of my mood.  He's going to be spoiled silly, and there will be magic and cheer as needed when the time comes.  We're getting our tree this weekend.  Nothing says Peace on Earth like executing an evergreen.  I'm rotten.  Sorry.

What's that you say?

Harrison is quite suddenly a chatterbox.  Much like a mocking bird, he follows me around all day repeating little snippets of my conversations.  As he says more and more his pronunciation is improving, but let's just say it's not quite clear yet.  Most people listening to him have no idea what he's saying, but as his mom and #1 companion (sorry B, it's only based on amount of hours spent together) I can understand more than the naked ear hears.  Following are some funny mispronunciations:
Peace out = pees out (we're potty training, of course)
Knowing = snowing
Emma and Elmo are interchangeable...I think H thinks he's getting an Elmo, rather than a little sister named Emma.  I see rude awakenings in your future, my son.
All trucks, snowblowers, helicopters, and lawn mowers are grouped into the category fondly referred to as "tractor".
The monkey formerly known as Curious George now goes simply by "Curious" in this household. 
Whim = swim
Moo = milk (how very appropriate, don't you think?)

Is that thunder?

Yes, indeed.  There is an electrical storm going on outside my window, on this first day of December.  The lights, they are flickering and I am hoping that we don't lose power as the temperature has dropped about 50 degrees in the last few hours.  We're supposed to have a nasty wind, lightning, and snow storm this evening, extending until noon tomorrow. 
I must go prepare the candles and Kerosene heaters, just in case.  And try to detach the H man from my legs.

Biometrics

Tomorrow Brendan and I will embark on an adventure to the Latham office of the Department of Homeland Security to have our biometrics taken.  This is another check on the list of things one must do in order to adopt internationally (perhaps domestically as well, but I am unfamiliar with that process), and it means we'll be one step closer to having our daughter come home.  In fact, it's the last thing WE have to do, but we'll have to wait for other parties to complete their jobs.

What are biometrics, you ask?  Although it sounds somewhat interesting and exciting, it is really a fancy word for fingerprints.  The fingerprints are used for a background check in which they make sure we have no history of felony or child abuse.  Once we're cleared and approved USCIS (US Citizenship and Immigration Services) will issue a visa for Emma, which she'll use to enter this country.

Sitting in the DHS office is an interesting experience.  The last time we went (for Harry's visa) was eye opening.  We walked through metal detectors to get in the door, and then an officer used a wand (much like at the airport) to go over our bodies in more detail.  The officer wore a gun.  They're not messing around...serious faces, direct orders, and uncomfortable chairs abound.  We sat near the window, facing the rest of the room, and people watched for the hour it took them to call our names.  We saw people of all nationalities and languages, all with different reasons for waiting in the same room, the same stiff-backed chairs.  And once again it struck me as odd that many people in the world claim we're different based on race, or skin color, or any other bit of minutia they feel supports their opinion, when in fact we were a group of humans sitting in the late morning sunshine of a dirty window, waiting for bureaucracy to decide when and if our families can unite, or become legal citizens, or immigrate.  And for the first time in my life I felt a little taste of what it must be like to come to this country as an immigrant, to jump through the proverbial hoops in order to carve out an existence in the hopes that it will be a better life than whatever you left.  How scary to be faced with armed men, metal detectors, and stern faces.  How brave one must be to take that leap of faith.

I look forward to seeing the palette of faces and nationalities tomorrow, and to checking off another item on our list.  And to being one step closer to our daughter whose image haunts my dreams.

A blogger I knew and loved...

...is on her way back to the internet!  Woo hoo!!

When Brendan and I first started our infertility testing an old friend sent me a link to this blog (thanks, Steph).  As I read through her posts I realized that I wasn't alone, that I could make it through to the other side of this thing that seemed larger than life, and that there was a whole support network on the internet at my fingertips whenever I needed it.

And now she's coming back, and I am beyond excited to see what she has to say about motherhood and pretty much anything else.  Did I mention she's a talented and fabulous writer?  She is.  Without further ado, I give you the link to my beloved Soper, at Uterine Wars.  Happy reading!

I am slowly going crazy

Our household is abuzz with the anticipatory excitement that word of a new baby brings, and I am having trouble keeping my hands busy enough to take my mind off the fact that my new daughter is thousands of miles away.  The result?  I have morphed into a pseudo-Martha Stewart, sans annoying habit of saying "it's a good thing" but with vastly less impressive culinary skills.  I have knitted one and a half sweaters, I have sewed my first wrap-style baby carrier, and I have purchased and pieced my first ever quilt.  I have painted her room, and made her bed, and rearranged the furniture in said room no less than 5 times.  It's only the middle of November.  What in the world am I going to do for the next four or more months?????

In which I admit I am no good at wordpress, I try out live livewriter,and I try once again to post pictures of Emma

It pays to have friends who know what they are doing when it comes to Internet technology, especially when you happen to be particularly challenged in that area.  Our friend Tony is keeping me as informed as he can, but I think I'm a tough case...it all goes in one ear and out the other.  When I started my weblog last November (OMG it's been almost a year!) using blogger it was easy...it's simple, simple, simple, and made for idiots like me who need buttons that magically do everything for you.  I learned a little along the way, and eventually realized that simple, simple, simple does not allow for much wiggle room when it comes to doing fun things with your weblog.  Hence the move to Wordpress, and my ensuing bafflement.

So this is my first livewriter post, which Tony says will help with the bafflement, and here (hopefully) are the pictures of the baby girl:

Some people will tell you that waiting for a second child to come home is easier because you have one child to keep you busy.  Reporting from Day Three of The Wait, I can assure you this has not been my experience thus far.  I am busy with Harrison, but amidst the Cheerio fetching, goodnight kisses, Dr. Seuss reading, and endless driving of toy cars over the furniture, my mind is swimming with thoughts of Emma.  I have dreamed of her two nights in a row...once of her in Korea, in her foster family's house, and once of her being home, playing with Harry...in each she was smiling and happy and I had the overwhelming feeling of contentedness.  I wonder what she'll like, what colors will look good on her, what size clothes I should buy, will she be afraid of Riley and Charlotte, will she take soy or cow's formula, will she double in size by the time she comes home like Harry did, or will she be a little peanut?

And this I know for sure:  The time will creep by achingly slow, to the point that I will almost convince myself that she's never coming, and then all of the sudden The Call will be imminent, mere days away, and it will feel like only days have passed since we first held her sweet picture in our hands.  There is a time warp when it comes to adoption...you get sucked into some kind of black hole where time never moves, and then you're suddenly spit out into a new reality with a wriggling baby, no sleep, and a million smiles that make your cheek muscles ache. The anticipation is awful and wonderful at once, but I know that four months or so from now it will seem like the blink of an eye.

Big News!!!!

I am perhaps one of the most negligent writers you know, but this time I have an excellent reason:













 Her name is Lee, Hee Seon.  Hee means happy, and Seon (pronounced 'sun') means good.

This beautiful girl is going to be our daughter!  She was born August 24 and weighed in at 6.4 lbs.  At her October 6th well baby checkup she weighed 8.6 lbs.  She is healthy, strong, and alert.  And did I mention beautiful?  We are reeling with joy and excitement!

 

When we applied for a second child with our adoption agency last month, we never in a million years thought we'd have a referral so soon.  We expected to wait until at least July of 2007 for a referral, with the baby possibly coming home at the end of the summer.  When our agency director called to let us know she had a refrral for us I nearly fainted!  We cannot wait to bring Hee Seon home...if all goes well she should arrive in February or March of 2007.



Have you ever seen such cute hair?  It sticks straight up!  And is it just me, or does she seem to have as much hair as Harrison already?  And those toes!  And her little fists!  She looks so long and slender, but I have to remember that she's not even two months old in these photos.  It is amazing how quickly you can become attached to a face in a photograph.  When I close my eyes I can picture her perfectly...I have studied every centimeter of each photo, as I will for the next four or more months, soaking in each detail and memorizing each wisp of hair, the curve of her chin, and every little wrinkle on her ankles.

 Harry already anwers "Emma" when you ask him what his baby sister's name is, and he loves looking at her pictures.  We're positively giddy right now.  Pinch us.  Is this for real?

MonkeyBug

Harrison's new favorite word.  I think he has maybe watched the Curious George movie a few too many times, no?  His favorite scene?  When George (monkey) eats a firefly (bug) and his mouth turns green and glowy.

Glad you could make it!

So, here we are in a new space.  What do you think?  Actually, don't answer that because I still have a lot of work to do here, or rather Tony does.  We need to add in a title at the top, I need to work on categories and such, and there is much tweaking to be done.

Enough of the boring details...here's a fun update of strange/interesting things that have happened in the past few weeks during my absence, for your enjoyment:

1.  Harry learned some of his letters, which seems normal, only we haven't really been trying very hard to teach him the ABCs.  So which one of you snuck in during the night to teach him L, A, K, R, and B?  Time to fess up...

2.  My hairdryer caught on fire while I was drying my hair.  Not the blower part, the plug part.   A fireball shot out and there was a popping noise, which we now know was the outlet blowing.  Brendan replaced it and we've got ourselves a new hairdryer for the first time in, well, since we got married.  More truthfully, since Brendan was in either college or high school, becasue it was his hair dryer from his single days.  Makes me wonder what other old electronics should be tossed/replaced before we have more fireballs shooting out of them.  For those of you wondering, my hair escaped unscathed.

3.  We sent in the bulk of our paperwork for adoption #2.  We need to send another packet of papers soon, with our letters of recommendation and tax returns, but we are well on our way to updating our homestudy and....waiting....waiting....and waiting some more for a referral.  It's going to be a long process this time, but a child is worth the wait.

 4.  Harry became somewhat lactose intolerant and is now drinking unsweetened soy milk.  We're still giving him cheese and other dairy, but any regular cow's milk makes things very...messy, shall we say. 

5.  I received the Holiday 2006 Heifer International catalog in the mail yesterday, and at first I thought it was some kind of bad joke.  But to the contrary it is a very cool organization that strives to end world poverty and hunger by providing farm animals to the poor around the world.  Check it out: Heifer International I just might buy you a cow or some chickens for Christmas this year!

6.  Brooke and I took Harry apple picking for the first time, and he was so funny.  He had an apple in each hand, was standing in front of a bag full of apples, and jumped up and down chanting "APLLE APPLE APPLE".  I think he might like apple picking...just a hunch.  I made a pie last night with the apples we picked and it was scrumptious...it tasted even better because I could imagine him in the orchard, grinning from ear to ear, on one of the sunniest and prettiest afternoons we've had this autumn.

And I leave you with photos:

     

The Autumnal Itch

The autumnal equinox has come and gone, and suddenly the leaves are colorful and falling with each slight breeze. There is a certain energy in the air that is specific to this time of year. Outside of my window chipmunks and squirrels are hastily gathering acorns from our oak trees and burrowing them away in my flower beds in preparation for winter's chill. Watching them race around the yard makes me feel like tackling projects, or at least having another cup of coffee...

The fall does make me antsy, truthfully. Suddenly the remaining white walls in my house seem to itch for color, the yard seems to beseech me for new planty adornments, and I feel the need to discover some unknown (to me) new place...to travel and be somewhere different. It's something like having the spring cleaning bug, only in the fall. I think the feeling of unrest stems from our former tendency to move each autumn. We began our Tour of New England by buying a house just before Thanksgiving, which we sold one exact year later. You know the score: lather, rinse, repeat. And since I've been helping prepare my grandmother's house for sale (it went on the market yesterday, for those interested) I have many of the feelings associated with the fall move.

So, how does one scratch the proverbial itch? The B and I are tackling some new projects, planning some interesting outings, and we've begun a major life change. Here's the list:

1. The fact that we're not in the market for a new house does not mean we cannot peruse the market of new houses. If you live in the greater Saratoga Springs area you should check out the Showcase of Homes this weekend or next. Twenty dollars will get you through the doors, rooms, and grounds of nine amazing houses, all of which have been professionally decorated and landscaped. I'll let you in on a little secret: this is where we get many of our best decorating ideas. My bathroom is painted Brown Paper Bag after John Witt's 2004 Showcase home's living room. It's good fun, and you never know who you'll run into. You might even run into us! If you have a wee one I recommend a backpack or sling of some sort, as strollers aren't allowed.

2. The backyard needs a facelift, and we're going to need to rent some machinery to complete it. We think we'll need a bobcat to rectify the grading issues the backyard currently suffers from. We're only working within the new fenced in area. Once the grading is under control we can start to define different areas back there, and plant some clover and grass. Why clover, you ask? We have just about the crappiest soil that new construction can buy you in New York...it's a mixture of sand, sand, and sand, plus a few killer cicada wasps to boot. Grass just won't survive because the soil is so devoid of nutrients, so clover is our organic answer. Clover will grow in just about anything, and while most plants deplete the ground of nitrogen, clover is one of the only groundcovers that pulls free nitrogen out of the air and replaces it in the soil. Clover is more drought resistant than grass, so it requires less watering, which in turn keeps us from using more than our fair share of the world's water. And, it has pretty flowers that keep Max the Bunny happy! Go clover! We also use a mulching lower to disperse little clover bits and pieces, thus building up the organic content of our topsoil. It's going to take a couple of years to be really pretty, but once the soil is a little better we can plant grass seed, which will grow within the clover and create a more solid turf. So now you know. Sorry about the tangent.

3. I started a new business venture, selling kitchen goods at home shows. (I'm actually not legally allowed to promote my business here, per the company in question, so you'll have to either use your imagination or call me for details) It all started with the prospect of getting two really nice knives for free, and it's turning out to be something fun that will allow me to have adult conversation now and then. Need kitchen gadgets? Holiday gifts? Wedding shower gift ideas? I'm your gal.

4. The adoptive families group we started with friends last year, Capital Region Heart and Seoul, is becoming active again after a summer off. We're looking forward to seeing old friends, meeting their new babes, and perhaps adding some new members. If you or someone you know has a child who was born in Korea who might like to hang out with us, send me an e-mail.

5. There has been a flutter of paperwork activity at our kitchen table this week, in the form of adoption applications. Yes, you did read that correctly. We're in the very beginning stages, and this time it's all going to be very different from our experience with Harrison. As I mentioned before, Korea is changing their international adoption policies, so in a way we're heading into a sea of unknowns, but we trust our agency and we feel we're in good hands. Check back for a post about our anticipaited wait times, our requests, and the breakdown of the process.

In a nutshell, that's our fall schedule. Really, do check out the Showcase...did I mention it benefits Habitat for Humanity? Good fun for a good cause can't be beat. I'm off to chase down that aforementioned cup of joe. Happy fall!

The Last Days of Summer

After a sleep deprived week of Brendan working nights we're enjoying a four day weekend together. The sun finally came out this afternoon, breaking a week's worth of wet weather, and in a flash of spontaneity we headed to the beach for an hour. We're lucky to have a good, sandy beach just 1.5 miles from our house, on a lovely little lake within a state park. Well, it's lovely this time of year, but in the summer it is inundated with tourists and campers and busloads of summer camp kids, which make it no less lovely yet somewhat less enjoyable. But right now, in these last weeks of summer, it is a tranquil retreat from the confines of our house.

The afternoon was perfect...the leaves are just starting to show their autumn color, and when backlit by the late afternoon sunshine they seemed glow. The water was smooth, rippled only by the canoes, ducks, and kayaks that gracefully cut its surface, and then again by Harrison's feet as he ran at the water's edge, surprised that after a month away from his beloved water we had stripped him down and let him loose. He was delighted with the feel of the sand and mud on his baby skin, and shrieked with joy when we ran with him at the edge of the water ( a stern voice having announced over the loudspeaker to another group that swimming is no longer allowed because the lifegaurds are done for the season) holding tight to his hand lest he decide to turn into the deep and splash away from us altogether.

We didn't stay long. It was getting to be dinner time, and Harry looked sleepy despite the fun. Sometimes I think our shortest jaunts are the most fun, as we don't have time to get frustrated with chasing him around, or with the lack of beach blanket and towels, or with the dreaded black flies that seem to constantly swirl in the air around our heads when we're outside. But for an hour this afternoon we escaped the normal and stole back a little crumb of summer, and it was divine.

When you ask Harrison to smile, this is what you get

Two more babies! And Coco!

Pictures of Coco are here!!! Isn't he just the cutest darned thing? I love the ear fuzzies, and the tough guy stance. He is just adorable, and loves to snuggle underneath your chin. Brooke is smitten, and I think she made a good choice of character with him.

It has been a September for babies of all kinds!

Our friends, the Wests, have welcomed their baby girl to the world this week, and we can't wait to meet her! She was 8lbs, 9oz, and 21 (?) inches long. I hear she's very pretty...the proud papa was walking the family dog around the neighborhood this afternoon, and I have to say he was positively glowing. He didn't even look all that tired, which amazes me because when Harry came home I was too exhasuted to think straight. So heartfelt congratulations to the West family on their newest addition!

We also have a new puppy friend to meet ASAP, this one a baby beagle girl named Lindy, belonging to my friend Liz's parents. I am looking forward to being reminded of how small Charlotte was when we brought her home.

Bittersweet September

Seven years ago today the air was warm, the sun shone brightly on the leaves that were just starting to reveal their fall color, and the air smelled like it does every September in upstate NY: a spicy mixture of late summer flowers, falling leaves, and apples.

Seven years ago today I looked through the open church doors, past the pews filled with our family and friends to the altar where my beloved Brendan waited for me to join him, to spend the rest of my life with him. When I walked down the aisle I wasn't nervous, or jittery, or wondering if I was doing the right thing. Instead I knew, beyond a doubt and for the very first time in my life, that I was doing exactly the right thing. I was bouyant, and I think I floated down the aisle more than walked.

Seven years later life has not disappointed me. I am still bouyant, and even a little giddy at times with the knowledge that Brendan and I belong to one another. If you know him personally you're one of the lucky ones...if not, take my word that he is kind hearted, compassionate, a great friend, and an AMAZING dad. He has a wicked sense of humor, especially compared to his usual reservedness. He is extremely creative, and after seven years of careful grooming I would even say that he has an accomplished sense of adventure. Through our shared life's joys and sorrows he is the one and only person I have wanted to be with, walking side by side. I could not, would not, love another. So Happy 7th Anniversary, my Brendan. I love you.

******

Five years ago Brendan and I lived in Rye, NH, in a little apartment just a mile from the ocean. Our apartment was in a house painted turquoise blue with pink shutters. We had flower beds in front of our windows, and a little stream ran through the backyard.

Five years ago today Brendan and I took the day off to go to the zoo, as I had never been to a zoo before and we thought it would be something fun to do for our second anniversary. The morning was sunny and bright, without a cloud in the sky, and the New Hampshire air smelled more like saltwater than the apples and leaves we were used to in NY. We didn't turn on the tv in the morning, rather we drank our tea and chatted with each other, planning our day in innocent bliss. We finally climbed into the Jeep and started driving up I-95 toward York, Maine, and the much anticipated zoo. As we drove I flipped thruogh the radio stations looking for a good song, but I was irritated that all I could find was news. At some point Brendan yelled "STOP! What did they say? I think we're being bombed!". I think he swerved the Jeep a little, and we listened in horrified silence as the newscaster recounted the morning's events. When we arrived at the zoo Brendan said "Mike works across the street from the Twin Towers. My brother, Mike." And that was the first time I ever saw my husband cry.

We drove away from the zoo without looking back. We rushed home to call Brendan's parents, and when we finally got through we found that they didn't know anything, either. Like the rest of America we turned the tv on and watched the horror, hoping and praying to see Mike's face among the faces on the screen, alive. Hoping and praying that he had made it out, that he would be ok. Like most people I will never forget that day...I remember minute details that should not matter at all, but somehow are emblazoned on my memory: the sun streaming through the window onto the ugly blue utility carpet in defiance of the utter sadness we felt, our landlord clomping by our windows on the wooden sidewalk and shaking his head as he looked at the ground, the deafening quiet on the usually busy street. I'll never forget watching the tears roll down my strong, resilient husband's face as his pain silently seeped from his eyes. There was nothing I could do for him, all I could do was hold him. Never have I felt so helpless and scared, so small.

At some point that day we got the call that Mike had been in contact, that he was ok, and that he was on his way home. We still sat glued to the tv, wanting to look away but unable to. That day will forever be a part of who we are, even though we were hundreds of miles away from ground zero...we became acutely aware that we were among the lucky ones who did not lose a loved one.

*****

Five years later it is quiet in my house. I refuse to watch the president; instead I am having an hour of silence in respect for the dead, and for those who survived but whose lives were destroyed nonetheless. My son is sleeping soundly in his bed, and the dogs' feet are moving in their sleep as they dream of running and playing. Life has gone on, but I remember. Oh, how I wish I could forget.

There's a new baby in town

Ooooooh! (insert happy clapping and big smile) My sister, Brooke, has a new (fur) baby! His name is Cocoa, and he's a four month old long haired chihuahua, and I think she said he's cinnamon colored. I can't wait to meet him!!!! I do so love babies of all kinds!!!

I've spent the last 1/2 hour researching sweater patterns to knit for the little guy as a welcome home present, but the patterns I found all involve fun fur. So I ask you, can a male chihuahua pull off fun fur, or will he just look really unfashionable? What if it's brown or grey fun fur? Does that make it any more/less cheesy?

And Tony, how big is a 4 month old chihuahua puppy, generally speaking?

The mirror image

Do you ever catch an unexpected glimpse of yourself in a mirror or window, and find yourself looking away quickly, and then looking back just as quickly because you are actually startled?

I don't mean those moments we all spend in the morning or before leaving the house when we put our best angles forward for ourselves, pose our faces the way we'd like them to look in photographs, and have our tummies sucked-in for good measure and good self-esteem. Rather, I mean those rare glimpses when we truly see ourselves, perhaps as others see us...hair a mess, belly very obviously not sucked-in, and with random looks on our faces.

This has been happening a lot to me lately, as we've moved Harry's changing table into the bathroom as potty training prep (the idea being that all things related to diapers are also related to going on the potty), and I have to walk past the mirror several times per day to get to the changing table. And I keep seeing myself, or rather this...this ADULT. This adult with a CHILD!

Sometimes I anticipate it, and Harry and I make funny faces at each other, giggle, and proceed with the business at hand. But other times I catch a certain angle and I am struck by how different I look from the 'girl' I see in the mirror each morning.

Sometimes the face I catch in the mirror looks pale, with slightly baggy eyes, eyebrows that droop in a frownish way, and a mouth that is pursed in concentration...and when I see this reflection of (could it be?) me I can't help but think that Harry's mom is a bit of a downer. She should smile more and look more animated, and her face should be a reflection of the love she feels for him.

Sometimes the face I catch looks distracted, like the mind behind it is a million miles away, and I think Harry's mom should live more in the moment...she should be enjoying every minute of time she has with him because already it seems like it is going by too fast.

Sometimes the face I catch looks harried and I think Harry's mom needs a time out.

Sometimes the face I catch is laughing with twinkling eyes, and you can just make out the beginning of crow's feet at the corners of those eyes. There are grooved laugh lines by the rounded cheeks, and a deep dimple in the right cheek. Her hair is a crazy mess, her clothes are splotched with food from the meals of the day and dotted with dog hair, and the toddler in her arms is a giggling, squirming bundle of boy who shouts "Omma!!" into the mirror. When I catch this face I think Harry's mom is doing just fine. This is the face I like to catch because it is the face I imagined I would have someday, the one I focused on when I was hoping to be a mom. This is the face I strive to live up to...the mom who can live through food throwing, temper tantrums, spilled milk, broken furniture, dogs out of control, endless loads of laundry, and day after day of no naps, and still look happy. This mom seems fearless and in control, even without pulling herself together.

I'm working on seeing that reflection more, and those vacant, exhausted, frustrated, and droopy ones less. The thing about catching an unexpected glimpse of yourself in the mirror is it gives you a chance to see the unprepared, unmasked side of yourself. The question is, do you like what you see?

Summer Pictures

At the Washington County Fair, petting the sheep. Harry loved the feel of their wool, and they tolerated his petting very well.



Starting to eat the edge of the copyright page...we should have foreseen what we'd find in his diaper the next day!

Swimming in his new suit with the rubber tube, compliments of Aunt Katie...if you have a toddler who likes the water, you should have one of these. Harry loved his because it gave him some freedom of movement in the water, and we loved it because after an hour of swimming he would actually take one of those long, ever elusive naps!



At the toljabee party, where Harry ate his weight (practically) in penne with vodka sauce...here he is getting ready to go down the slide, all on his own.



And finally, what is summer without an ice cream cone? Here's harry with his first chocolate cone, compliments of my cousin, Christy. We walked along the Feeder Canal that morning with our babies, and rewarded oursleves for the effort with some really yummy ice cream.

The Nap Wars

The funny thing about wanting, striving, and yearning to be a parent is that your brain doesn't always register the potential for unpleasantness that goes along with the job. You want a child, but your dreams of life with that child probably include strolls in the park on sunny days, playing ball in the yard, or even just the bubbly fun of the child's evening bath. When you dream of being a parent, even the idea of teaching your child to tie his/her shoes is grand. I'll admit I fell into this line of thinking...I knew there would be umpleasantness but I refused to allow myself to think about it very much.

Then you become a parent and suddenly your world goes into shock. Aside from the midnight bottle making, red-faced indignant screaming (from the child, or maybe from you if the day is particularly trying), the nasty diapers that make you gag, and the severe lack of sleep, at one time or another you're going to suffer from The Nap Wars. Oh yes, Veteran Parents, you know what I'm talking about.

For the past year my daily life as a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) has revolved around The Nap. It is much like a vicious game of Stratego: Harry and I try to outmanipulate each other, each vying for the best positioning, the most power, and a favorable outcome for ourselves. For me it goes something like this:

If I let him have a morning nap, as he'd like to, he'll only sleep for maybe an hour. And if he hasn't had a bowel movement (BM) yet then I'm done, because he'll only sleep for ten minutes, during which he'll have a BM and then he'll wake up cranky and more tired.

If I try to postpone the nap until after his morning BM, Harry will hold it beyond what is a reasonable amount of time, and then he'll be extra cranky and tired. I'll finally give in and let him nap; he'll only sleep for ten minutes, during which he'll have that BM, and wake up cranky and even more tired.

I could try to run errands in the morning and hope for a nice, long afternoon nap, but Harry will fall asleep in the car when we hit the highway, sleep for ten minutes, and will have to be woken once we reach our first destination. He'll be cranky during our outing, and I'll ask myself why I didn't just let him have the stupid morning nap he seems to love.

If I make it through the errands without this happening, Harry will fall asleep on the way home. This is where it gets really tricky. Do I leave him in the car once we get home and let him get whatever sleep he can? Or do I try to manuever him into his bed, in hopes that once the transfer is made he'll take a lengthy nap?

Or maybe we'll skip the errands and the morning nap, as we have done today, and play outside in the sunshine and fresh air, in hopes that H will get extra super tired. But then when I put him down for a nap it takes him 1/2 hour to fall asleep, and he wakes up 1/2 hour later.
Yes, this is what my life has become, a never ending game of Stratego over The Nap. So when you see me out and about and I can only put three words together in a lame effort to form a sentence, you'll know it's because I am trying to figure out a new and improved method of getting my child to sleep. Because I NEED that break so that I can take a stroll on a sunny afternoon, or be cheerful about the bubbles that coat the bathroom tile each evening and later need to be sponged up.

And what are Harry's tactics?

The Surprise BM, which brings The Nap to a close every time.
The "I'm sound asleep in your arms until you dare to set me down" which wears us out and makes us a little crazy.
The hiccup cry, which tells us that not only is he enraged, but we've damaged a little part of his soul forever by making him take a nap.
The very strategic roll over and fall out of bed, followed by the hiccup cry.
The "I'll sit in here, as quiet as can be, and you'll think I'm asleep. In fact, you'll come in to wake me hours later, only to find I have not been sleeping, rather I have eaten the copyright page from my book, which will surface in my Surprise BM tomorrow".
And finally, there's the knocking coming from the inside of his room, and a very angry shout of "OUT!", which we try to ignore, but makes us laugh every time.

So, Prospective Parents, beware: the children are armed with manipulative powers, and incredible wit. They'll win very time, hands down.

Continued education and a quick catch up

When I was in high school and first learning to race in alpine skiing, my mother told me that if I wanted to be a better skier I should ski with people who were better skiers than me. She was right. Skiing with those more advanced in skill, I was forced to push through my confort zones, forced to be faster, sharper, and more on top of my game. (I also got hurt more, but that's beside the point).

I think my mother's advice rings true for all sorts of things in life, and with that in mind I have been using my time away to surround myself (figuratively) with people who know more, do more, and have something more to say about it all. I have been reading the blogs of some adult Korean adoptess and I find myself humbled by the number of things I never even considered before, and since, Harry came home. I've been reading the blogs of some birthmothers and I am again humbled by their experiences and emotions. All of this in an effort to not screw up this amazingly difficult job that is parenting, and to make sure that Harry knows the value of his culture, the value of his story, and the value of his first parents.

So I am spending a lot of time thinking, learning, and reconstructing my views (and also getting a little hurt because it's not easy material to read, but it is important nonetheless). At some point I am going to post about the things I've learned, confess my mistakes, and hopefully move forward with a continued desire to do better. I am a firm believer in the idea that when we know better, we do better.

******

For those following Grandma's health, things took a turn for the worse last week. She developed a mild bout of pneumonia (can it be deemed mild when one has emphysema?) and spent four days intubated in the ICU. Through it all she was alert and demanding...she had a pad of paper and scribbled questions, requests, and funny comments to us. The tube came out yesterday and she has been moved out of the ICU to a regular room...she looks better, but still has quite a hacking cough. We're keeping our fingers crossed that her body is as optimistic as her attitude.

******

Brendan was on vacation this past week...we didn't go anywhere or do anything spectacular, but we enjoyed the peace and quiet just the same. We hired a fence company to fence in the newly expanded backyard, which should happen in about three weeks. We researched pools and poo, companies for a hopeful installation in the spring. We watched A TON of movies in the basement theater. We caught up with some friends we haven't seen in awhile (Hey, T!) who scolded me for not updating my blog. We went to a toljabee celebration for our friends' newly arrived daughter and got to see some of our friends from that social circle. Harry got his first (mildly) skinned knee, and has started talking a bit more. And I took him to the Washington County Fair, where he was not afraid of the huge cows, but rather tried to kiss one on its gigantic nose when it reached down to sniff him. And best of all, we got Harry's passport in the mail from our adoption agency, the one he entered the country with, and we were reminded once again of the amazing set of events that placed him in our arms.

Feeling better, so....

I thought you might enjoy seeing the before (actually they had already started cutting, but I forgot to take a 'before' shot) and after pictures of our backyard:




That is the left hand corner of the deck in the bottom right of the photos...we've opened the yard up to let in sunlight and to allow better viewing of those majestic oak trees (of which you can only see one in the picture). It looks HUGE to us out there right now, and I may very well spend the rest of my summers here mowing the lawn, but the quality of light in our house has vastly improved and I can visualize how to use our outdoor spaces now.

And what fun it was to watch! The men cutting the trees were amazingly skilled at figuring our which direction a tree would fall, and they only had an 'almost' once, as in they had one tree that started falling toward the garage but they stopped it by holding it up until that yellow vehicle (first photo) came in and saved the day by pushing the tree away from the house. After that I had less fun watching, but it was still amazing how quickly and easily they took care of 40+ trees.

Oh, and Grandma is recovering from her surgery nicely, but she'd like you all to know that the rumors about hospital food are true. She very serioulsy told my mom today that her family is full of such good cooks that she's been utterly spoiled until now! Note to self: bring food upon next visit.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you thisbulletin:

Where do I begin?

Friday's move of Grandma (and a few of her belongings) into her retirement community went well. Her apartment is beautiful! With views of mountains and fields which will be gorgeous this fall, and the western exposure of the windows makes for amazing sunsets. She will indeed be happy there once she's settled in.*

Saturday's major move also went well. We ran ahead of schedule and were able to move almost all of the things she wants there, and we unpacked it all, too. Her furniture looks great in the space, and we were again impressed with the quality of light and the great views. I ended the day especially pleased that Grandma seemed happy and relaxed for the first time in weeks. All of this activity and her inability to help due to her emphysema has had her frustrated and anxiety ridden for weeks, so it was good to see her smile easily yesterday afternoon.

Today around noon I got the call that Grandma had fallen out of bed last night (thank God my Aunt B stayed with her!!!) and fractured her hip. She was rushed to the ER, and now awaits surgery tomorrow. I was a wreck all day because I didn't really know how well she was doing, and all of the people in the know were by her side, making sure she was receiving the very best care. The good news is she is ok, and the break wasn't as bad as it could have been. She will have three pins inserted into her hip bone and will have to be in rehab for a minimum of six weeks until her bones fuse back together. But while she's in rehab we're going to try to get her into a pulmonary rehab program as well, which would be AMAZING! If she could learn how to live with her disease, and learn ways in which to control it through breathing exercises, posture, and slower movement it would be incredible. When a door closes, a window opens, I guess. I am going to see her tomorrow before her surgery, which leads me to my next order of business, which is as follows:

Lately I've been feeling like my life is getting out of control. With Grandma in the hospital, and her house due to go on the market in three weeks there is major work to be done, and I need to take some of the pressure off my mom. I am also about two months behind on housework (don't ask) and I NEED to scrub this place from top to bottom. I have about twenty projects in some degree of 'close to finished' that I want to complete, once and for all. We're also preparing to head into a second adoption, and with the aforementioned changes to Korea's program we need to research our options so that we are armed with knowledge before we make any moves. My dogs need to go to obedience school before I permanently lock them out of the house (kidding, I would never do that). Our backyard is about to lose the 40+ trees that Brendan has marked for death, and we're going to have to make some semblance of order back there before the snow flies again...rest assured this will not entirely deforest our lot, but rather will open up the backyard for a pool, a play area for H, and a better doggie run area. Oh, and did I mention that I need to get some sleep? 'Cause, you know, toddlers are extremely tiring little beings!

So I'm going on a break and I'll be back sometime later, when life holds more order, when I feel more in control. I may post now and again when I get the time, but it's going to be sparse...er, more sparse than usual.

When I do come back, whenever that may be, some necessary changes will be made the SF News...we're looking into password protection which will require a move, and you're going to need to let me know how to reach you if you want to keep reading. So e-mail me (rileyandcharlotte@yahoo.com) or leave your e-mail in the comments. And let me know who you are so I don't think you're a stalker or something.

Farewell for now. Send healing thoughts to my Gram, and check back once in awhile if you wish.

*It will obviously be awhile before she is able to get settled in...October at the earliest.

A smile for you, and the winds of change

SMILE...IT"S FRIDAY!!!!!



The H Man and I are having breakfast. Yes, he still loves those Cheerios. You'd think he'd be bored after almost a year of having them most, if not every, day but he still chomps them down happily. I wonder why Cheerios are the official snack of toddlers?

So, there are some big changes coming to the world of Korean adoption. Read this. The adoption boards are abuzz with the news and with people in panic mode...quite understandably. My heart goes out to those families that are waiting on a referral, or on their homestudy, or who are even just thinking about Korea for their adoption. This throws quite a wrench in the gears. It's hard not to panic when the dreams you have created (for many of us after years and years of devastating infertility) are suddenly in the uncertain hands of a foreign government that is undergoing a change in policy. I think as Korean adoptive parents we felt exempt from the usual uncertainties of international adoption...the program was deemed 'safe' by many for its predictability, its history of stability, and its consistency in delivering healthy infants to families around the world. Our hearts and minds cajoled us into thinking we didn't have to worry about program changes and slow downs, but if I think back to our homestudy visits a year and a half ago, our agency did mention an undercurrent of changes to come. So now those changes are indeed taking place, and we wait to see how it will all work itself out.

So what does this mean for our little family? We were planning to start a second adoption this year, and I think we'll still do that. We'll talk to our agency and see what they've heard, and we'll trust their judgement. They only handle Korean adoptions, so if Korea closes its doors for awhile (worst case scenario in my mind) we'll look into other countries and figure out what our next best option is.

I am trying to focus on the bigger picture, of the change as a good thing for the children of Korea and it really IS good. If the debilitating social stigma attached to being a child born out of wedlock or a mother who gives birth out of wedlock is changed within Korea that is a good thing. If domestic adoption increases for girls and boys in Korea, that is certainly a good thing. I am trying to look at it all as a citizen of the world, not just as a hopeful adoptive parent who might have to wait longer than anticipated to have another child. It is scary and a little devastating because, like so many others, we banked on predictability, stability, consistency, and history in growing our family. So we wait and watch, again.

Best wishes to those currently in the program...I sincerely hope that these changes don't keep you from your dreams of becoming parents, whether it's the first, second, or third time around.

The end of an era

My 86 year old Grandma, Frances, is about to move out of her home of the last 53 years, during the hottest week of the summer, and she has emphysema. Oy! It's a good move for her as she'll be headed into an assisted living facility on her own terms, where she can have the levels of care she needs now and in the future, whatever that may hold. She is nervous and excited at once but seems overall to be in good spirits.

I am the one who is having trouble with her moving. I can't stop thinking about what it means to leave your home of 53 years. This is the home where she raised her five daughters, where she travelled through time from a young bride to an old woman, where she said goodbye to her husband as his mind was lost to Alzheimer's, and where she has now watched her great grandson play in the same yard where her own babies once toddled. This is the house my grandfather, Hans, designed and built using stone, brick, and other materials found locally, but with design elements borrowed from Frank Lloyd Wright and desert Native Americans. This is the house where both of them created works of art; my grandmother made pottery, weaved, and was a talented quilter, knitter, and embroiderer, and my grandfather was a sculptor and an innovator in general (he built a catamaran, and he started a ski center). Although Grandma claims she's not a sentimental type, I keep wondering how it feels to sift through a lifetime of seemingly insignificant objects in an effort to choose which ones to keep, which ones to give away to a special family member, and which ones to discard. She has a story for every single thing in that house, and she can tell you with amazing accuracy who gave her what, with details including where that person was working at that time, and what his/her children and grandchildren are doing today. She has a brain like a card catalogue; it lists the ways in which each person is connected to the next, a huge web of the people she has known and the life she has led.

What will I miss? I'll miss bounding up the steps to the front terrace, seeing her head of pure white hair through the picture windows of the kitchen, and calling out to her (Hi Gram!) so as not to startle her when I swing open the door. She always looks up quickly to see who has come calling, and her wide, bright grin upon seeing me has always made my heart sing with the knowledge that I am someone special to her. I'll miss sitting on the high marble hearth of the grand stone fireplace in front of a crackling fire, as Brendan and I often did when we lived there for six months while waiting for our own home to be built. I'll miss days spent by the swimming pool, practicing backward dives and swimming laps. Harrison will miss this pool, too, as it has become his most favorite hangout of late. I'll miss walking through the living room and seeing my grandfather's sculptures on display, and my great uncle's watercolour paintings on the walls. I'll miss the garage, which is not really a garage but more of a cool summertime hangout, complete with a built-in couch and stone barbecue. I'll miss driving through the stone gateposts, which lend the property a sense of grandeur and serve to separate the house form the street and offer one more layer of privacy in addition to the mature birch and oak trees that line the driveway and front yard. I'll miss stepping into the cool basement where my grandfather's woodworking shop was, and where after 13 years of him being gone his suspenders still hang on a nail next to his workbench. And if you look very closely, you can make out the shape of his old leather shoes beneath a barstool, where they rest under a layer of sawdust and woodchips. I'll miss it all, you see, because I love that house, that home. I love the people who lived within those walls, and the woman who still does live there, for tonight at least.

Tomorrow we'll move Grandma to her new apartment, where she'll turn a new page in her life, where she will undoubtedly make many new friends, and where (hopefully) she will live happily and contentedly for as long as Mother Nature allows. Her house will be packed up, refreshed with coats of new paint, and put on the real estate market within a couple of weeks. And hopefully (please cross your fingers and toes) someone will look past the repairs it needs and the quirkiness of it all to embrace the spirit and design of the house. Hopefully, someone will love it just as much, if not more, than we all do, and will become someone else's beloved family home. Nothing would please me more than seeing children playing beneath those old trees, and shouts of laughter coming from the pool.

We taught her how to knit and whistle

An update on the cousins:

Saturday
Casey has been here for one week. It has been unbearably hot and humid, with thunderstorms randomly cruising through the area, and we've been stuck inside sans air conditioning for the better part of the week. So we taught her how to knit and whistle, and this is how we passed the time. Her scarf is almost done, and she can now do a couple of notes with her whistling. Good progress! Oh, and we ate lots of cookies and ice cream, which has not been good.

Teenagers are tough. One minute cheerful and chatty, the next sitting on the couch looking as though she might die of boredom. I hope she hasn't hated her week here, but with Harrison in tow it was not an action filled adventure. Or rather, it was, but not the type of adventure that teenagers normally associate with FUN. Is it different when they're your own kids? Can you just tell them to snap out of it? I suppose time will tell.

Sunday
We swapped kids last night and now we have Brian again. He is the opposite of Casey in that he is all about the conversation. He'll talk endlessly about anything and everything, and so far there have been no sullen periods spent on the couch staring at the wall. He and Brendan are bonding over our CD collection, and Brian will go home with some 'new' tunes for his ipod...old tunes he has just discovered, and we're surprised at his diverse tastes.

As for me, I am exhausted. I am not used to having people (aside from Harry and Brendan) around all of the time, every waking moment. I feel as though I would need to sleep all day, all night, and all of tomorrow before I'd feel like myself again. In think Harry is with me on this, as he has a serious case of the Grumps again, and has not been eating anything but grapes. He is either too distracted, or he's teething, or he's just out of sorts from the extra people in our home. At any rate we'll get a break starting this afternoon, as both kids head to Grandma and Grandpa Sullivan's with their mom for the rest of their visit. And as tiring as it has been I will miss them both, and I have had fun. I liked vicariously revisiting the ages of 13 and 15...both strange ages as one stands on the cusp of adulthood but is not quite removed from childhood. I enjoyed their opinions and ideas, and I think they are growing up to be grand, interesting people.

One year ago...

...almost exactly to the minute, Brendan and I were sitting on a bench in the hallway of the International Terminal of JFK Airport, trembling together, as we waited for our son to come through immigration. Our son. Our son! How nervous we were, how excited! His plane landed at 3:15 pm, earlier than expected. At roughly 4:08 pm our lovely greeter, Marge, placed a wriggly bundle of boy in my arms, and our family was made.

Happy one year, Harrison! We love you very, very, very much!

The Cousins, they tire him out!

You will never believe this! After a month of very short (if any) naps, Harrison slept for a total of six hours yesterday, divided over two naps! YAHHOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Harry's cousins Brian and Casey are visiting and all of the extra attention is making Harry a tired boy. And apparently his mama gets pretty tired too, because she fell asleep last night in the beginning of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and snored out loud. Ahem. That's just a little bit embarrassing, no?

And that's final!

Certificate of Adoption

I, (Woman on a power trip), clerk of the family court of Saratoga County, do hereby certify that I have inspected the records of this court and find that:

AN ORDER OF ADOPTION was signed on the 19th day of July, 2006, by Hon. Courtenay W. Hall, Judge of the Family Court of the County of Saratoga, granting the petition of Sara Sullivan and Brendan Sullivan, adoptive parents of a child now known as Harrison (middle names excluded for privacy) Sullivan who was born at Pyongtaek, Kyonggi-do, Korea on the 13th day of February, 2005.

Signed, Woman on a power trip, a.k.a. Saratoga County Clerk
That's it, he is ours. He belongs to us, and we belong to him, officially.

I didn't think the day would be very emotional for me. After all, the moment he was placed in my arms at JFK airport I knew in a very primal sort of way that he was my child. Since that moment those feelings have grown stronger and stronger, and I didn't think I needed a piece of paper to tell me what my heart already knew for sure. But yesterday, after our 15 minutes in court, I found myself blinking back happy tears at random points during the day. I'd catch the glint of sun in Harrison's eyes, the swirl of his hair above his right temple, or the bottoms of his feet dirty from running through the yard, and I would feel my heart swell and my eyes fill. He is ours. Those are the three most delicious, most significant, most beautiful words in the English Language today. He is ours.

And we are his.

For those wondering, he did not wear his grumpy pants yesterday. He was smiling and happy and very active. He was thrilled to have most of his grandparents in one place, and he liked all of the recording equipment used in the courtroom. And the judge was funny, which put us at ease. After the extraordinarily ridiculous hoops we had to jump through to get to that point the actual proceeding went very smoothly, and our attorney seemed somewhat competant.

What is next? Birth certificates, citizenship certificates, and social security cards, oh my!

Wearing his Grumpy Pants

Harrison is in a bad mood streak. He wakes up grumpy, throws tantrums, hates to take a nap, wants to be held except he doesn't actually want you to touch him while you hold him, and is generally hard to pacify lately. Bored? Dunno. Too hot? Perhaps. Going through a phase? Goodness, I hope so!

Tomorrow is our big finalization day. Could the stars and planets please align in my favor and keep him from screaming through the event? It would be so appreciated. Must go now and soothe the screaming boy. Sigh. It's too hot out for this.

Waterbaby

During college I spent a semester at Western Washington University (with the National Student Exchange program) in lovely Bellingham, WA, just north of Seattle. I had the opprotunity to spend time in Seattle and I fell in love with that city, which is so different from the east coast cities I had known growing up. I have been back to visit a couple of times, and each time I go I find myself sitting next to the International Fountain at the Seattle Center, a leftover from the World's Fair. The fountain is a masterpiece in my mind. It consists of a huge, crater-like dish of cement with half of a metal ball in the middle; water shoots out of the ball and from jets embedded in the cement in time to music that comes from speakers around the crater's edge. It is hard not to sit and watch as people of all kinds and ages play in the water, dancing, squealing, and laughing as they chase the water. The spray shifts and dances in the wind and catches the light, making the children look ethereal and often creating rainbows in its mist. When I think of Seattle I think of this fountain, of sitting and watching as simple streams of water change cement and metal into something magical.

Like his mom, Harrison loves a fountain. Only his beloved fountain is located in nearby Saratoga, and although it is not as grand as the International Fountain, it still delivers the same sort of magic to our favorite wee one. We spent the Fourth of July watching streams of water shoot through the air, rather than fireworks (we worried the latter might scare the little H man) and Harry's joy was palpable. He danced and laughed, ran around the circle of cement with glee, and stuck his head directly into the spray. He loves the water so!





And although I have no story of magic for you about the following photo, we took Harrison to the local beach and he enjoyed that as well. He thinks he knows how to swim (he's wrong) and has no fear about plunging himself into the water headfirst, especially after watching the bigger kids splashing and swimming. I think the majority of this summer will be spent with water of some sort close by!

Independence Day

We are at the beginning of the weekend that marks my favorite holiday, Independence Day, better known in my household as the Fourth of July. There are many reasons to love the Fourth, and here are mine:

1. I don't have to buy anyone a present. Easier on my budget means I can enjoy the day with less stress.

2. I don't have to send a card. I am not a big fan of the so-called "Hallmark Holidays" which guilt us into spending several dollars per card per person for seemingly any and every holiday...St. Patrick's Day, Halloween, Easter, Christmas, etc. Before Harrison I made my own cards in a small protest, but now I haven't got as much free time.

3. There are no mandatory or obligatory family gatherings to attend, which means our time is our own. Brendan and I both have large families, and we both love our families, which means that most of our holidays are actually spent traveling between the homes of our loved ones. We never get to spend more than an hour or two at each stop and it can become a frustrating marathon, especially now that we have Harrison and all of his gear to lug around, too. On the Fourth we can do whatever we want, whether that means going to the lake for the day, staying home, or just watching a movie, there is no pressure and no timeline. Ahhhhhh.

4. BBQ. Need I say more? Chicken slathered in yummy BBQ sauce, pasta salad with black olives and fresh herbs, potato salad (although mine is never as good as my Dad's), chips and dip, watermelon, strawberry shortcake, homemade lemonade, baked beans, etc. How could I not love a holiday with such a feast attached to it? In my book it beats out Thanksgiving, easily.

5. Fireworks are cool...I love the very idea of shooting flaming rockets into the sky for the sole purpose of watching them explode into myriad colors and shapes. However, my dogs would rather not witness this part of the celebration as it makes them slightly, er, very uncomfortable.

6. Four days of fun! Because the Fourth falls on a Tuesday this year the festivities will encompass the weekend, Monday, and Tuesday...At least they will for us. Unlike the one-day-only pressure of Thanksgiving, Christmas, Mothers and Fathers Days, and Easter, we have four days over which to spread the fun. Yipppeeeeee!

7. I don't have to give out candy or create a super fabulous costume for my (somewhat unwilling) son to wear from house to house. And I don't have to schlep from house to house with said son.

8. The weather has a good chance of being nice, simply because it is July. We're pretty certain it won't snow or sleet, and even if it rains we can have fun indoors without the need for bulky sweaters and wool socks. That, in itself, is good reason to celebrate!

9. There are good sales on anything and everything, which can help us kick start a better-than ever summer! And I do love to shop for deals...

10. It is the birthdate of our country. Although the good 'ole USA has its problems (don't get me started) it was founded on the premise of freedom and liberty for all, and it is the beloved home of my birth. The Fourth reminds me not to take for granted my position in the world. I was lucky to be born here, and I am grateful for all of the opportunities I have been provided just for being a citizen of the United States. To grow up knowing that I could be and do anything I put my mind to is huge, and most women of the world do not have that priviledge. The Fourth reminds me not to be complacent, and it reminds me that we still have a long way to go before our country is all that it can be.

In keeping with the spirit of Independence Day, Harrison decided to free himself of the bars that have been holding him back, namely: his crib. He climbed out this morning and fell on his head (he's fine, although mom was slightly a wreck), and has since refused to stay put in it. I turned it around so the very tall side faces out, but he still tries to scale the rungs. I think he might be related to Spider Man. What do we do now?

Rescheduled

Wednesday, July 19. 8:45 a.m. Confirmed all around. It better not change again, or heads will roll.

A steady stream of expletives...

has been running through my head since I got off the phone with the paralegal at our attorney's office this morning. They need to reschedule the finalization because our attorney had a conflict. I am on the verge of tears due to anger and frustration. So let me lay it all out for you:

Harrison came home on July 26, 2005.

We met with our attorney for the first time on August 17, 2005, in order to get a head start on the paperwork, per instructions from our adoption agency.

We completed all paperwork assigned to us by the attorney, went to our doctors for physicals, and waited the mandatory six months before finalization would be possible. We stayed in touch with our adoption agency and completed all of their requirements for finalization in a timely manner.

When the six month waiting period was complete, our social worker completed her paperwork and sent her consent for finalization to our adoption agency. Our adoption agency sent a copy of that consent to our attorney by the end of February, which should have set the ball rolling to get us to finalization.

And then began the botchedness. The paralegal called in early March (or was it February) and asked us if we would want to finalize at the same time as another family we know whose daughter came home at around the same time. If so, she would "withhold" our paperwork and send it in at the same time as theirs so we might share a finalization court date. Sounded fun, but it was strictly against our agency's policy to delay finalization for any reason, so we declined. The warning bells should have been loud and clear in my head at that point, but in good faith I silenced them.

We didn't hear anything for a few weeks so I called the attorney to check the status of our file, and the paralegal, sounding very frustrated that I had called, told me that their legal secretary had quit, and they were in the process of hiring so all work was on hold. What? Why were we not informed of this? Again I silenced the warning bells, explaining to myself that it was not their fault someone had quit.

Along came the middle of April, and still no word. I called again, and this time our 'trusty' paralegal told me it was time to come in and sign the final paperwork, the petition to adopt. We made an appointment, signed the papers, and were told we were just waiting for a court date.

At the end of April, the paralegal called us and said "oops!" she had forgotten to have us renew our child abuse clearances for New York State, and she'd need to send that to the court. The form would come from our adoption agency. We should fill it out as quickly as possible and then send it back to our adoption agency. They, in turn, would send it on to the state and when the clearances came in they'd send it to our attorney. We followed those directions, and the clearances were back to our attorney within a week or two. Although we were miffed that this very important step had been forgotten by our lawyer, we decided we were too close to finalizing to make a big deal out of it. Again, the warning bells.

At the ned of May we'd heard nothing about a date, so I called again. The paralegal refused to call the court at that time, fearing she would "irritate" the court secretary and further delay our finalization. This time the bells in my head had my full attention. Why was she so afraid of ticking off the court? Do they have a bad relatioship with that court? Is our attorney's reputation getting in the way of our becoming a legal family? I hesitantly agreed to wait until the end of June for them to call the court and check the status of our file.

On June 16th we received a bill from our lawyer, and this put us at the exact dollar amount of the quote they gave us for finalizing. This means that anything else they charge us for will be above what we have budgeted for. Not that we can't pay for it, but I really, really have no use for their "drag it out as long as possible and bill for every minute" policy. I am beyond irritated.

So, it's the end of June. Last Friday I got a call from our adoption agency wondering why in the world it is taking so long for us to finalize, since the gave their consent back in February. I explained as best I could, and then they requested another report about Harrison's progress and warned that if we do not finalize soon we will need to pay for extra post placement visits (at $250.00 each). Shit. I called the useless paralegal again, and she said that she was typing a letter to the court as we spoke requesting a check on the status of our file. The letter would go out on Friday, and she hoped we'd have it scheduled soon. I explained to her, yet again, the urgency of the matter, the pressure we're getting from our agency, and our disappointment that this has not been a speedier transaction.

Tuesday, yesterday, I got that call that made my heart sing. And the paralegal, to her credit, did say that the date was not set in stone. But she also said she did not see any reason why it could not be that date and time, so we should write it on our calendars. Brendan asked for the day off. We started planning a party. And today, Wednesday, useless paralegal calls again, and says there is a scheduling conflict after all. She tries to make it sound like the court should have known our attorney could not schedule anything for that day, but really it is not their job to know the schedules of attorneys. It is the paralegal's job. Then she has the gall to be sarcastically annoyed with me, saying "It's only going to be scheduled a few weeks out, it's not like it's going to be two or three months". Well gee, now I feel better. Stupid useless paralegal.

Yep, a steady stream of expletives. You might not want to talk to me today, as I might just bite your head off in misdirected anger.

Phew!

I woke up this morning and breathed a huge sigh of relief...There is nothing on our calendars for the rest of the summer, and that feels extremely, hugely good. We've been running from activity to task to event all spring, and when I saw that clean calendar I felt the tension in my shoulders ease. Summer is here, and now I can rest.

Then this morning I got another of those pivotal calls that come with adopting from Korea...the call announcing the date of our finalization in court!!! On July 14 Harrison will become our son legally and forever! I cannot tell you how good it will feel to have the adoption decree in hand, signed by a jugde, and to know that we are a legal family. There are no words to describe the happiness I will feel that day.

Pictures above are from last week, when Harry and Daddy were walking about the yard.

Motivation: Zero

Projects in limbo:

-basement...finish paint, put up trim, install doors, etc.
-vegetable garden
-guest bedroom
-garage sale preparation
-mudroom overhaul
-bookshelves for loft
-slipcover living room pillows
-landscape road frontage
-grass for the backyard this decade???

Motivation: Zero

I think the rain is making us sluggish and pathetic. It is 8:19 a.m. I already had a cup of tea and a cup of coffee, and I feel I could use about ten more cups to get myself moving. I know the rain is a wonderful thing, especially after the particularly dry (no snow) winter we had, but c'mon...would one day of bright sunshine hurt?

The Greater Sullivan Family (aunts, uncles, siblings, nieces & nephews, oh my!) is descending upon our area this weekend, and we will be quite busy, I expect. Add to list above: clean house. Ok, I've got to get out of this chair and start my day. Poo.