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.

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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.

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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.