I already get quite a few stories about how this lady's nephew adopted two darling little Chinese girls and that guy's sister adopted a son from Korea (oh but he's 35 now). Those are okay. It pleases me that people feel comfortable blurting out these adoption experiences to me, a complete stranger. It gives me a sense of how very, very common adoption is in our society. We tend to assume it's not very common at all, that our families will stand out, but I get a stranger coming up to me to talk about their family's adopted member(s) at least once a week. Sometimes more.
I think for now it's important to be friendly and open. These people aren't trying to intrude on my privacy. They're making a connection with me, and they want me to know about that connection. That's cool.
Sometimes it's not so cool. Today a man came up to me and, in the course of conversation, decided he wanted to discuss China's occupation of Tibet. Now he's sorry. And I gave him the light, humorous version of my well-read understanding of history and current events.
Just because I'm female doesn't mean I don't read history! I could have overwhelmed him with a thoroughly informative lecture, but I didn't. Mother Bear has a sense of mercy.
(For the record, I brought up Hawaii as a comparison. It was a random choice. The US has been guilty of a large number of genocidal atrocities. That doesn't mean I condone the occupation of Tibet; it means I refuse to be a hypocrite and praise our own culture while condemning China's, which was what this guy was doing. I love American culture. I love China's culture. Both nations have done horrible things to other peoples.)
(Fortunately, Maoism didn't enter the conversation. That would've been a whole new can of wyrms.)
(Ultimately, my point is that my kid can almost understand functional English, so if you're going to give him an impromptu political history lesson, make sure it passes his mama's standards for fairness and accuracy.)
The other encounter was with a woman who wanted to tell me all about her daughter adopted from Korea. The daughter had been severely underweight and badly treated at the orphanage and the doctors thought she would suffer lifelong problems. However, she beat the odds enough to be living independently now and hold a job.
That one wasn't annoying. It was poignant and touching. It was just a little awkward. If AwesomeCloud had understood every word, he might have found the implications unpleasant to think about.
Someday he will understand. He already understands more than he lets on. Just because he says, "Da?" whenever he wants something does not mean he completely lacks language.
Next year, he'll be asking me unexpected questions to me out of the blue, questions that may be inspired by ideas he gets this year.
If people are still doing it next year, I'm going to start saying something.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
A kinder, gentler one-child policy
Yesterday the Cape Cod Times carried this article: Demographers warn of baby shortage in China, as many Chinese choose to have one child.
It reminds me of something our Beijing guide said: "We are all only children in my generation. As only children, we got more opportunities. However, when I get married, we'll have to support my parents and my wife's parents AND our own child. It will be very difficult."
The Chinese, we learned while we were in China, love children. They always have. But it's been 40 years since having a large family was normal and expected.
Things change so quickly there. We can't imagine what it's like. You can't imagine it and neither can I. I've tried and tried to put myself in the shoes of the everyday Chinese citizens who have to make life decisions based on the Government Policy Du Jour. I try to imagine what AwesomeCloud's parents went through that led them to giving him up. And i can't. It's too far outside my personal experience.
1.3 billion people living on the edge of a cliff during a 40-year-long political earthquake.
For all I've read up on Maoism and modern Chinese communism, the one thing I've really learned is that I don't know a thing about what it's like to live in it.
So I hope - not that I've ever had a problem with this before, but you never know - I hope no one wants to form an opinion about the circumstances leading to AwesomeCloud's adoption. I guess I should clarify that this rant is inspired not just by the above article, which is written for Western consumption and does not convey the earthquake politics I'm talking about. My more dedicated readings have inspired it.
I think everyone should read a good, solid book on Maoism at some point in their lives... but I'm also aware that my sense of Important Reading Material is... well... a bit thick, but in my defense, we all live on this Earth, right? Doesn't it make sense to want to learn about life on Earth, and then, while doing so, want to share that knowledge?
Also, I can't lay out my entire thought process in a single blog post, so I feel it would be easier on me if my audience exposed themselves to my context in their own time.
Okay, essentially, I'm too lazy to explain how awed I am by the Chinese/American cultural divide, and why. Sorry.
It reminds me of something our Beijing guide said: "We are all only children in my generation. As only children, we got more opportunities. However, when I get married, we'll have to support my parents and my wife's parents AND our own child. It will be very difficult."
The Chinese, we learned while we were in China, love children. They always have. But it's been 40 years since having a large family was normal and expected.
Things change so quickly there. We can't imagine what it's like. You can't imagine it and neither can I. I've tried and tried to put myself in the shoes of the everyday Chinese citizens who have to make life decisions based on the Government Policy Du Jour. I try to imagine what AwesomeCloud's parents went through that led them to giving him up. And i can't. It's too far outside my personal experience.
1.3 billion people living on the edge of a cliff during a 40-year-long political earthquake.
For all I've read up on Maoism and modern Chinese communism, the one thing I've really learned is that I don't know a thing about what it's like to live in it.
So I hope - not that I've ever had a problem with this before, but you never know - I hope no one wants to form an opinion about the circumstances leading to AwesomeCloud's adoption. I guess I should clarify that this rant is inspired not just by the above article, which is written for Western consumption and does not convey the earthquake politics I'm talking about. My more dedicated readings have inspired it.
I think everyone should read a good, solid book on Maoism at some point in their lives... but I'm also aware that my sense of Important Reading Material is... well... a bit thick, but in my defense, we all live on this Earth, right? Doesn't it make sense to want to learn about life on Earth, and then, while doing so, want to share that knowledge?
Also, I can't lay out my entire thought process in a single blog post, so I feel it would be easier on me if my audience exposed themselves to my context in their own time.
Okay, essentially, I'm too lazy to explain how awed I am by the Chinese/American cultural divide, and why. Sorry.
My parenting's better than yours!
Parenting trends - can't live with 'em, can't seem to escape them. I had two incidents in a row this weekend.
First one:
AwesomeCloud and I were sitting peaceably at the coloring table, sorta coloring fish. I drew an eye on the fish, and AwesomeCloud then picked up one crayon at a time and made a tiny dot with it on the fish's body. It was a very colorful fish, but only if you looked at it very closely. (We then forgot to bring it home with us. Oh well.)
A harried-looking mother walked by the table, backwards, pleading with her chubby-cheeked 3-year-old daughter that it was time to leave.
"I don't want to leave," said the girl. She looked around, saw the coloring table, and ran over to it. "I want to do this," she announced.
I helpfully passed her some crayons, and she thanked me half-heartedly (and nonverbally) but didn't pick any of them up.
"Please," said the mother. "We need to go."
The little girl sighed and absently fingered a crayon.
The mom rushed off. Soon she returned, sat on the bench, and thrust a package in front of her daughter's face. "If we go home, we can blow up this Dora the Explorer inflatable toy," she said.
The girl sighed again.
"I'm a big fan of the 'grab and run' method," I offered.
The mom frowned. "I can't do that. She cries all the way to the door."
So? Like nobody here has ever heard a child cry?
She finally coaxed her sullen daughter away from the coloring table. As she turned toward the exit, she remarked to someone who she must have already known, judging by the familiarity of their manner, "Bribery! It always works."
I don't know if I'd call that 'working'. Both of them were pretty unhappy. My son is a year younger, so maybe I'm no one to talk. But our Leaving Routine consists of me presenting him with his jacket, putting it on him, and then taking his hand, and there is very rarely any unhappiness.
Of course, I waited until AwesomeCloud was hungry for lunch before I tried to leave. "Let's go eat!" is a great motivator too. And, y'know, if I have time to blow up Dora the Explorer at home, I have time to stay at the coloring table for another half hour of laboriously placed dots. Or another 50 times up and down the handicapped ramp. Maybe she had some important laundry to put in the dryer. Maybe I shouldn't gloat.
Second one:
"He seems really happy!" an acquaintance of mine observed as she looked at AwesomeCloud.
"Yes," I agreed. "He has cake. Who wouldn't be happy with cake?"
"Indeed," agreed the woman, a little unenthusiastically. "You know, I never gave my children any sweets. They never had cake until they were two."
"AwesomeCloud's on the American Diet," I remarked. "He eats healthy foods, but we also go to Dunkie's and get a sandwich and a donut. He likes his junk food almost too much."
"No," said my friend. "I fed my kids very healthy foods."
"Yes!" I argued back. "AwesomeCloud does in fact eat like an American."
(Why do people respond with a statement you make about your own self with an emphatic "No!" and then share the equivalent fact about themselves? I've started responding every time with "Yes!" and then restating my fact.)
Also, you know what? That's so cool that 20 years ago she was able to keep her kids on a super-healthy, junk-free diet for the first few years of their lives. That's awesome! We should all be inspired by her!
But that doesn't mean I'm completely made of fail. Sure, my son will inhale donuts and cakes by the dozen and whines in anticipation if he hears the word 'muffin'. But he also eats spinach voluntarily - that's right, voluntarily. And butternut squash, which I have managed to somewhat tolerate so I can eat it with him and set a good example. And a bunch of other good-for-you things.
And cake. And, yes, I give him cake. So does Daddy. It's food, it's easy to come by, and we're regular Americans.
Maybe we're inadvertently following a few parenting trends. But it seems like you can't do any sort of parenting without there being a trend for it.
First one:
AwesomeCloud and I were sitting peaceably at the coloring table, sorta coloring fish. I drew an eye on the fish, and AwesomeCloud then picked up one crayon at a time and made a tiny dot with it on the fish's body. It was a very colorful fish, but only if you looked at it very closely. (We then forgot to bring it home with us. Oh well.)
A harried-looking mother walked by the table, backwards, pleading with her chubby-cheeked 3-year-old daughter that it was time to leave.
"I don't want to leave," said the girl. She looked around, saw the coloring table, and ran over to it. "I want to do this," she announced.
I helpfully passed her some crayons, and she thanked me half-heartedly (and nonverbally) but didn't pick any of them up.
"Please," said the mother. "We need to go."
The little girl sighed and absently fingered a crayon.
The mom rushed off. Soon she returned, sat on the bench, and thrust a package in front of her daughter's face. "If we go home, we can blow up this Dora the Explorer inflatable toy," she said.
The girl sighed again.
"I'm a big fan of the 'grab and run' method," I offered.
The mom frowned. "I can't do that. She cries all the way to the door."
So? Like nobody here has ever heard a child cry?
She finally coaxed her sullen daughter away from the coloring table. As she turned toward the exit, she remarked to someone who she must have already known, judging by the familiarity of their manner, "Bribery! It always works."
I don't know if I'd call that 'working'. Both of them were pretty unhappy. My son is a year younger, so maybe I'm no one to talk. But our Leaving Routine consists of me presenting him with his jacket, putting it on him, and then taking his hand, and there is very rarely any unhappiness.
Of course, I waited until AwesomeCloud was hungry for lunch before I tried to leave. "Let's go eat!" is a great motivator too. And, y'know, if I have time to blow up Dora the Explorer at home, I have time to stay at the coloring table for another half hour of laboriously placed dots. Or another 50 times up and down the handicapped ramp. Maybe she had some important laundry to put in the dryer. Maybe I shouldn't gloat.
Second one:
"He seems really happy!" an acquaintance of mine observed as she looked at AwesomeCloud.
"Yes," I agreed. "He has cake. Who wouldn't be happy with cake?"
"Indeed," agreed the woman, a little unenthusiastically. "You know, I never gave my children any sweets. They never had cake until they were two."
"AwesomeCloud's on the American Diet," I remarked. "He eats healthy foods, but we also go to Dunkie's and get a sandwich and a donut. He likes his junk food almost too much."
"No," said my friend. "I fed my kids very healthy foods."
"Yes!" I argued back. "AwesomeCloud does in fact eat like an American."
(Why do people respond with a statement you make about your own self with an emphatic "No!" and then share the equivalent fact about themselves? I've started responding every time with "Yes!" and then restating my fact.)
Also, you know what? That's so cool that 20 years ago she was able to keep her kids on a super-healthy, junk-free diet for the first few years of their lives. That's awesome! We should all be inspired by her!
But that doesn't mean I'm completely made of fail. Sure, my son will inhale donuts and cakes by the dozen and whines in anticipation if he hears the word 'muffin'. But he also eats spinach voluntarily - that's right, voluntarily. And butternut squash, which I have managed to somewhat tolerate so I can eat it with him and set a good example. And a bunch of other good-for-you things.
And cake. And, yes, I give him cake. So does Daddy. It's food, it's easy to come by, and we're regular Americans.
Maybe we're inadvertently following a few parenting trends. But it seems like you can't do any sort of parenting without there being a trend for it.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Earth Day Plans (updated with new art!)
Tomorrow is Earth Day. It is celebrated the world over, but I just read a news article that claimed only 2% of the world plans to participate this year. How sad. Don't you appreciate this lovely planet we live on, its resources, your local ecosystems, and the fresh air and greenery that surrounds us?
(If you're not surrounded by fresh air and greenery... well... we environmentalists are working on it! Hang in there!)
So, who out there has plans?
My plan is to draw some more. I'm working on Issue #2 of "Unpopular Species," a series of minicomics about some of the critters and plants that are less loved. Here's the cover of the first issue:
It's accidentally appropos to Earth Day. By raising awareness of species that aren't necessarily cuddly but still live among us, I can hopefully remind people that there are lots and lots of reasons to preserve the environment. However, I'm only working on this comic book now because there's a comic show this Saturday and we need more books to sell at our table.
AwesomeCloud and Daddy are going to an Earth Day concert in Boston tomorrow. Those are always fun, and Cloud has been doing well at various events and activities, so we hope he'll enjoy a live outdoor concert.
Additionally, I'm going vegetarian for Earth Day. Of all the eco-friendly dietary changes a person can make, eating less meat is at the very top of the list. Every cow we consume does significant damage to the world while it's alive. Every pig and chicken use up valuable resources. Every fish is caught from a struggling, depleted population that cannot handle the strain of human demand. Have some unprocessed veggies and rice instead. That's what I'm having.
In fact, I already started today. And yesterday was low on meat too, except for the Chinese pork dumplings and a bit of leftover chicken. I guess I've had meatlessness on the brain lately.
Now it's your turn. What's your plan? If you don't have one yet, quick, make one up! It can be something little.
ADDENDUM: Here's a sample of Unpopular Species #2. It's a lionfish. It's invasive and very destructive, but it sure is pretty. (Just remember: don't dump your pet fish into the wild. Or any other pets either.)
(If you're not surrounded by fresh air and greenery... well... we environmentalists are working on it! Hang in there!)
So, who out there has plans?
My plan is to draw some more. I'm working on Issue #2 of "Unpopular Species," a series of minicomics about some of the critters and plants that are less loved. Here's the cover of the first issue:
It's accidentally appropos to Earth Day. By raising awareness of species that aren't necessarily cuddly but still live among us, I can hopefully remind people that there are lots and lots of reasons to preserve the environment. However, I'm only working on this comic book now because there's a comic show this Saturday and we need more books to sell at our table.
AwesomeCloud and Daddy are going to an Earth Day concert in Boston tomorrow. Those are always fun, and Cloud has been doing well at various events and activities, so we hope he'll enjoy a live outdoor concert.
Additionally, I'm going vegetarian for Earth Day. Of all the eco-friendly dietary changes a person can make, eating less meat is at the very top of the list. Every cow we consume does significant damage to the world while it's alive. Every pig and chicken use up valuable resources. Every fish is caught from a struggling, depleted population that cannot handle the strain of human demand. Have some unprocessed veggies and rice instead. That's what I'm having.
In fact, I already started today. And yesterday was low on meat too, except for the Chinese pork dumplings and a bit of leftover chicken. I guess I've had meatlessness on the brain lately.
Now it's your turn. What's your plan? If you don't have one yet, quick, make one up! It can be something little.
ADDENDUM: Here's a sample of Unpopular Species #2. It's a lionfish. It's invasive and very destructive, but it sure is pretty. (Just remember: don't dump your pet fish into the wild. Or any other pets either.)
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Everybody's greatest fear (!!!!)
The greatest fear of adoptive families out in public, anyhow.
AwesomeCloud and I were at Home Depot, cruising around and looking at PVC connectors and lumber brackets. Orange-vested employees kept coming up and asking us if we needed any help, and if I could think of a question, I'd ask it; if not, I'd say no thanks.
Then a middle-aged customer caught my eye in passing, smiled at AwesomeCloud, and said, "How much did you pay for him?"
Oh no. I'd heard that people ask this question, and I've read rants about how deeply offensive and inappropriate it is. I am well prepped to resent the implication.
Just not prepared to actually answer it.
"Gak," I said.
"How much did you pay for him?" the man asked again. Apparently he thought "Gak" meant "Please repeat yourself; I didn't hear you."
"Gak," I said again, this time more pointedly and with greater outrage.
"I was just kidding!" he said. And he wandered off.
Just kidding.... ohhhh. Right. Just kidding.
I have to inform you, Mr. Hardware Store Customer, that your joke fell flat and I can't think of any way to salvage it. Perhaps you should drop it from your repertoire.
AwesomeCloud and I were at Home Depot, cruising around and looking at PVC connectors and lumber brackets. Orange-vested employees kept coming up and asking us if we needed any help, and if I could think of a question, I'd ask it; if not, I'd say no thanks.
Then a middle-aged customer caught my eye in passing, smiled at AwesomeCloud, and said, "How much did you pay for him?"
Oh no. I'd heard that people ask this question, and I've read rants about how deeply offensive and inappropriate it is. I am well prepped to resent the implication.
Just not prepared to actually answer it.
"Gak," I said.
"How much did you pay for him?" the man asked again. Apparently he thought "Gak" meant "Please repeat yourself; I didn't hear you."
"Gak," I said again, this time more pointedly and with greater outrage.
"I was just kidding!" he said. And he wandered off.
Just kidding.... ohhhh. Right. Just kidding.
I have to inform you, Mr. Hardware Store Customer, that your joke fell flat and I can't think of any way to salvage it. Perhaps you should drop it from your repertoire.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Alas, the emptiness of a home without kids' movies
This morning at the mall, as we headed to our special bench to eat our Dunkin Donuts sandwich, one of the mallwalkers stopped to talk to us. She was amused by AwesomeCloud's eager but unsteady gait. Apparently it reminded her of penguins.
"Have you seen that movie about the penguins?" she asked me. "They walk a little bit like that."
"March of the Penguins!" I said. Hey, I don't completely live under a rock.
"Yeah! Has he seen it? He'd love it! It's so funny!" she said.
I shook my head as we sat on the bench. "He hasn't watched any movies yet," I told her.
She seemed rather surprised. "No? No movies at all?"
"Well," I explained, "He's only two. There's plenty of time."
"My [friend's granddaughter, cousin's daughter, something like that], she's older now, but when she was about a year old she'd go right up to the TV and put her hands on it, like this, and just stare and stare."
"Oh dear," I said sympathetically. "I'm in no hurry for TV. There's plenty of time for that."
"Doesn't he watch anything?" the woman asked.
I shook my head. "We don't have cable, and although we have a few movies, we haven't pulled them out yet."
"You know what you should get? Nexflix."
"Ummm," I said. "I don't think we'd get enough use out of that at the moment."
"No, it's great!" she insisted.
"I just... we don't really do stuff like that."
"Oh. I do it every day," she announced, and then hurried off at mallwalking speed.
I think what's going on here is framing. If you watch a lot of TV and movies, then your outlook on life will be framed by TV and movies. That's okay. That's the human psyche in action. However, if someone chooses a different approach to life, their outlook will be framed differently.
My world has been framed by the internet for a few years now - the internet is my TV, except largely text-based (I prefer articles to YouTube videos) and I get to participate with my blog and by leaving comments. I enjoy the interactive, entertainment-at-my-own-pace dynamics better than I enjoy the TV unfolding obliviously before me.
Nowadays, my world is also framed by a toddler's-view discovery of the small things in life. Playing "Stop... Go!" in the driveway has supplanted 10-second McDonald's commercials. Instead of training myself to be aware of just the right moment to reach for the remote, I've been trained to watch for that little hand grabbing for me. It's different, but largely equivalent, and it's where my head needs to be at this time.
I've also allowed books to frame my world this year. My goal is to read 50 books in a year, and I've finished 18 or so already. Most of them are memoirs or ecological nonfiction, with a few thin novels by H.P. Lovecraft thrown in. (Sometimes I need a quickie to keep my numbers up.) I have to say that all these books have affected the way I think. I've never been good at having an idle mind. And challenging myself with bold new ideas mitigates a little of the tediousness of the hours spent watching how a ball rolls just so down the sidewalk.
And when I really must watch moving pictures... did you know PBS puts every episode of Frontline on their website? It's a treasure trove of stimulating and sometimes shocking education. (Watch The Suicide Tourist if you can - my friend Ivan's parents are in it.) I'm also a loyal follower of TED: Ideas Worth Spreading.
I'm not morally opposed to TV in general, or of my son watching it specifically. I just feel it's okay to be enamoured with other things. There's plenty of time for cartoons and Disney. We'll pull out the kids' movies someday. We just haven't yet.
"Have you seen that movie about the penguins?" she asked me. "They walk a little bit like that."
"March of the Penguins!" I said. Hey, I don't completely live under a rock.
"Yeah! Has he seen it? He'd love it! It's so funny!" she said.
I shook my head as we sat on the bench. "He hasn't watched any movies yet," I told her.
She seemed rather surprised. "No? No movies at all?"
"Well," I explained, "He's only two. There's plenty of time."
"My [friend's granddaughter, cousin's daughter, something like that], she's older now, but when she was about a year old she'd go right up to the TV and put her hands on it, like this, and just stare and stare."
"Oh dear," I said sympathetically. "I'm in no hurry for TV. There's plenty of time for that."
"Doesn't he watch anything?" the woman asked.
I shook my head. "We don't have cable, and although we have a few movies, we haven't pulled them out yet."
"You know what you should get? Nexflix."
"Ummm," I said. "I don't think we'd get enough use out of that at the moment."
"No, it's great!" she insisted.
"I just... we don't really do stuff like that."
"Oh. I do it every day," she announced, and then hurried off at mallwalking speed.
I think what's going on here is framing. If you watch a lot of TV and movies, then your outlook on life will be framed by TV and movies. That's okay. That's the human psyche in action. However, if someone chooses a different approach to life, their outlook will be framed differently.
My world has been framed by the internet for a few years now - the internet is my TV, except largely text-based (I prefer articles to YouTube videos) and I get to participate with my blog and by leaving comments. I enjoy the interactive, entertainment-at-my-own-pace dynamics better than I enjoy the TV unfolding obliviously before me.
Nowadays, my world is also framed by a toddler's-view discovery of the small things in life. Playing "Stop... Go!" in the driveway has supplanted 10-second McDonald's commercials. Instead of training myself to be aware of just the right moment to reach for the remote, I've been trained to watch for that little hand grabbing for me. It's different, but largely equivalent, and it's where my head needs to be at this time.
I've also allowed books to frame my world this year. My goal is to read 50 books in a year, and I've finished 18 or so already. Most of them are memoirs or ecological nonfiction, with a few thin novels by H.P. Lovecraft thrown in. (Sometimes I need a quickie to keep my numbers up.) I have to say that all these books have affected the way I think. I've never been good at having an idle mind. And challenging myself with bold new ideas mitigates a little of the tediousness of the hours spent watching how a ball rolls just so down the sidewalk.
And when I really must watch moving pictures... did you know PBS puts every episode of Frontline on their website? It's a treasure trove of stimulating and sometimes shocking education. (Watch The Suicide Tourist if you can - my friend Ivan's parents are in it.) I'm also a loyal follower of TED: Ideas Worth Spreading.
I'm not morally opposed to TV in general, or of my son watching it specifically. I just feel it's okay to be enamoured with other things. There's plenty of time for cartoons and Disney. We'll pull out the kids' movies someday. We just haven't yet.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Improvements, maybe...
Kiddo seems better today. I think... maybe.... the worst is over.
I could do without some hospitals for awhile. I may even reschedule the visit with the adoption specialist, so Cloud and I have some more time to rest before hauling ourselves up to Boston once more.
In other news... um... not much, actually. Life kinda ground to a halt while we were having our medical adventures. I'm picking up the phone and trying to get back into a state of normalcy, little by little.
I could do without some hospitals for awhile. I may even reschedule the visit with the adoption specialist, so Cloud and I have some more time to rest before hauling ourselves up to Boston once more.
In other news... um... not much, actually. Life kinda ground to a halt while we were having our medical adventures. I'm picking up the phone and trying to get back into a state of normalcy, little by little.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Back to Children's, yes, seriously
We had another health scare today. The x-ray found nothing, however, and they didn't admit the kiddo. I have to watch him for more vomiting and refusal of liquids, but hopefully he'll be all right.
His refusal to drink is the most worrisome thing right now. Also, he's been lethargic all day. Last night he didn't look so hot either - when I came to get him from Playtime, he was lounging around on his side looking dazed, and the child care volunteer got very defensive and said he was fine, fine, just great.
I explained to her that it was okay if he felt lousy; he'd just had surgery. It wasn't her fault.
He napped in the car, and now he's napping again. Two naps! Uh oh.
On another note... I HATE THE TEA PARTY!! I spent practically all morning rushing my sick kid to BCH through a massive traffic jam of SUVs, each with one person in them, well after rush hour. Apparently the Tea Party was in town, with Sarah Palin speaking in the Boston Common. %&$# you, Tea Party! Get out of my way!
They all have such big trucks. I wonder why they need all those big trucks. Are they all movers and landscapers?
His refusal to drink is the most worrisome thing right now. Also, he's been lethargic all day. Last night he didn't look so hot either - when I came to get him from Playtime, he was lounging around on his side looking dazed, and the child care volunteer got very defensive and said he was fine, fine, just great.
I explained to her that it was okay if he felt lousy; he'd just had surgery. It wasn't her fault.
He napped in the car, and now he's napping again. Two naps! Uh oh.
On another note... I HATE THE TEA PARTY!! I spent practically all morning rushing my sick kid to BCH through a massive traffic jam of SUVs, each with one person in them, well after rush hour. Apparently the Tea Party was in town, with Sarah Palin speaking in the Boston Common. %&$# you, Tea Party! Get out of my way!
They all have such big trucks. I wonder why they need all those big trucks. Are they all movers and landscapers?
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The truth about adoption
My adoption agency put out an open invitation for all its families to blog about our adoptions in response to the widely spread news story of the Tennessee woman who tried to return her son to Russia by putting him on a plane by himself.
Here's an excerpt:
So... who better to blog about positive adoption stories than us?
I guess we're the very picture of a dream-perfect adoption. Well, maybe. It depends on what you're dreaming of. Our son has adapted remarkably well. He's been part of our family for almost 7 months and he fits right in. He giggles, makes eye contact, shies away from strangers just enough, and thrives in the familiarity of our home. His behavior is right on track for his age, by normal Western birth-child standards. He's lagging behind in certain skills - language, gross motor, etc. - but he's catching up fast. We're already passing the point of blaming all his quirks and difficulties on the trauma of adoption. Sure, his trauma still lingers somewhere in his brain, but it's not defining everything about him anymore.
There are some marked differences between our story and the Hansens'.
1) AwesomeCloud was much younger when we adopted him. Older children may struggle more, and differently.
2) He's an only child with a stay-at-home mom who lavishes attention on him throughout most of the day.
3) He's an eternal optimist. He's just wired to be happy.
4) I am led to believe his orphanage was actually pretty good, and he does not seem to have been abused or neglected. No orphanage is as good as a real home, but China is making efforts to provide greater care for their orphans, and I think they prepped Cloud pretty well for attaching to his new family.
5) It's only been 7 months. Maybe when he learns to talk he'll say awful things too.
However, until he's actually playing with matches and sloshing gasoline around the house, I can't imagine taking such extreme measures as Torry Hansen and her mother did. I'd exhaust every other option first. I'd be banging down the door of every social worker in my area, tolerating all the condescending criticism of my parenting skills. I'm not really an "ask for help" kind of person (anymore) but I'd get over myself and ask like crazy. I might, maybe, even try medication (as a last resort, though it'd break my heart).
I'm not saying I'd never, ever give up. I may be a great parent for AwesomeCloud, but I might find it impossible for me to parent children with certain other behaviors. If all my best efforts fail a child... maybe I'd give up, I suppose.
I'd like to think that if I don't give up on a difficult cat (Trixie), I wouldn't give up on a child. But I might.
What I am saying is that I totally, completely, can't relate to the course of events that led to Torry Ann's abandonment of Artyom. Their story feels so, so foreign and ugly and wrong. The worst I've done is put my kid in his crib screaming and sobbing and then walk away for a while. I'm not proud, and it's not something I want the adoption agents to find out about. But I bet if you'd watched the clock while I did it, you'd notice it didn't take long for guilt and regret to get the better of me and make me scoop him back up and hug him and apologize.
He has been known to cry inconsolably, of course, especially in the beginning. He left his dad and me feeling largely helpless. But a bumpy beginning was part of our dream. An unhappy hospital stay (or two or three) was within our expectations. You just chant to yourself, "This too shall pass." And it passes.
To be fair, he can't voice threats to kill us when he's nonverbal. He can't draw frightening pictures if he keeps throwing his crayons. He won't be dousing the perimeter with gasoline until he builds up those muscles.
But he's not like that. Not at all. Today he helped me sweep. He held the middle of the broom, and I held the top, and we dragged that broom across the kitchen floor yelling, "Sweep sweep sweep!" And then we laughed.
THAT'S who AwesomeCloud is. He laughs. And that's who I am - I let him try things out, and then I laugh too. That's our life, moment to moment, once you allow for the unpleasant things like changing bandages and pushing an IV alongside his stroller.
And, y'know, even in the hospital stroller he found a way to cope. He memorized the location of the snack room and the elevator. He ate a lot of pudding and went downstairs to play the jukebox.
Every adoption is different. Some kids are eternally miserable and some are persistently sunny. Then again, some parents are, too. There's a good chance that when we adopt again, we won't have another child with AwesomeCloud's demeanor. But if he keeps his demeanor, and we stay positive too, maybe she'll come around to the sunny side. (It's funny I'm saying this, because I've had my dark periods. Maybe I just ran out of darkness. It resurfaces every now and then, but in innocuous ways - I'm familiar and comfortable with my dark side and it doesn't block out the Big Picture anymore. My husband, however, is genuinely sunny through and through.)
Or maybe she'll be eternally difficult too. I admit the possibility scares me. Having just gotten through AwesomeCloud's hospital ordeal, I'm in the mood for some really easy, effortless parenting. But we have to believe we'll manage. And we'll have to remember how to ask for help if we need it.
Here's an excerpt:
Russia threatened to suspend all child adoptions by U.S. families Friday after a 7-year-old boy adopted by a woman from Tennessee was sent alone on a one-way flight back to Moscow with a note saying he was violent and had severe psychological problems.
The boy, Artyom Savelyev, was put on a plane by his adopted grandmother, Nancy Hansen of Shelbyville.
"He drew a picture of our house burning down and he'll tell anybody that he's going to burn our house down with us in it," she told The Associated Press in a telephone interview. "It got to be where you feared for your safety. It was terrible."
So... who better to blog about positive adoption stories than us?
I guess we're the very picture of a dream-perfect adoption. Well, maybe. It depends on what you're dreaming of. Our son has adapted remarkably well. He's been part of our family for almost 7 months and he fits right in. He giggles, makes eye contact, shies away from strangers just enough, and thrives in the familiarity of our home. His behavior is right on track for his age, by normal Western birth-child standards. He's lagging behind in certain skills - language, gross motor, etc. - but he's catching up fast. We're already passing the point of blaming all his quirks and difficulties on the trauma of adoption. Sure, his trauma still lingers somewhere in his brain, but it's not defining everything about him anymore.
There are some marked differences between our story and the Hansens'.
1) AwesomeCloud was much younger when we adopted him. Older children may struggle more, and differently.
2) He's an only child with a stay-at-home mom who lavishes attention on him throughout most of the day.
3) He's an eternal optimist. He's just wired to be happy.
4) I am led to believe his orphanage was actually pretty good, and he does not seem to have been abused or neglected. No orphanage is as good as a real home, but China is making efforts to provide greater care for their orphans, and I think they prepped Cloud pretty well for attaching to his new family.
5) It's only been 7 months. Maybe when he learns to talk he'll say awful things too.
However, until he's actually playing with matches and sloshing gasoline around the house, I can't imagine taking such extreme measures as Torry Hansen and her mother did. I'd exhaust every other option first. I'd be banging down the door of every social worker in my area, tolerating all the condescending criticism of my parenting skills. I'm not really an "ask for help" kind of person (anymore) but I'd get over myself and ask like crazy. I might, maybe, even try medication (as a last resort, though it'd break my heart).
I'm not saying I'd never, ever give up. I may be a great parent for AwesomeCloud, but I might find it impossible for me to parent children with certain other behaviors. If all my best efforts fail a child... maybe I'd give up, I suppose.
I'd like to think that if I don't give up on a difficult cat (Trixie), I wouldn't give up on a child. But I might.
What I am saying is that I totally, completely, can't relate to the course of events that led to Torry Ann's abandonment of Artyom. Their story feels so, so foreign and ugly and wrong. The worst I've done is put my kid in his crib screaming and sobbing and then walk away for a while. I'm not proud, and it's not something I want the adoption agents to find out about. But I bet if you'd watched the clock while I did it, you'd notice it didn't take long for guilt and regret to get the better of me and make me scoop him back up and hug him and apologize.
He has been known to cry inconsolably, of course, especially in the beginning. He left his dad and me feeling largely helpless. But a bumpy beginning was part of our dream. An unhappy hospital stay (or two or three) was within our expectations. You just chant to yourself, "This too shall pass." And it passes.
To be fair, he can't voice threats to kill us when he's nonverbal. He can't draw frightening pictures if he keeps throwing his crayons. He won't be dousing the perimeter with gasoline until he builds up those muscles.
But he's not like that. Not at all. Today he helped me sweep. He held the middle of the broom, and I held the top, and we dragged that broom across the kitchen floor yelling, "Sweep sweep sweep!" And then we laughed.
THAT'S who AwesomeCloud is. He laughs. And that's who I am - I let him try things out, and then I laugh too. That's our life, moment to moment, once you allow for the unpleasant things like changing bandages and pushing an IV alongside his stroller.
And, y'know, even in the hospital stroller he found a way to cope. He memorized the location of the snack room and the elevator. He ate a lot of pudding and went downstairs to play the jukebox.
Every adoption is different. Some kids are eternally miserable and some are persistently sunny. Then again, some parents are, too. There's a good chance that when we adopt again, we won't have another child with AwesomeCloud's demeanor. But if he keeps his demeanor, and we stay positive too, maybe she'll come around to the sunny side. (It's funny I'm saying this, because I've had my dark periods. Maybe I just ran out of darkness. It resurfaces every now and then, but in innocuous ways - I'm familiar and comfortable with my dark side and it doesn't block out the Big Picture anymore. My husband, however, is genuinely sunny through and through.)
Or maybe she'll be eternally difficult too. I admit the possibility scares me. Having just gotten through AwesomeCloud's hospital ordeal, I'm in the mood for some really easy, effortless parenting. But we have to believe we'll manage. And we'll have to remember how to ask for help if we need it.
Monday, April 12, 2010
So... that headache
That neverending headache I was complaining about earlier...
Sinus infection.
No, it's okay. A sinus infection is a known quantity. I can deal with this. I mean, I'm still in pain, but at least it's not pain plus uncertainty, which tends to equal frustration and then lead to grouchiness and reduced functionality.
I gots me some anna biotics. I'm okays.
Sinus infection.
No, it's okay. A sinus infection is a known quantity. I can deal with this. I mean, I'm still in pain, but at least it's not pain plus uncertainty, which tends to equal frustration and then lead to grouchiness and reduced functionality.
I gots me some anna biotics. I'm okays.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
My brain never came home
We've been home from the hospital for five days and I still feel disconnected from life.
Part of it might be this headache that never seems to end. Maybe it's because I thought the headaches were hospital-induced, and when I still get them, I'm reminded of the hospital.
Children's hospital isn't a bad place; what lingers in my mind most is how difficult it was to comfort my son throughout our stay. Now he's great. He bounced back a lot more quickly than me.
He continues to be cute and charm the pants off everyone he meets. I'd write more about his antics of great cuteness, but it's already 10:00, which means I've managed to write eight sentences in an hour. I'll blog some other time. Now I should just go to bed.
Part of it might be this headache that never seems to end. Maybe it's because I thought the headaches were hospital-induced, and when I still get them, I'm reminded of the hospital.
Children's hospital isn't a bad place; what lingers in my mind most is how difficult it was to comfort my son throughout our stay. Now he's great. He bounced back a lot more quickly than me.
He continues to be cute and charm the pants off everyone he meets. I'd write more about his antics of great cuteness, but it's already 10:00, which means I've managed to write eight sentences in an hour. I'll blog some other time. Now I should just go to bed.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Home again, home again (Home again!)
We are home. Again! Hi!
How are you all? Enjoying the beautiful weather, I hope, if you have some. We do.
It's lovely getting discharged in 70 degree sunny weather in April.
I won't be able to share all the gory details about AwesomeCloud's latest hospital adventure. For one thing, my brain is so dead it wouldn't be able to organize all those details into a coherent narrative. For another, I'm too tired to type for an hour, and the house looks like it's had three unsupervised cats in it for four days straight, and fourth of all, I'm way behind on work. Like, so far behind my boss must be having heart palpitations.
Nobody planned for this infection. In fact, we all planned to be home this whole time, and you can tell just by looking around. Take the fridge, for instance. Is that a fridge that has been carefully emptied of perishables and leftovers in anticipation of an extended absence? Why, no, it isn't.
I spent the morning on a grand hunt for liquid oxycodone. Apparently not too many drugstores carry it. We finally found one, and the pharmacists were delightful. I may even want to go back there and give them more of my business. It's a privately owned pharmacy, the only one within miles as far as I know.
Other than that, AwesomeCloud has been getting reacquainted with his toys and his favorite foods, and I'm still muddle-headed. I feel distanced from my life. And not in the way I feel after a week on vacation. This is a deeper distancing than that. I'm dragging my feet a little and not trying real hard to jump back into life as usual. I don't know why I'm reluctant to feel normal again.
Maybe I'm grieving.
However, AwesomeCloud's ordeal wasn't as bad as it could have been. Once the infection clears, that will be the end. He will officially be a non-special-needs kid in every way.
And, OMG, he grew up quite a bit in the past few weeks! It seems like he went into the hospital as a baby and came out a kid. He understands more language, his memory is better, and he can navigate places he's only been to a couple of times before. He's more sure of himself and his wants and don't-wants. He clings to me like a piece of cathair, but he doesn't go along with all my decisions anymore like he used to.
He lost two pounds. Two of his precious, hard-earned pounds. Well, with all of these wacky diets he's been on, I'm not surprised. High-fiber, no-fiber, clear liquid, IV diet, soft foods, liquids-no-apple-juice, the IV diet again, the constipation diet, the diarrhea diet.... gah! He resembles a stick figure again - big round head, sticklike body and limbs. But this time he's a lot taller.
He has also decided to eschew both bottles and sippy cups. This would be a good thing, except that he's humorously bad at drinking out of a regular cup. Seriously, humorously bad. I crack up every time he tries. That's how bad he is.
I'm trying to teach him to do it right, because he has to drink. Meanwhile I'm feeding him the wateriest foods he'll eat. And I made him walk around in the sun today to get him to work up a thirst.
Okay, I didn't make him. There was nothing else to do while we waited for the oxycodone. This pharmacy doesn't sell toys like CVS does. Not that I would have bought him one if it did. He can play with a bunch of dumb old toys anytime. Running up and down the handicapped ramp is much more enriching. As is chasing a tufted titmouse from tree to tree while imitating its mating call.
How are you all? Enjoying the beautiful weather, I hope, if you have some. We do.
It's lovely getting discharged in 70 degree sunny weather in April.
I won't be able to share all the gory details about AwesomeCloud's latest hospital adventure. For one thing, my brain is so dead it wouldn't be able to organize all those details into a coherent narrative. For another, I'm too tired to type for an hour, and the house looks like it's had three unsupervised cats in it for four days straight, and fourth of all, I'm way behind on work. Like, so far behind my boss must be having heart palpitations.
Nobody planned for this infection. In fact, we all planned to be home this whole time, and you can tell just by looking around. Take the fridge, for instance. Is that a fridge that has been carefully emptied of perishables and leftovers in anticipation of an extended absence? Why, no, it isn't.
I spent the morning on a grand hunt for liquid oxycodone. Apparently not too many drugstores carry it. We finally found one, and the pharmacists were delightful. I may even want to go back there and give them more of my business. It's a privately owned pharmacy, the only one within miles as far as I know.
Other than that, AwesomeCloud has been getting reacquainted with his toys and his favorite foods, and I'm still muddle-headed. I feel distanced from my life. And not in the way I feel after a week on vacation. This is a deeper distancing than that. I'm dragging my feet a little and not trying real hard to jump back into life as usual. I don't know why I'm reluctant to feel normal again.
Maybe I'm grieving.
However, AwesomeCloud's ordeal wasn't as bad as it could have been. Once the infection clears, that will be the end. He will officially be a non-special-needs kid in every way.
And, OMG, he grew up quite a bit in the past few weeks! It seems like he went into the hospital as a baby and came out a kid. He understands more language, his memory is better, and he can navigate places he's only been to a couple of times before. He's more sure of himself and his wants and don't-wants. He clings to me like a piece of cathair, but he doesn't go along with all my decisions anymore like he used to.
He lost two pounds. Two of his precious, hard-earned pounds. Well, with all of these wacky diets he's been on, I'm not surprised. High-fiber, no-fiber, clear liquid, IV diet, soft foods, liquids-no-apple-juice, the IV diet again, the constipation diet, the diarrhea diet.... gah! He resembles a stick figure again - big round head, sticklike body and limbs. But this time he's a lot taller.
He has also decided to eschew both bottles and sippy cups. This would be a good thing, except that he's humorously bad at drinking out of a regular cup. Seriously, humorously bad. I crack up every time he tries. That's how bad he is.
I'm trying to teach him to do it right, because he has to drink. Meanwhile I'm feeding him the wateriest foods he'll eat. And I made him walk around in the sun today to get him to work up a thirst.
Okay, I didn't make him. There was nothing else to do while we waited for the oxycodone. This pharmacy doesn't sell toys like CVS does. Not that I would have bought him one if it did. He can play with a bunch of dumb old toys anytime. Running up and down the handicapped ramp is much more enriching. As is chasing a tufted titmouse from tree to tree while imitating its mating call.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Hospital update - Easter Sunday
Kiddo had both fluid and blockage. Both were related to the surgery and not a stomach bug. (I suppose there's still the possibility there was a stomach bug - there's no positive evidence that rules out the presence of a virus - but surgery complications is an adequate explanation.)
They drained the fluid. Daddy got to watch! They're in the process of loosening up and flushing out the blockage.
His belly has an infection, so they're going to keep him in the hospital for at least one more night, probably more. I'm taking the bus and trading places with Daddy. And I have to leave very soon because my ride to the bus station is actually a friend who will be on her way to church.
Bussing it on Easter Sunday. Yay. Save some ham and chocolate for me, everyone. (Chocolate, anyway. I'm not much of a meat lover. I'd actually rather have some Easter eggplant parm than ham.)
(I'm not mad at the pediatrician. I see what she was trying to do. She thought an X-ray was unnecessary and wanted to spare him the ordeal. As luck would have it, her diagnosis was wrong. And yes, there is some wisdom in the idea that if the kid just had surgery, you should check for blockages just in case. In hindsight, I should have subscribed to that line of thinking. I should have asked her for an X-ray anyway. But I saw her point and hoped she was right, and it turned out she was wrong. Sorry.)
:(
They drained the fluid. Daddy got to watch! They're in the process of loosening up and flushing out the blockage.
His belly has an infection, so they're going to keep him in the hospital for at least one more night, probably more. I'm taking the bus and trading places with Daddy. And I have to leave very soon because my ride to the bus station is actually a friend who will be on her way to church.
Bussing it on Easter Sunday. Yay. Save some ham and chocolate for me, everyone. (Chocolate, anyway. I'm not much of a meat lover. I'd actually rather have some Easter eggplant parm than ham.)
(I'm not mad at the pediatrician. I see what she was trying to do. She thought an X-ray was unnecessary and wanted to spare him the ordeal. As luck would have it, her diagnosis was wrong. And yes, there is some wisdom in the idea that if the kid just had surgery, you should check for blockages just in case. In hindsight, I should have subscribed to that line of thinking. I should have asked her for an X-ray anyway. But I saw her point and hoped she was right, and it turned out she was wrong. Sorry.)
:(
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Hospital update
Cloud got an ultrasound. He has fluid buildup. They're currently discussing how/when/whether to drain the fluid.
He hasn't been admitted yet, but my husband is sure he will be eventually.
So... I dunno.
He hasn't been admitted yet, but my husband is sure he will be eventually.
So... I dunno.
Back in the hospital
AwesomeCloud is headed back to Children's. Daddy is with him today and tonight, if he stays overnight, and then I'll go up and stay with him for however much longer he's in.
We had a birthday party yesterday evening. (Thanks, Lia! The crochet marine invertebrates are unbelievably cool! Wow!)
So much for Easter, though.
We had a birthday party yesterday evening. (Thanks, Lia! The crochet marine invertebrates are unbelievably cool! Wow!)
So much for Easter, though.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
It's spring!
We had a health scare this morning. Cloud was not holding his food down right, his appetite had decreased, and nothing was coming out the other end. He cried a lot and his belly bloated up. After surgery on his digestive system, this was the last thing we wanted to see. However, it turns out he just has a stomach bug. Whew!
After 7 days without sweeping or scrubbing, the house collected 3 cats' worth of cat hair. I spent most of my rest time yesterday scraping hairballs out of the rug. It was actually pretty funny.
Ban Lu ran out of his special homemade food, and it turns out his tummy can't handle the high-end canned food by itself. So he accompanied Cloud in covering my house with throwup. Fortunately he did it on the bamboo floor. How I love my bamboo floor. So easy to clean.
My tooth infection is back. Owwwwww.
I burned the new batch of Ban Lu food.
The laundry piled up, but it has to wait until I'm done washing the things Cloud dirtied. I desperately need to scrub the tub, too, before anyone needs a shower, because that's where I stored the soiled items before I was able to haul them downstairs and wash them.
I have to work. Which is fine. I like to work. But work cuts into my cleaning time.
The problem with GI surgery and stomach bugs is that they require abrupt changes in diet. Maybe I should just pitch a tent at the grocery store.
In spite of all this, I'm happy.
My kid's more-or-less fine, my parents are here, we're going to see a baseball game tonight...
...and IT'S SPRING!!!!
It might hit 70 degrees this weekend. Wahoo! Seriously wahoo.
After 7 days without sweeping or scrubbing, the house collected 3 cats' worth of cat hair. I spent most of my rest time yesterday scraping hairballs out of the rug. It was actually pretty funny.
Ban Lu ran out of his special homemade food, and it turns out his tummy can't handle the high-end canned food by itself. So he accompanied Cloud in covering my house with throwup. Fortunately he did it on the bamboo floor. How I love my bamboo floor. So easy to clean.
My tooth infection is back. Owwwwww.
I burned the new batch of Ban Lu food.
The laundry piled up, but it has to wait until I'm done washing the things Cloud dirtied. I desperately need to scrub the tub, too, before anyone needs a shower, because that's where I stored the soiled items before I was able to haul them downstairs and wash them.
I have to work. Which is fine. I like to work. But work cuts into my cleaning time.
The problem with GI surgery and stomach bugs is that they require abrupt changes in diet. Maybe I should just pitch a tent at the grocery store.
In spite of all this, I'm happy.
My kid's more-or-less fine, my parents are here, we're going to see a baseball game tonight...
...and IT'S SPRING!!!!
It might hit 70 degrees this weekend. Wahoo! Seriously wahoo.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)