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.

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.

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.

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?

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:

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.)

:(

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.

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.

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.