The Lyons Family

So Long, Farewell

2009-05-11T14:18:00.000-07:00

In the past, when adoptive families whose blogs I've religiously followed have "shut down" said blogs, I've found myself nearly bereft. It often felt as though my glimpse into their journey was forced to abruptly end, long before I was ready for it to do so. I wondered, "Isn't it written somewhere that they must ask my permission before disappearing from sight on their trip down the yellow brick road?"

However, at this point, I must say that I understand the psychology behind it all. This blog, Seven Lyons, was originally created to document the journey to our Nina--a journey which, by the grace of God, is now complete. And I find myself not having as much to say about that journey specifically, and more to say about THE journey that is parenting five children amidst all the other crazy things David and I choose to do on a daily basis.

Don't worry; I'm not leaving cyberspace all together. I'm simply bidding adieu to this blog. If you'd like, please follow us on my new blog, ElizabethLyons.com/blog. Yes, it is my "professional" blog, but it chronicles (among other things) the antics of ALL of our kids, the hair-raising moments of a frazzled mother/wannabe organic gardener/aspiring zulu knot creator, and the 2-year-long process of house-training the most lovable Cockapoo on the planet.

I won't delete this blog. I hope it serves as inspiration and/or information for those embarking on the incredible journey of international adoption. And, of course, I need to get it printed out in some way, shape, and form so that Nina will forever have documented our journey to her.

I am incredibly grateful to everyone who's supported and befriended us along the way. The international adoption community is unlike anything I anticipated and it far exceeded my expectations. The friendships we've built, the connections we've made--albeit through cyberspace--and the support we've received have been tremendous. I cherish each and every one of you, and hope to maintain each of our relationships for years and years to come.

Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.

--Richard Bach

Happy 1st Birthday!

2009-04-20T19:06:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to Nina! We can hardly believe she's one already. Walking everywhere, into everything, and every bit as much a joy as the day she came home (probably more).

Formalities

2009-03-23T16:49:00.000-07:00

This post puts to rest (hopefully) many of the questions and confusion regarding the ins, outs, ups, and downs of re-adoption, obtaining a new birth certificate, obtaining a social security number, and obtaining citizenship for an adopted child born in a country other than the U.S.A.

Questions related to this topic have generated thousands of threads on many a blog and group site. There are about a kazillion ideas on how all this is to be done, and it's enough to drive anyone slightly mad. After many months, and many incorrect suggestions (including one directly from a state-sponsored attorney), I thought I'd document my experience with what has worked. We have only one step left, and I'm confident that I know how to do it (I hope).

*Please note: this is only my experience, and it reflects only Arizona processes. In addition, this information is valid only under circumstances in which a child was not granted U.S. citizenship upon entry into the U.S. If they come in with citizenship (as denoted by an IR-4 visa), the processes are likely a bit different (and probably a bit easier!).

Let's just start at the beginning, shall we?

Re-adoption
The first thing you need to do is go through re-adoption. Re-adoption is not required in every state, but the following states do not recognize a foreign adoption decree, so it's best, in these states at least, to go through the process of re-adoption.

Alabama
Arizona
Kentucky
Louisiana
Michigan
Mississippi
Nebraska
Nevada
New Jersey
New York
Rhode Island
South Dakota
Utah
Virginia
West Virginia
Wyoming
American Samoa
Guam
Puerto Rico
U.S. Virgin Islands

Keep in mind that if you presently live in a state that does recognize a foreign adoption decree, but you later move, your new state may not recognize the adoption. So, again, in my humble opinion, it's best to just do the re-adoption.

In addition, re-adoption is the only way to legally change your child's name. Considering that the formal name of most children coming from Ethiopia will read as their first name plus your husband's first and last name on their passport, changing their name may be something you consider essential. I doubt our daughter would be terribly pleased as a 16-year-old with David as her middle name!

We thought it would be fairly easy to do the re-adoption without an attorney and, as I understand it, it is in some states. Not Arizona. However, thankfully, the state of Arizona does provide a state-sponsored attorney to you at no charge to facilitate the adoption proceedings. The only charge we incurred was for our social worker's re-adoption report (much like a home study report only slightly abbreviated; it only requires one home visit) which had to be submitted to the state. This cost us $300.

Ask your social worker (the one who did your home study) who you need to call to facilitate re-adoption in your state. The woman we called in Arizona was Kim Redmond and she was lovely and very helpful.

The re-adoption process can take anywhere from 3 - 8 months, depending on when you get your court date.

Obtaining a New Birth Certificate
Once the re-adoption is complete, you'll go to the court house and go through a quick proceeding in which your child becomes legally yours according to Arizona law. You'll receive a formal adoption decree which you can (and will want to) have certified before leaving the court house. The cost for certification is, I believe, $28.

After this is completely, you'll want to apply for a birth certificate for your child. We were told that the Department of Vital Statistics would send us an application after they received and processed our daughter's information post re-adoption. This did not happen. So, be prepared that if you don't hear from them within 6 weeks or so you'll have to head down to the Department of Vital Statistics.

However, you'll have to head there in person anyway. You need to go to the Department of Vital Statistics office at 1818 N. Adams Street. They are open M-F from 8-5 but after 4:00 you can only get information, not apply for a birth certificate. So go before 4:00. Their phone number is 602.364.1300.

Whether you get the application via mail or print it out yourself from their online site, fill it out as follows:

Name: Your child's legal name as specified in the re-adoption
Date of Birth: as specified in re-adoption

Most of the rest of it is self-explanatory.

When you go, expect the DMV. Expect for it to take a while. If you can avoid it, do NOT take any children with you! You'll need your child's "foreign born" number, so if you don't know what that is, attempt to get it from the attorney who facilitated your re-adoption. This is the number under which your child is registered with, among other places I'm sure, the Department of Vital Statistics.

If you cannot obtain the foreign-born number from your attorney, simply tell the person at the "triage window" (yes, they do call it that) at the Dept. of Vital Statistics that you are there to apply for a foreign-born birth certificate for your recently adopted child but that you don't know what their foreign-born number is. They will likely send you to the Corrections room to obtain the foreign-born number. Once you obtain that, you go BACK to the triage window and get a number to get in line to apply for the birth certificate.

The reason you need to be there in person is that they will need to see the certified copy of the re-adoption, which I doubt you'll want to put in the mail. At $28 each, we only got one copy!

Then, you wait a while. I waited for about 45 minutes. When your number is called, you present your application, a credit card, debit card, or cash in the amount of $10 per certificate requested (though I hear it's going up to $15 per certificate as of 4/1/2009), and then you go home. The birth certificate is mailed to you within 5-10 business days (we got ours in 4 business days).

Social Security Number
In order to obtain your child's SSN, you MUST have a foreign-born birth certificate and you MUST appear in person at the Social Security Office. I HIGHLY recommend the office on North Tatum. It is north of Greenway and south of Bell on Tatum on the east side of the street. It's a big building and not hard to find. Go in and go around back on the left side of the building to Suite B.

It is very clean, and not NEARLY as crowded as the Social Security Office in downtown Phoenix. After confirming that I had not brought in a gun, a knife, any other weaponry, or pepper spray, I was given a number and quietly told to take a seat. So quietly that I said, "Huh?" to the security guard. Not so good. I waited only 3 minutes to be called to the window.

Present your application, your child's certified birth certificate, your certified re-adoption documents, and your child's Ethiopian passport and resident alien card. There was only one space on the application I was confused by and it was the field that asked whether my child was a U.S. citizen, a something-or-other, or other. The correct answer is "other."

It is free to apply for a SSN (finally, something is free!). They will likely tell you that the information didn't get through Homeland Security the first time, but this is only because the kids' info is often typed into Homeland Security's system incorrectly to begin with so it doesn't match and takes a human to look at it and approve it. It's all very efficient. :)

Your child's Social Security card should arrive in 2 weeks. If it does not, you need to return to the Social Security Office to inquire as to what the problem might be.

Citizenship
This is an area in which a TON of confusion has arisen. A few salient points:

- Your child is NOT a citizen of the U.S. upon entering the U.S. unless he or she comes in on an IR-4 visa.

- Your child is NOT a citizen of the U.S. upon finalization of the re-adoption (even though our attorney says otherwise).

- Your child is NOT granted citizenship by obtaining a U.S. passport. In fact, they should not be able to even get a U.S. passport without a valid foreign-born birth certificate, but I know a few folks in Arizona who have managed to get their child a U.S. passport without doing the above and think it gives them citizenship. I don't know, but according to the gal at the Social Security office, who truly seemed to know what she was doing, it does not.

Now, you CAN, technically, apply for U.S. citizenship without a SSN. So, you can do the citizenship application and the SSN application simultaneously if you want. But I like order and structure and one thing at a time so I say get the SSN first. But that's just me.

Once you receive your child's SSN in the mail, you can begin the application process for U.S. citizenship through Homeland Security. You MUST have an appointment for this. You cannot just walk in to a Homeland Security office the same way you can walk in to the Dept. of Vital Statistics or the Social Security Office.

The number/address for Homeland Security in Phoenix is:
2035 N. Central Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85004
800.375.5283

Call and make an appointment to apply for U.S. citizenship for your child.

Modify SSN
When you initially get your child's SSN, it will reflect "resident alien" status (which terribly confuses our other children who now swear that Ethiopia sits somewhere near Jupiter). When your child is granted U.S. citizenship, take the citizenship paperwork BACK to the Social Security Office and they'll amend your child's record to note that s/he now has U.S. citizenship. They don't get a new card or a new number; their status is simply modified in the system.

U.S. Passport
NOW you can apply for a U.S. passport for your child at your local post office. You'll need to take every bloody thing you've acquired to date!

If you have any questions about this process in Arizona, please feel free to contact me. I feel very well equipped at this point to open up shop as a How To Get Your Child All S/He Needs to Function as a Citizen of the U.S. of A. consultant!

What Can We Do?

2009-03-19T11:46:00.001-07:00

This was the first question I asked myself when I heard about Haregewoin's passing. After all, she has 50+ children, many of them HIV+, still living at her homes throughout Addis Ababa. Surely, these children are sad and scared.

The following was on Melissa Faye Greene's blog this morning and it shows us how we each can contribute something, should we so choose. It's amazing, truly, how much it costs to care for children in such a poverty-infected country. But, given that the cost of the washer and dryer for Hannah's Hope was nearly $20,000 (that is not a typo) it's not terribly surprising.

$1 may not feel like a large donation but if everyone who reads my blog in a month donated $1, it would be almost $1000 toward this effort (that's assuming that my parents aren't reading my blog 998 times a month, but who knows).

***********

THE CHILDREN!

2009-03-19

*from the blog of Melissa Faye Greene, author of There is No Me Without You.


Haregewoin Teferra  1946 (est.) - 2009


Dear Friends,

By now you may have learned the shocking news that Mrs.
Haregewoin Teferra has died suddenly after a short
illness. We don't know what caused her death; she felt
sick for a couple of days, went to the doctor, came
home without a diagnosis, felt sick again, laid down,
and that was the end.

We are grieving, yet we have no time to spare: 59
children survive her, many of them toddlers and babies,
the majority HIV-positive.

Worldwide Orphans--the New York-based organization that
has provided pediatric care to Haregewoin's children
for many years--has stepped into the breach. They have
assumed full custody of the 42 HIV-positive kids and
are prepared to take responsibility for the 17
HIV-negative children, as needed, most of them babies
and toddlers. Those small children are still at
Haregewoin's foster home; their caregivers have
stayed on; and the Atetegeb board has taken charge of
their well-being for the present.

These heroic measures come at high cost:  it is
estimated to require about $4,600 per child to cover
food, healthcare and medicine, education, clothing, and
caregivers. Once the children's basic needs are secure,
their paperwork will be sorted out: some may be
eligible for adoption, others may have extended families
in a position to take them in; others may find new
placements.

No one knows, at this moment, whether Haregewoin had made
financial plans for the children in the event of her
death. All that can be sorted out in the future. The
crisis is NOW: keeping the children fed and clothed,
paying the salaries of loving caregivers to act as
stand-ins for their late parents and long-devoted
foster mother, and making sure there is no lag-time
in their life-saving medical treatment.

At Little Atetegeb, for positive children


Haregewoin lived with these children seven days a week,
24 hours a day, for ten years. She is irreplaceable.

The youngest children, of course, have no idea what
has just happened. Please let us work together to
act as foster parents in absentia for them and to
provide financial sustenance to the adults on the
ground in Addis during this transitional time.

Thank you in advance for any amount you can give.

Online contributions can be made at  
https://salsa.democracyinaction.org/o/2669/shop/custom.jsp?donate_page_KEY=2749


Checks may be sent to:
WWO
511 Valley Street
Maplewood, New Jersey 07040

Sincerely,
Melissa

Haregewoin's children

An Angel Goes Home

2009-03-17T19:33:00.000-07:00

A little over a year ago, when the road we'd been pleasantly traveling suddenly dead-ended into a hillside named "Guatemalan Adoptions Now Closed mountain" (it really was called that, I swear), we weren't sure what to do. We wondered whether to turn left, or turn right, or turn around and simply go back to where we'd come from -- a place with our four beautiful (albeit unruly) kids and a bit less confusion over a message we thought we'd heard so clearly.

The first book I picked up in an effort to get some clarity was There Is No Me Without You by Melissa Faye Greene. It is a stunning story documenting Melissa's time in Ethiopia, first as a journalist and later as an adoptive mother of, ultimately, two Ethiopian-born children.

The book centered around a woman named Haregewoin Teferra (shown in the middle of this picture surrounded by many of "her" children). Haregewoin Teferrra was "a middle-class Ethiopian woman who found herself at the heart of a global health crisis...transformed her home into an orphanage and began facilitating adoptions to homes all over the world." It is a fantastic book, and one my mom bought and sent to a number of people prior to Nina's homecoming.

On the day of Nina's re-adoption, I was so blessed to meet the adoptive family of one of the children featured in There Is No Me Without You, to put a face with that part of the story that touched me so deeply. In fact, when I learned that this little boy had made his way all the way from Ethiopia to, of all places, Phoenix, I thought that, surely, that was just another sign that we were heading in the right direction, both literally and figuratively.

It was in reading this book that I knew wholly and completely that while I was initially so unwaveringly sure of our journey to Guatemala, the place we were meant to go was Ethiopia. I don't know how to describe the knowledge more deeply than that, but I know my friends with Ethiopian-born children understand what I'm saying.

I've been thinking lately that I need to re-read it, this time from the perspective of someone who's adopted from Ethiopia and been to Ethiopia as opposed to someone who's merely considering those activities.

Haregewoin died suddenly today in Ethiopia. Not many details are yet known other than that she called a friend and then died in her home.

Ethiopia has lost a true hero in the war against children without home or family. Tonight, Haregewoin is where she belongs, resting among all the other angels in heaven, having most rightfully earned her place there.

And tonight, to honor her for indirectly opening my heart so fully to welcome home an angel of my own, I will begin re-reading her story.

Water Is Life

2009-03-10T11:40:00.000-07:00

The family profiled below are friends of ours. Their daughter is in Grace's class. We think this is incredible and hope you'll be moved to help.

WORLD WATER DAY, March 22 - Phoenix Family Turns Off House Water for One Week to Save a Child's Life for a Year!

A Phoenix family turns off their house water for one week to save a child's life for one year!

This family of four will shut off their Phoenix suburban house water for one week. They will fulfill their daily water needs by carrying water in buckets from their 'water well' to their home each day, perhaps a few times a day if necessary. They will fill their buckets at the local well - the Verrado Village Sport and Health Club - and carry their water up Main Street to their home which is approx. one mile round trip. They have chosen to give up their house water as a representation of how challenging it is around the world to obtain clean water each day.

They are hopeful that they will generate awareness to help solve the global pure water crisis - all in honor of World Water Day. Watch and share in their daily experiences at www.waterislife.com.

They are giving up water for one week (Sunday, March 22 - Sunday, March 29) to save a child's life for one year. Their hope is that people will recognize and acknowledge their efforts by donating a simple $10 to save a child's life for one year. Each $10 donation purchases a water filter that hangs around a child's neck and filters out bacteria that causes waterborne diseases, which kills 4500 children each day. Visit www.waterislife.com for more information on how you can help, and to save a child's life from waterborne disease for one year. The water filters will be distributed in Kenya in August, 2009.

The family resides just outside of Phoenix, Arizona and includes two daughters, Picabo (13) and Livvie (10). They will be ready to shut off their house water on Sunday, March 22 at 5 pm in honor of WORLD WATER DAY 2009. (Maybe girls not so ready!)

Bring on the Zulu Knots!

2009-02-26T18:26:00.000-08:00

It's getting harder to do Nina's hair simply because she's mobile so she'd prefer to move than sit. But she's still awfully patient with me. I decided the other day that it was time to try Zulu Knots. Her hair is so long that when I made the initial ponytail and started wrapping it, I actually tied it in a knot and then wrapped it all the way around! Her hair is about 10 inches from root to end at this point if you pull her gorgeous curls out.

Be patient NeeNee, we're in for another hour of styling!
(She looks just thrilled, doesn't she?)

A close up - almost done!

Finis (and it lasted 3 days!)

As Promised

2009-02-20T10:08:00.001-08:00

The kids reading their Valentine's Day magazines from Grammy and Poppy. They each got a 1-year subscription to magazines by the Cricket group and they love them! (and Nina is enjoying Mama's National Geographic!)

The Nina

She'll be running around before we know it.

I found the neatest organization this morning. I've again taken up knitting (much to my mother's dismay, as I have to call her every 8 seconds asking, "Now the directions say to do such-and-such. What does that mean?" as though she can "describe" how to knit over the phone). I subscribe to the Lion Brand newsletter, and this month they are featuring a neat charity called Knit-A-Square.

Their tagline is: Knit a Square to Keep a Cold Child Warm.

You can read all about them on their site but, basically, they ask knitters to knit a square (or two, or seventeen) and mail them to them. They then mail them to South Africa where the Soweto Comfort Club (a group of women from a church in South Africa) stitch the squares together to create warm blankets for the children of the region who often suffer through cold nights with no blankets.

The site gives tons of information on the organization, the process, and even how to knit! I promise, knitting a square is an easy undertaking if you're patient. It's quick and very rewarding. Once you start, you may not stop! Who knows what is in your knitting future? Blankets, scarves, sweaters, booties, hats? The options are endless!

If anyone is interested in this, let me know. I may set a goal for Believe Impossible Things to collect xx number of knitted squares to send to Knit-A-Square and on to South Africa. Think how many blankets we could provide to keep children warm at night!

We can even do an online knitting tutorial for those of you interested in getting started. I promise, if I can do it, anyone can do it!

Come on Katie - you need to be rewarded with the joy of completing more than the eyebrow warmer you created 7 years ago!

Help!

2009-02-14T11:10:00.000-08:00

I promise, promise, promise new pictures are coming.

For today, I need a bit of help. Consider it a Valentine's Day gift. I won't get one otherwise. The kids won't even share so much as a Hershey Kiss with me.

I've entered a blog contest at JuiceBoxJungle.com. Frankly, it's a pretty cool site.

If you have a moment, would you go to JuiceBoxJungle.com, click on Current Episode at the top, and then scroll down and find my post underneath their video? It's presently #2 under the Most Recent tab. It's titled Dads of Twins: God Love 'Em.

In the narrow column to the left of each post summary are 3 categories: funny, helpful, & honest. All you have to do to vote is click on one (or all!) of the categories. I'd love to win funny, but I'll take anything! You can click on all 3 categories and cast a vote in each one, if you'd like.

I'm presently in 2nd place for Funny, so I need to call on all my peeps out there to give me a hand. I asked my kids for help, and then said, "Sorry Mom, we're heading out into the snow."

Super.

Thank you!

And I shall reward you with recent photos of my glorious princes and princesses within 72 hours (though this is dependent upon my glorious husband's photo editing timelines).

Not Any Other Saturday

2009-01-24T18:31:00.000-08:00

Today was interesting.

David went hunting in Sedona and took Grace with him. He dropped her off at her cousin's to spend the night. Both she and Casey (said cousin) were so excited that neither of them slept last night, so I don't know how well their plans to stay up until 2AM will go.

Anyhoo, here I was with Jack, Henry, George, and Nina until 4:30.

Now, you may have gleaned that I've been spending a lot of one-on-one time with Jack lately.

Grace and I have many girly days where we go shopping, out to eat, or whatever. We've also gone on several trips together.

I spent the vast majority of Henry's life with him from the age of 4 months until he turned 3. He was receiving so much therapy outside the house and I was required to do so much inside the house that we were pretty much connected to one another for many years. Not surprisingly in hindsight, Jack (even at only 18 months) often acted as the therapist's "assistant" with Henry. The kid could totally fend for himself while Henry wouldn't touch food or move a limb to get anything he wanted, so I thanked God for Jack's self-sufficient nature and went to grab Henry a rattle. Or a Cheerio.

George, as I've mentioned, didn't cut the cord until he was 3 1/2. He now wants nothing to do with me, which is somewhat upsetting, but he's a bit of a "Daddy's Boy" these days. Truly, he was on my hip, like an interesting fashion accessory, for the first 3 1/2 years of his life.

And Nina, well, Nina is obviously with me most of the time these days.

So Jack has sort of gotten the shaft, as they say. And I'm greatly enjoying making it up to him.

The kid is so multi-faceted it's unbelievable. He's athletic and domestic and kind and funny.

This afternoon I asked him to go with me on a mountain bike ride into...can you guess...the mountains. Our neighbors told us about a trail up into the mountains behind our house that sounded fun.

Of course, he agreed.

On the way up the hill (the very steep hill), I hear him behind me profess, "I love my life."

Now, most 7-year-olds love a lot of things: their toys, Wii, days off from school, ice cream...

But to say, "I love my LIFE" as a 7-year-old?

I somehow doubt that happens all that often.

It was the most Zen statement he's ever made --- totally void of materialism --- and only focusing on how beautiful the day was, the fact that he was out enjoying it on his bike and, I like to think, the fact that we were out and about together.

So then we head up to this trail.

Now, let me preface all this by saying that I was not wearing a helmet. But I survived. Barely. And I wrote Liz Helmet on the Target list the minute we returned home. My dad will have a heart attack over this. But, like I said, I'm fine. Barely.

Now, when you're mountain biking with your 7-year-old (and looking muy cool with the baby seat on the back of your most fab Diamondback mountain bike that was given to you by your fab husband 11 years ago --- and hasn't been ridden until...well...today...you know, because I got pregnant about 6 minutes after the gift was presented and stayed that way until...well...recently) and every 8 minutes or so that 7-year-old turns his head 180-degrees to the right to inquire, "Mom? You okay back there?" you start to feel a bit...well...old.

Then, we hit this huge downhill...all rocks...and, did I mention, I didn't have a helmet.

I told Jack, as we sat perched at the top of this very steep hill aware that there was nowhere to go BUT down, that this is why we wear helmets. So if you go over the handlebars and hit your head on a rock, the helmet protects your very delicate and important brain.

The whole way down I'm going, "Do not go over the handlebars. Do not go over the handlebars."

We made it, and Jack goes, "Mom, if we hit another hill like that, I'm going first. I think I need to test it for you. And do you have a CLUE where this path will end up?"

No sir. I do not.

So, another hill we hit and, as promised, Jack raised his hand and said, "Stop. I'm going first."

I truly felt like I was younger than he is.

So, after we made it down that hill (with the damn baby seat bouncing like mad the whole way down), Jack goes, "Mom, you really do need a helmet. Because if you fall and get hurt, I'll be lost."

"Jack, somehow I am quite confident that you would find your way home."

"Well, that's true," he confided. "But I wouldn't know what to do with your body."

Lovely.

I said, "Jack, this raises an excellent point. Next time we do this, I'm bringing (along with a helmet) my cell phone."

Jack says, "Yeah, you need to teach me how to use that. In case I have to get someone to come get your body."

Also lovely.

So, an hour later we finally arrived at an outlet from which I thought we could get home. And as we came up over the hill, we saw David, Nina, and George. David was like, "Good God - where did you come from?"

Jack answered, "Don't ask."

I love that I have 5 kids who are all SO different from one another that I can so clearly identify what it is about each of them that is special and unique. I can have 5 special and oh-so-different relationships at the same time. I know without doubt that two of them will scream at me for much of the day, two of them will be eager to go on any adventure with me, and one of them will do something amazing each day like clap or laugh or get a tooth.

As Jack said so well, I love my life.

My Girl

2009-01-22T13:03:00.001-08:00

Before I update on the Neenster (as George calls her), let me show you this fine image of my Jack. The other day, I asked Jack if he wanted to go to the mall with me. He darted upstairs to put on his new clothes AND style his hair.

Off to the mall we went. He learned very quickly how to spot a sale, and insisted on carrying all of my bags through the mall. He's 7!

He can just as quickly come home and grab his football and head outside for some throwing practice.

One day, he's going to be the best husband. He reminds me so much of David because he'll carry his wife's bags through the mall and then come home and sit down to the Superbowl. He's fantastic.

Henry will undoubtedly have to live with Jack forever since he refuses to pick up even a sock. In fact, he hung around all day the other day with only one sock on. Apparently, it was far too exhausting to find the other one (or take the one he was wearing off).

On to the Neenster. So, my girl spent most of yesterday under the end table in the family room. I don't know what this is all about, but I think she'll be a fort builder when she's 2.

She had her 9-month appt yesterday and she weighed in at 20 pounds, 12 ounces (80th percentile). She was 28" (70th percentile) and her head was in the 90th percentile (but, frankly, I think the nurse was challenged by the amount of hair Nina has, so it's possible that it's not quite as big as it measured).

She's doing great...crawling all OVER this house. She says "Mama" and "Hi" and will often clap when asked to clap. Her hair is finally beginning to grow down instead of out! Peek-A-Boo is by far her favorite game and she can often be heard just laughing at herself (or something!) for no reason whatsoever.

I truly never knew the joy I would feel being a mother to this gorgeous little girl! I am so thankful for her each and every second (though right now I'm really hoping she'll opt for a nap instead of continuing to yell "Mama" from her crib!)

A New 'Do for a New Year

2009-01-12T12:53:00.001-08:00

If you could hear Nina right now you would die. She just sits on the floor and plays and sings to herself. We are all having SO much fun with her. She's just got the best disposition on earth and she's ALL OVER this house. Crawling everywhere.

Last night, David was trading baseball cards with the bigger kids (I don't know who's more excited about this, the kids or David) and Nina was crawling right into their stacks of cards.

Jack was so good about it. He'd just joke with her and pick her up and put her on the other side of the room. But by the time he got back to his spot, she was already there! He had a great attitude about it though. Good she chose him and not Henry.

Here are some pictures of a recent hairstyle I tried. I got the idea from my friend Aimee. Only took an hour, but thankfully if you put a bucket of toys in front of her, she'll sit for that long quite happily.

She also now does the sign for "more" and laughs at herself in the mirror in her crib all the time. It's hilarious.

As Uncle Michael says, "What up, yo?"

"Like my farm? Me too."

Details of the 'do

A little humor...

2009-01-06T14:35:00.000-08:00

Maybe it's just me, but I laugh every time I watch this...

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T08:59:00.001-08:00

Here is a photo from yesterday, when the temperature was 72. Don't you just want to butter her up and have her for dinner? She's so fantastic. And she has hardly any hair. If you want to see the photo bigger, just click on it.

Another uneventful New Year's Eve is behind us. David and I made it until 10:30; it was a record. I had to see Dick Clark, who is a staple of my New Year's Eves, and I did that. Anything beyond that was gravy.

Today the kids made New Year's Resolutions. They were interesting.

George
1. Play soccer, football and games with my family.
2. Play with Nina.

I suggested that he could perhaps agree to actually sit by me for 2 minutes per day. He declined.

Henry
1. Sit by mom when she's sick (?) and other stuff.
2. Stop screaming and yelling

The "sick" comment likely is because I have no voice today. The kids are thrilled.
I can't wait for #2 to become a reality.

Jack
1. Play lots of games with my family.
2. Spend 1/2 the year doing everything with Papa and then spend the other 1/2 of the year doing everything with Mama.
3. Do things with Mama. Because no one ever does anything with Mama.

Amen to #3.

Grace
1. Finish my novel, Amazing Amy
2. Make new friends
3. Get straight A+ on report card
4. Stop chewing with my lips open
5. Save more money

She's not at all an over-achiever.

I'm only making one resolution for myself because I'm smart enough to know, at the ripe age of 36, that even one may not make it to fruition. But it's to finish MY novel (of which I've written a whopping 4 pages).

Okay, I do have one more. I'd like to get good at my guitar, which I've owned for 2 whole weeks. I'm terrified even to get it out of the case lest I can't play like Eric Clapton within 24 hours.

David won't let me post his resolutions. But they are very "organic," I'll say that.

Here are some photos from Christmas Eve:

Grace won't let an opportunity to get matching outfits for her and her sister go by!

This is as close to me as George got this holiday season. He is showcasing his watch from Aunt Mollie and Uncle Gary which was the hit of the season. Little did they know he'd been BEGGING for his own watch! It goes everywhere with him.
The boys. This is how we now photograph our family without an extra around to capture all of us together: boys in one shot, girls in another. The boys are wearing their shark tooth necklaces from Fiji, compliments of Grandpa Bill! They love them, and the sharks' teeth are really sharp! (I hope they don't decide to use them as weapons anytime soon.)

Happy New Year everyone!!

Newsflash!

2008-12-29T12:37:00.000-08:00

I have some VERY IMPORTANT BREAKING NEWS on my twins blog about baby bottles. If you have a baby in the house, read it! (If you don't have a baby in the house, read it; surely, you know someone who has a baby in the house.)

If you like me AT ALL, I mean even a teeny, tiny bit, do me a favor and post a quick comment -- not on this blog, on the GotCrazyTwins.com blog.

Note: I don't mean to totally direct you, but just so you know, GotCrazyTwins is not just me. Okay, it is. But the world at large isn't supposed to know that.

So, if you comment (please comment), while I'd SO love you to say "Liz, you are SOOO great!" do me a favor and just comment about how helpful GotCrazyTwins is, how timely the info is, how there's nothing like it, etc.

Then you can send me a personal message and tell me how great I am, if you really feel the need.

Thank you ever so much! You can consider this a birthday gift. Even though my birthday was 2 weeks ago. You missed it, didn't you. That's okay. You have a chance to make up for it. Consider this the best birthday gift ever. Albeit belated.

Click Here to see the post on GotCrazyTwins.com.

GotCrazyTwins.com

Tagsies and Good Coffee

2008-12-23T12:21:00.001-08:00

First of all, if you've not yet been to Nell Ann's Etsy store, Nifty Giftys, go there now. Don't pass go, don't collect $200 (unless you want to spend it all at Nell Ann's store), don't do anything but go to this site:

http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6196328

Nell Ann is selling these fantastic burp cloths and tagsies for both boys and girls, all with an African theme (or most, anyway, with an African theme). I ordered one for Nina and I must say that it's about 300 times better in person than it is in photos (and it was pretty great in photos). This is such a unique gift AND it helps support orphan care in Ethiopia.

Next, onto my morning with Ralph.

Ralph is the 80+ year old barista at the Starbucks in our local grocery store. I can't grocery shop -- and certainly not 2 days before Christmas -- without a latte in hand and thanks to Heather and Michael, I now have a gift card that will allow me 15-20 lattes depending on their size and whether or not I feel I need whip on any particular day. Most exciting.

Anyhoo, when Ralph scanned my Starbucks card and saw that I had $47 left, he said, "Wow! Nice gift card!"

"Yes," I replied. "From my fantastic peeps."

I think I lost him.

"You know," he continued, "The only thing better than using a gift card to buy yourself a coffee is..."

I seriously thought he was going to ask me to buy him a coffee. He should have. I would have told him to make it a venti AND add whip.

He pulled out a gift tin of Ethiopian coffee and said, "This precious gift tin of Ethiopian coffee is rare. It has sundried cherries in it."

"Is that good Ralph? Coffee with sundried cherries?"

"Well, ma'am, I don't know. But it sounds good. AND it's 20% off today."

"Wow!" I replied. "So how much does that make that fine tin of Ethiopian coffee with sundried cherries?"

"Well, today only," informed Ralph, "only $10!"

"Well, Ralph, that is most interesting," I noted. "You see, my daughter was born in Ethiopia."

"Really?" asked Ralph. "That is most interesting."

"I'll take it Ralph. You're a good salesman. Wrap it up!" I requested.

He leaned WAAAAAAY over so as to better see the card reader he needed to run my debit card through, and as he waited for it to respond, he looked up with only his eyes, looked at Grace, and inquired, "You mean that she was born in Ethiopia?"

"No, she was born in Illinois. My other daughter was born in Ethiopia."

"Oh, wow!" he exclaimed, slowly bringing himself again to an upright position. "So, what happened? Were you on safari or something?"

I paused. And then, I couldn't resist.

"Yes, Ralph, I was on safari and right there in the bush I had to hop off my elephant and deliver a child."

His eyes got as wide as prize-winning watermelons at the state fair.

"I'm kidding Ralph. She was adopted."

"Oh!" You could see him visibly deflate with relief.

"That's very cool!" he commented.

"Thanks!" I said. "And thanks for the deal on the coffee!"

"Sure thing," he said. "Just come back and tell me how it is. I need to know how that Ethiopian coffee with sundried cherries tastes."

You and me both, Ralph. I'll be sure to let you know.

Nina Update

2008-12-16T07:22:00.000-08:00

I realize I haven't posted pictures lately, so on this cold, rainy day (and by cold, I mean 50) here in Arizona, I did a little video of The Bean.

The child is HUGE. 20 pounds a couple of weeks ago. To put that in perspective, my niece weighs, like, 22 pounds and she's 7 months older than Nina! David says Nina's going to be the tallest Ethiopian woman ever. Of course she is. Because I'm the destined to be the shortest person in this family! She's also starting to "talk" which you can hear in the video.

Additionally, I got her ears pierced. For the record, I don't recommend this. I mean, I do, but I think that all moms who want their baby's ears pierced should have some sort of hired helper to take the child. It wasn't fun.

David, on the other hand, believes that any mother who would willingly put her child through this unbearable torture should have to endure it right there alongside her (screaming) child.

Needless to say, he did not accompany us.

But I think it was worth it, and this morning Nina looked at herself in the mirror, marveled over her beauty, and agreed. She said she's completely forgiven me and even thanked me.

(To be fair to those up-and-comers who are thinking of doing this but have not yet, while she cried for 90 minutes, after that it was a done deal. Hasn't so much as thought about it since.)

Happy Birthday to Me

2008-12-13T09:16:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me well knows that my birthday isn't a day. It's a week. It's a national holiday.

I don't know where this comes from. Possibly the fact that my birthday falls 2 weeks shy of Christmas and, therefore, I've sought out ways to differentiate it from the "other" December holiday. Possibly it's simple self indulgence brought on by the fact that every day is about every one EXCEPT me, and I use this occasion to focus on myself and force everyone else to do the same (usually against their will).

Anyway, today is the day. And for the first time in (gulp) 36 years I could care less that it's my birthday.

"Why?" you might ask.

(Whether or not you asked, I'll tell you. Because it's my birthday. And I'll do what I want.)

Because yesterday, December 12, I got the best birthday present anyone could ask for or receive.

For all of you who said a prayer for my sweet Heather, you were heard! After one month in the hospital, Heather delivered a beautiful (and I mean BEAUTIFUL) baby girl yesterday.

After one month of not complaining even once. After ONE MONTH of dealing with shots and IVs and conflicting information and hospital food (which, admittedly, looked quite good even to me), and no fresh air, and about 7 (bad) channels on the TV, and no Starbucks, and a sugar-free diet for, like, 5 days, and infrequent showers, and only one visit from her precious dog Churchill, and her amazing husband sleeping on a rock of a bed.

And did I mention? She never complained. Not once. Their favorite nurse, Brittney, even told Heather: "I've had a lot of patients. And you are the ONLY one who NEVER complained. Not once."

There is nothing that Heather and Michael would not have done and would not do for this baby.

At 28 weeks, their sweet daughter was expected to weigh a little under 2 1/2 pounds. But, as only she could, she surprised us all weighing in at 3 lbs. 4 oz.

This little girl AND her mother defied all the odds presented to them. As statistics were given (I hate statistics), I had to continually remind myself that while xx% of cases turn out in an unfortunate way, SOMEONE has to make up the remaining xx%, no matter how small a number that might be.

And so they did.

Truly, the time from when I heard Heather was going into surgery to the time we knew she was out and that both Heather and the baby had come through with flying colors was the longest 1 1/2 hours of my entire life.

I don't have an emotional bone in my body, but when Michael walked into that waiting room in his navy blue scrubs (which he was sort of swimming in) and announced, "You guys, she's doing great!" even the most unemotional person on earth couldn't keep it together.

Welcome to the world Giovanna Rosemary! I cannot wait to get to know you. We are going to have crazy cool co-birthday parties for the rest of our lives (and I'll even let them be all about you because you're just that great).

I could not be more proud to know Heather and Michael and I could not be more blessed to have them in my life. To watch them go through every minute of this experience together was awe-inspiring. I learned a lot. I have never known a couple so supportive of one another or in love with each other. And that love is what created Giovanna and made her the fighter she is.

I slept better last night than I have in a long time. All is right with the world.

Happy Birthday to Me.

Packages and Reality

2008-12-05T14:53:00.001-08:00

It's been a week.

Jack is 7. One of Jack's seven girlfriends (one for every year of his life, apparently) moved out of the area last week. When Jack announced this to us he said, "Paisley's gone. I'm just a wreck!"

The doorbell rang a bit ago. Everyone went running as though Santa himself had rung. I understand. There's not much excitement around here. So when the doorbell rings, the very idea of just who it could be is enough to get any of the kids up from their Wii marathon for a moment or two.

Not Santa. Just UPS. By the way, I love how the UPS guys wear red Santa hats this time of year. Hey - I just realized, it's sort of like it was Santa at our door.

Anyhoo, the UPS Santa left 2 boxes.

When I brought them in, the kids asked, in unison, "What is that? Who is that for?"

"They're Christmas presents," I answered flatly.

"For who?" Jack asked.

"Whom," I corrected.

"Huh?" he replied.

"Nothing. They're for nice people."

"Nice people?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. You know, people who are nice to me. Those are the people who'll get the presents."

"Well shoot," responds Jack. "Guys, don't get excited," he screams to his siblings. "The presents are for Michael and Heather."

Just another afternoon...

2008-12-02T16:40:00.000-08:00

Today, Henry began reading the Harry Potter series (out loud, while Jack sat 8 feet away reading Wacky Wednesday. Out load).

Henry: "Professor McDougal went..."

Liz: "McGonagall"

Henry: "Oh. It's a hard word to announce."

Liz: "Pronounce."

Henry: "Dad, this is so mean. Listen to this. 'Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.'"

George: "Is he bleeding?"

Henry: "NO GEORGE. THIS IS A BOOK! IT'S NOT REAL!"

Jack: (running in the door with his remote control dragonfly): "This thing is out of juice."

George: "I want some juice!"

Liz: "No, he means..."

George: "But I WANT SOME JUICE!"

Liz: "George, we're not having juice."

George: "But Jack is! Jack, you're going to be on the naughty list."

Jack: "No I'm NOT George! My dragonfly is out of BATTERIES!"

Henry: "Professor McDoogal..."

Liz: "McGonagall"

Henry: "Whoever."

George: "JUUUIIIIICE!!!!"

'Tis the season to be...insane. Oh, wait, that has nothing to do with any particular season.

New ventures

2008-11-28T13:58:00.000-08:00

Well, folks, after great amounts of stress (technology is hardly my thing), setbacks large enough to allow me the privilege of keeping Tylenol in business, and roadblocks the size of Rhode Island, I'm pleased to announce that my latest business venture has lifted off. Granted, it's barely off the runway, but hopefully it'll keep climbing.

This new blog/website, Got Crazy Twins (http://www.gotcrazytwins.com), will be filled with articles, audio files, video files, tips, humor, brain-cell boosters, must-have lists, favorite products, and much more to keep both expectant and seasoned parents of multiples happy and sane.

So, if you have twins, or know anyone who does, please check out the site or pass it along.

If you read (or listen to...or watch) a post that you enjoy, please post in the comment section of that post. That way, I don't feel like I'm hanging out alone in cyberspace. I'm lonely enough sitting on the corner of my worn out couch with my leftover green bean casserole and a dictionary as I determine the best words to include in the Word of the Day section for December -- you know, since we're feeling less intelligent by the second (hint: Word of the Day is included in the Sanity section of the site).

Thanks

2008-11-27T09:21:00.001-08:00

On this day of giving thanks, I wanted to say Thank You to everyone who helped fund the test Etagegne needed to take to get her nursing license. If you've no idea what I'm talking about, you can refer to this post.

As you can see from the photo below, Almaz arranged for Etagegne to take the test with the $500 we raised, and she passed. Thanks to you, this beautiful woman can now care for her family in a more reasonable way --- with one job that allows her reasonable working hours instead of three that only allow her to be home for a few hours each day (and probably don't provide nearly the income combined that her new nursing job will provide).

Thank you!

Togetherness

2008-11-19T13:14:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned, David is out of a job. In the short term, this is terrific because we've been passing in the night for, like, 9 years and we're thoroughly enjoying having our days to spend together and the bit of extra flexibility it provides with 5 children (as in, thank you that I don't have to take all 5 children with me to the gynecologist).

We'll worry about the long-term later. Like, after Christmas. David is spectacularly good at what he does (even though I'm not completely clear on what he does, but it has something to do with testing and quality assurance in the IT realm) and I know something will work out. But right now, he's very happy being one of the many men at the park who stand around and kibbitz about how long they've been out of work.

The word kibbitz made me think of Mollie. Mollie, if you're reading this, I miss you!

I told David not to worry about looking for a new job until after the holidays. "It's been a long couple of years," I said. "Take some time and enjoy the kids and your time. Go hunt something." (I can't believe I suggested that.)

Today we went to Target. (We're trying to stimulate the economy. Is that so bad?). I suggested we get some cans of soup for dinner. You know, to conserve cash.

"I don't want to buy cans of soup. I want to make my own soup," David announced.

Okay?

"But I don't know what to make. I can't focus. I don't have a recipe. Should we go home right now and let me look through cookbooks and come up with something and then we can come back?"

No.

He threw some items in the cart and agreed to figure it out later.

We then got to the toy aisle.

"Oh, look at the Lego sets," he commented. "These are fantastic. The boys would love these."

"David, have you noticed how many pieces that kit has? 753. Have you lost your mind?"

"No, but I'm just saying..."

I was already 2 aisles over.

"David," I inquired. "Didn't you say you needed socks?"

"Yes, but we're not spending money on socks. Can't you darn them?"

I almost didn't acknowledge that I'd heard him but my second personality took over before I could stop her.

"This is the year 2008. No one darns socks. Buy a freaking bag of socks."

"That's okay," he answered. "Socks can wait."

Okay?

And then, every aisle went something like this:

"David, we need wrapping paper."

"Can't we make that?"

No.

"David, we need formula."

"Can't you make that?"

No.

"David, we need shampoo."

"Can't you make that?"

No.

"Liz, I need eggnog."

Yeah, No.

By the time we exited, I said, "David, watcha doin' this afternoon?"

"Nothing, why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Feel like job hunting?"

It's Official!

2008-11-17T18:29:00.001-08:00

First of all, I would like to ask everyone reading this to take just a moment and say a prayer for my fabulous Heather (Nina's godmother) and Michael (Nina's godfather). I know that most of you don't know them, but I also know that the blogging community is so supportive and that when prayers are requested, they're given. And they work. Heather and Michael or so important to our family and they can use as many prayers as can be said right now.

Heather's water broke on Saturday. She's 24 weeks pregnant with a female gymnast (seriously, that baby flips around in her like nothing I've ever seen!) I simply ask you to say a prayer for the baby to stay strong and safe for a few more weeks and for Heather and Michael to be strong and stay positive.

On Saturday (National Adoption Day) we were able to finalize Nina's re-adoption. Re-adoption is required in some states. Arizona is not one of them. However, it was important for us to do it for two reasons:

1. It covers us should we ever move to a state in which readoption is necessary.

2. It allowed us to legally change Nina's name from Rahel David Lyons to Nina Rahel Elizabeth Lyons. This was most important, if for no other reason, because I'm getting tired of people calling and asking for the mother of Rachel!

We honestly expected it to be a rather sterile experience, but it was anything but that. Our judge was the kindest woman. She was so genuinely thrilled to officially declare Nina our daughter according to Arizona law. She said 21 judges volunteered their time on Saturday to preside over these hearings.

We can now apply for Nina's citizenship! This process, admittedly, stirs mixed feelings in me. Of course I want Nina to be a U.S. citizen and it's what her first mother wanted for her as well because of the opportunities she knew it would afford her. However, the U.S. does not recognize dual citizenship. So, to get U.S. citizenship, Nina has to renounce her Ethiopian citizenship. Now, Ethiopia does (I believe) recognize dual citizenship. So, until she's 5 (when her Ethiopian passport expires) I believe that Ethiopia still recognizes her as an Ethiopian citizen. But unless I want to travel back over there with her when she's five to renew that, she'll lose her Ethiopian citizenship then. And that makes me sad. I so wish she could have both forever.

Anyhoo, here are some recent photos:

Henry and Nina (don't you just want to eat her?)

This is her "What you talkin' about Willis?" look

All of us with Judge Eileen Willett at Nina's re-adoption

As you can imagine, Henry had 18,000 questions. Judge Willett answered them all. I told him that all he needed to know was that he needed to ask all of his questions now because this was the only time we intended for him to see the inside of a courtroom.

Judge Willett congratulating David

Grace in the judge's seat. The judge was taking off her robes so Grace could wear them, but Grace declined. Her exact response was, "Maybe next time." David said, "Yeah, there isn't going to be a 'next time,' so it's now or never!"

Judge George

Judge Henry

Judge Jack

Listening to the judge declaring us a family

Trim Time

2008-11-13T15:13:00.000-08:00

I caught a glimpse of myself in a full-length mirror at Kohl's yesterday and my first thought was, "Who lets their wife out of the house looking like that?" Then I realized it was me in the mirror.

So I called David. "How could you let me leave the house this morning in this condition?"

"Liz, you looked fine. Same as every other day."

Not reassuring.

I determined it was time to stop slicking my wet hair into a ponytail each morning and get a trim. I mean, it hasn't been cut since 6 weeks before I left for Ethiopia. I've been home almost 4 months. Tired of looking like a hobo.

And where does the word "hobo" come from? Probably the fact that David and I have been subjected to no fewer than 784 viewings of Kitt Kittredge in the last week. It's the movie du jour right now. And it's about hobos. Well, okay, not hobos per se. But the Depression. And there were hobos.

And in trying to find ways to stomach the movie yet again I've begun looking at it more closely for tips on how to save money these days since, according to all accounts, our economy is seeming a bit Depression-like. The only thing I've come up with is to have a chicken coop in the backyard and sell eggs for 15-cents a dozen.

So Henry asks, in the middle of his 457th viewing, "Dad, what's a hobo?"

"Well, it's sort of hard to explain," David answers.

"I know," responds Henry, making me wonder why he asked in the first place. "It's someone who does work for someone else and then kills them."

Um, no.

David then had to come up with a more Webster-approved response than "it's sort of hard to explain."

Grace chimed in because she's writing a book and knows all about these things. Not hobos, exactly. But depressive times. Her book is about a girl who was born in Paris but lives in London and has to go live at an orphanage called Snoggage in Scotland because her parents can no longer care for her after her dad loses his job.

This is only slightly comical as David just lost his job. However, the storyline started long before this occurred.

She's aware that Nina lived in an orphanage, but her fascination with such places started after she watched the American Girl Samantha movie in which Jenny comes to live with Samantha --- after she lived in an orphanage. These American Girl movies are killing me.

So while you might think my child has been irreparably damaged by having a sister who lived in an orphange for 14 weeks and a father who's lost his job, the reality is that, in our case, life is imitating art! Maybe she's got some sort of psychic ability. Who knows.

In any event, I hope Jamie, my haircut gal, is in a good mood today.

Sunday Hilarity

2008-11-09T08:34:00.000-08:00

Last night, The Beach Boys played a concert in our neighborhood (an extra 5000 people in the neighborhood made it a bit crowded!).

At one point, Michael said to Henry, "Henry, what do you think of the band? They're pretty good, huh?"

Henry's response: "Yeah. But why are they so old?"

**********

At breakfast this morning, Henry sat down next to George. Now, most mornings breakfast is full of a caucaphony of "Move over!" "You're too close to me!" "You smell!" and "Leave me alone!" --- all before 7:30 am.

This morning, as Henry sat down next to George and we braced ourselves for the onslaught of opposition, George says, "Thank you for sitting next to me my sweet love!"

David's still laughing.

Baptized

2008-11-04T06:47:00.001-08:00

As I mentioned, Nina was baptized this past Sunday.

Baptism is an interesting topic. People baptize their children at different ages, for different fundamental reasons. For some it's deeply personal and for some it's done in the name of tradition and/or fear.

I have most certainly fallen into both categories but I won't name which kid's baptism was a product of which mentality!

We didn't see Grace get baptized. Doesn't that sound absurd? It was. She was baptized at an Episcopal church in Illinois. We never really felt "at home" there, but we felt as though we should be there since I was raised in the Episcopal church, my grandfather was an Episcopal priest, and David and I were married in the Episcopal church (by my grandfather). David was raised Catholic but didn't desire to continue that tradition in his adult life. I didn't argue with that!

Anyhoo, Grace was baptized on All Saints Day (as was Nina, which was really neat) and there were six or so other children baptized with Grace. One of the families brought to the baptismal font seemingly everyone they'd ever met. Grace's godmother had to literally push her way to the front or Grace may have been inadvertently forgotten! It was an impersonal experience to say the least, and it was the last time we visited that church.

The boys' baptisms were done at a Lutheran church in IL that we loved. Their baptisms were personal and beautiful.

Nina's baptism was different from the other four. Not completely because of Nina per se but because the priest of our church (which is Episcopal) who happens to be a woman (who is unbelievable) made it so amazing.

On the two Saturdays prior to the baptism David and I met with Pastor Gae and she explained to us the entire history of baptism---the myths and facts---and helped us explore some of our own beliefs related to baptism, spirituality, etc. It was really great.

Two other families had their children baptized alongside Nina. Nina was the only infant.

My aunt made a GORGEOUS baptism gown for our family when Grace was born. She's monogrammed the names of each child who was baptized in it onto the slip. I didn't think Nina would fit into it, but she did.

When Pastor Gae took Nina from Aunt Heather and introduced her to the congregation prior to baptizing her, she told everyone that she was born in Ethiopia. This was when I went semi-puddle. Heather was 3/4 puddle. Even Michael and David were overcome with emotion.

After the service I asked David what it was that made the whole thing so emotional; we'd never gotten that emotional at the other kids' baptisms.

David hit the nail on the head. He said, "It was Nina's demeanor. She was just so peaceful the entire time, like she just knows she's meant to be here."

He was exactly right.

I stood there on the altar looking at her and thinking, "We didn't conceive this child. We didn't spend weeks taking my temperature and timing 'actions' and then spending months talking about how she got my nose or David's mouth. And yet here she is. And she's as purposefully our child as are the other four."

The entire journey of adoption was, for us, a very spiritual one. It required great faith in many things. And in that moment, on the altar, the realization of how perfectly this child was created for our family was completely overwhelming.

The confirmation she provides every single day that we were intended to be her family and the peace that she's always had about being here, with us, is humbling. And that's what made me overflow with emotion in that moment. That and a very sudden feeling that my grandfather was there. And a simultaneous reminder that she wouldn't meet him and vice versa on this side of heaven. But somehow, I have a sense that they've already met.

Yes, I know. I'm weird.

I'm not an openly emotional person, and the place from where my emotion came in that moment is the same place very deep inside from which I had to draw such faith in my belief that we were meant to travel halfway around the world to welcome this beautiful girl into our lives.

And then my hair caught fire.

Deacon Gaye gave us each a lit baptismal candle and as I was whipping my rarely worn down hair around while saying Peace to everyone around me, I heard a sizzle. And then I smelled burnt hair. Can you even imagine if my whole head had gone up right there on the altar? I would have forever been known as "that lady whose hair caught fire during the baptism."

Next week I'll have to get a trim to remove the burnt part.

Mom, I'm going to load these to KodakGallery, don't worry. It may take a few days. Until then, enjoy!

Pastor Gae and Nina

The whole crewGeorge and Nina

Jack and Nina

Nina with Aunt Heather and Uncle Michael

Nina and Liz
Nina and Grace

When you gotta eat, you gotta eat

Jack, Liz, and Nina

Henry

Grammy, Poppy and Nina

Nina and Aunt Heather

Sit Baby Sit!

2008-11-03T11:35:00.000-08:00

Nina was baptized yesterday and it was a beautiful service. I'll post pictures later today.

Yesterday afternoon, I sat her on the floor and this is what ensued. I'd tried the day prior and she just flopped over. But today was the day!

She's presently been sitting up for about 45 minutes playing with a new toy I bought her today. It's like a whole new world has opened for her...and for me!

As you'll see, she's obsessed with her hands. My mom and I think she'll either be a hand surgeon or a physical therapist. She spends hours just flipping her hands over each other and staring at them. She clearly finds them (and what they can do) fascinating.

Oh, and lest I forget to say it (because I think it often), I am so thrilled to again have an infant who can self-entertain for 1-2 hours at a time! It's been 7 or 8 loooong years without one (and instead with 3 infant boys who can self-entertain for a whopping 47 seconds --- on a good day.)

2008-10-28T13:00:00.001-07:00

Dear Dawn,

Ask and ye shall receive! Some new photos:

I love my exersaucer!

At the African Festival a couple of weekends ago at ASU
(the boys were off watching the hip hop dancers and Grace was trying to find
a temporary tattoo design that cost less than $10)

George at his school's field trip to a pumpkin patch (which is so NOT like
a pumpkin patch back east!)
George, Nina, and I at George's field trip

Growing and Car Ride Conversations

2008-10-28T10:23:00.000-07:00

Nina had her 6-month checkup yesterday. She's huge. 18 lbs (90th percentile), 27 1/2 inches (also 90th percentile). Completely perfect (but we already knew that). She'd roll from one end of the house to the other if you let her and is starting to form actual sounds (other than screaming or spitting everywhere).

So the other day I was driving the kids to school. Here's the conversation that ensued.

Henry: You know what Mom?

Liz: What Henry

Henry: Some of the girls in my class? Well, they think I'm hot.

Liz: (trying to remain calm) Henry, what does that mean exactly?

Henry: It means they think I'm cute and handsome and they want to be my girlfriend

Jack: And when a girl is hot, it means she's pretty and gorgeous.

Liz: Uh-huh. Can we just say people are pretty or cute? Can we not use the word 'hot?'

Henry: No. I'm hot. That's what they said.

Liz: Uh-huh. Henry, do you have a girlfriend? Because the last time I asked you said 'Absolutely not!'

Henry: Yeah, I have a few.

Liz: A few? How about one. I really think it's polite to have only one at a time.

Henry: Okay. Well then I pick Tiffany.

Liz: Why Tiffany?

Henry: Because she has big front teeth like I do.

Liz: Uh-huh. It's important to choose someone with whom you have something in common.

Jack: Well, I still have 6 or 7 girlfriends. And I'm not going to have just one. I mean, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

Always the sensitive one....

Tagged

2008-10-21T12:41:00.001-07:00

Okay, I was tagged by Trendy Mindy. And thank you, Mindy, because this tagging thing has been going on for weeks and I was beginning to feel left out.

I'm supposed to post 7 interesting/random facts about myself. I'm not real interesting, so this could take the rest of the year.

1. I am thrifty to the core when it comes to clothing. If it doesn't cost less than $10 I won't buy it. This is because I simply KNOW that within a few weeks, almost any item in any store will be reduced to less than $10. Nordstrom's items, kids' shoes, and my every-other-year pair of UGGS are the exceptions.

2. I'm an aspiring gardener. This dream was enhanced after reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. I'd love to grow everything we eat (except for meat, obviously) in our backyard. The problem is that I do not have a green thumb. Or even a yellow thumb. I planted 28 varieties of seeds two weeks ago and only 3 varieties are sprouting. But that's better than last season. I also recently purchased a composter. But it's not working either. It's just a bin full of stuff that won't compost. I've done more research on composting than I have on why kids whine. Still not working.

3. I am incapable of finishing one book before I purchase (and begin) another. It's an illness. I'm presently reading about five. It stalls any feeling of real accomplishment in my life.

4. I am in love with koala bears. If I could go back and do it all again, I'd be a speech therapist or a zoologist working with the koalas. Or the dolphins. Though I think marine biologists work with dolphins. The mere fact that I don't know indicates that I haven't the brains to be one.

5. The cold hard reality is that I couldn't do either of the above because I could not pass Bio 101. I didn't even take Physics in high school because there was a very rational fear on the part of my parents, teachers, and myself that it might prevent me from graduating (and that was after I narrowly escaped accidentally blowing up the school in chemistry).

6. I am positively terrified of snakes. Just the idea of them raises the hair on my arms. I recently touched one for the first time at a zoo event because the kids wanted me to and I thought it was the motherly thing to do. But it was awful. My next door neighbor accidentally kicked a 5-foot rattlesnake the other day on the sidewalk 500 feet from our house. I'm now afraid to go outside. I think I might become an agoraphobic.

7. I know next to nothing about U.S. history, politics, or geography. This is why I won't play Trivial Pursuit. I feel very uneducated after playing. I know a lot about OTHER countries, other countries' politics, geography, etc. Just not the U.S. I blame this on my social studies and history teachers as I believe that if they'd made it interesting enough I would have paid attention. But now, in my old age, I'm finding some of our country's history interesting enough that I'm proactively learning. I devoured the John Adams miniseries on HBO and I'm very slowly working my way through Don't Know Much About History (because I don't).

I now tag:
Karen Y.
Laurie H.
Nell Ann G.
Martha H.

You may already have been tagged by someone. But just go with it.

Too Many Questions

2008-10-13T20:59:00.001-07:00

First, I finally have a new blog post out on MomLogic. Check it out if you're interested; it does have to do with having a new baby in the house!

And now, on to my thoughts as of late...

I'm used to being asked a lot of questions. I'm used to having a lot of opinions thrown at me.

You see, in case you didn't know, when you have multiples, you are a bit of a freak show.

This makes perfect sense. I mean, there aren't many multiples in this country, so when people see them they go nuts.

Did you say, "Huh?" yet?

I thought so. Sorry. I got sarcastic for a second. There are TONS of multiples in this country. They are everywhere I look. I rarely go a day without seeing at least one set of twins while out and about (not counting the two sets at George's preschool alone). Celebrities are having them en masse, as though twins are the new Grammy or something.

When Jack and Henry were born 7 years ago, I could not go anywhere without being asked questions or being on the receiving end of some person's opinions when they learned I wasn't breastfeeding, wondered whether or not I'd ever thought of breastfeeding, or felt me up in Lowe's as they wondered whether or not my boobs were even large enough to feed two children to their respective points of satiety.

I learned to focus my eyes straight ahead and not make eye contact with anyone. When you make eye contact, you invite questions and comments. I'm very good at staring straight ahead.

I sometimes talked to myself, too, so I'd appear less than sane. No one wants to engage a less-than-sane person in a conversation. Unless they have infant twins with them. So sometimes I'd talk to myself and hum to make people really nervous.

I soon realized that, on a very small scale, I understood a bit what it must feel like to be a celebrity. Everywhere you go, someone wants something from you. In the celebrities' case, it's an autograph or a photo or some such thing. In my case, it was information on what position a couple must "do it" in to conceive multiples or how bad the C-section was (and when I mentioned that I didn't have a C-section, the conversation turned to how my va-jay-jay could ever have survived such an experience).

I simply could not go anywhere and do my thing invisibly.

Once Jack and Henry turned two or three, strangers stopped noticing us. And I noticed them not noticing. It made me sad for a while because by the time Jack and Henry were two, I needed people to notice me. Anyone. I had been living a very one-dimensional life with twins and a toddler for so long that I'd engage the pesky late-afternoon telemarketers and would have answered any question asked of me no matter how personal. I may have even willingly shown my boobs if asked nicely enough. I'd have done nearly anything for a little adult conversation.

Much of the public's sudden lack of attention likely stemmed from the fact that Jack and Henry look nothing alike, so most people didn't think they were twins. In fact, when I mentioned to folks that they were twins, I occasionally ended up in conversations that included a lot of "No, they really are," on my end. Like it was my job to convince people. But again, desperate times call for stupid debates.

I accepted that tooling around with two infant car seats is, apparently, just adorable. Tooling around with two screaming toddlers who look no more similar than next-door neighbors is, apparently, not.

I quickly got over the loss of strangers' affections and was glad to be able to go out and about again with anonymity.

I now realize that I'm back in that place. That place where I cannot leave the house without taking a deep breath and preparing for the onslaught of stares, questions, and comments.

And, the reality that these comments are likely to continue---possibly even increase---as Nina gets older, is not an idea about which I'm ambivalent.

I love that people are interested in Nina. I do. I'm very proud to be her mother. I love that most people think she's so beautiful. That they think she looks like "a doll." And some days, if one more person says, "She looks just like a doll. She really does. Honey, come here. Look at this doll...I mean baby...," I think I might lose it.

Some days, I just want to buy a freakin' squash. And some days, Nina just wants me to buy a freakin' squash and get the hell home. And some days, Nina's brothers and sister want everyone to stop making such a fuss over Nina so we can buy the freakin' squash and go home so they can play Wii and fight with each other some more.

Last week in California, I had Nina in a stroller in which she was forward facing. Big mistake. The beauty of having a baby facing you while riding in a stroller is that, to see her face, onlookers must stand where you're standing. Hence, you have an exit. When the child is facing forward, the strangers must stand RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU to see the child. And, most often, your only option to get away is to run them over.

I'm tired of being blockaded in the cereal aisle when I need to get to produce. Especially when the 4-year-old is holding a box of Apple Jacks and screaming, "PLEEEEEAAAAASE!!!!!" while the stranger is asking me why anyone would give away such a beautiful baby and not noticing (or caring) that I need her to get the hell out of the way before I (not to mention the 4-year-old) blow.

So after that particular stranger-of-the-moment moved on from "What happened to her birthparents?" to "She looks just like a doll," I had to politely say, "Yes, she does. And I've really got to get the doll's siblings and, thanks to you, this whopping box of Apple Jacks out of the store now. Have a great day!"

Idiot.

One day recently, Grace said, "Why does everyone pay so much attention to Nina?" I said, "Because she's a baby. Everyone loves a baby."

"Did everyone talk to me that much when I was a baby?" she asked.

"Yep!" I lied.

Again, I love that everyone is interested. I love the opportunity to show people a different side of Ethiopia from the swollen-bellied, fly-infested images they've seen over the TV for the last decade. I love to spread the word that there are many beautiful dolls---I mean children---in Ethiopia waiting for loving families who are willing to share their homes and their lives and their hearts (and, if they can get out of the grocery, a box of Apple Jacks and a freakin' squash to boot).

I do.

But I'll admit it. I'm waiting for a day when Nina can just be a daughter and a sister. When we can go out and be "just a normal family" trying to buy bushes or sheets or lunch. When Nina's not a walking advertisement (or a strolling advertisement, as the case actually is) or the focus of everyone's eyes and curiosity.

A day when I can point toward a faux Christmas tree in Lowe's and ask David WHY they have these things out in October when it's still 100 degrees in Phoenix without giving it my all to ignore, while being painfully aware of (and I do mean painfully), the fact that there are 3 pair of eyes intently focused on us as though we were Brangelina themselves.

I'm waiting for just. one. day. when I can run an errand...or two...or six...and just run the errand. Just Nina and me. Or Nina and me and Grace and Jack and Henry and George (because that's as many people as will fit in the car). A day when no one asks questions. No one points. No one says the word "doll." No one stands between my stroller and the produce aisle. No one mentions birthparents or AIDS or luck.

Just one day.

I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not.

I'm just sayin'.

Too Much Information

2008-10-12T20:46:00.000-07:00

Thank you, Karen, who pointed out that I'd forgotten to post my newest best answer to "What happened to her birthparents?"

If you know me at all, you likely suspect that my answer may be something cunning and sarcastic. But that would be incorrect...in this case. I actually got this idea from someone locally and it happened to come in very handy about 48 hours after I learned of it.

Here's what you say: "You know, there's just a lot we don't know."

The reality is this: if you insinuate that you know ANYTHING, most people will assume that it is their inherent right to know all that you know. It's unbelievable and I wouldn't have believed it to be true if I hadn't seen it and heard it about 368,000 times in the last three months.

Saying that you met the birthmother is often the biggest mistake. When you acknowledge that you did, the questions come like a flood. To any questions you don't want to answer, or don't know the answer to, people will make assumptions. Out loud. I have found myself wanting to protect Nina's birthmother almost as often and as fiercely as I've found myself protecting Nina!

So, if asked by a stranger, I now won't even admit that I met the birthmother. Who cares? Nina will know the truth, and I know the truth, and that's all that matters.

If asked by a friend, I'll acknowledge that I met her and, depending on the depth of the friendship and the motivation behind the questions, there is information I may or may not reveal. But I can count on one hand the number of friends to whom I'd release this information.

If you open up about a bit of a child's history, people start to guess regarding the rest. Most of the time, you know they are guessing wrong, and you so badly want to correct them (because their guesses are almost always negative) but to correct them you'd have to mention that, in fact, you know more than you let on. So you're stuck in this awful situation with an idiot who you want to run over with your stroller, but most of you are too nice for that so, like I, you just stand there with this fake smile plastered on your face wondering what you can to do get out of the situation.

On at least one occasion, I've thought of saying, "Oh, I think my water just broke!" No, I'm not pregnant. But some of these folks are seriously so lacking in brain cells that this might work.

I'm going to try it soon.

It can be very hard to have people make assumptions about your child's life or family. People say, "Oh, her mom probably died of AIDS." Or, "Oh, how could anyone not WANT such a beautiful baby?"

And then I realize that these idiots will say these idiotic things right in front of Nina when she gets older. Trust me on this. I've seen it with our twins. Specifically on the day in an elevator when a woman asked me, in front of the 5-year-olds, which one was smarter.

20 seconds after exiting the elevator, I answered, "Smarter than you? Both of them honey!" but she was driving away by then. I'm never real quick on the trigger because I'm usually too much in shock to respond immediately. It's too bad because I've come up with some real doozies once folks are in their cars driving away.

Idiots are idiots and their idiot-ness knows no boundaries. I mean, if they are dumb enough to say something dumb to begin with, does anyone really think they are smart enough NOT to say it in front of the child (or children) to which they are referring?

They're not.

So, we now stick with, "You know, there's a lot we don't know." People don't know how to push you on this. If you don't know, you don't know. They'll make assumptions, but hopefully you'll be long gone by then.

I heard another story recently that further cemented my desire to tell very little about Nina's history. A local friend was at a fundraising event with her Ethiopian infant and an Ethiopian woman who lives in the area came up to them and was asking lots of questions about her daughter's history. The mom (my friend) was very open, thinking that because this woman was Ethiopian herself, she'd appreciate the information and it would make sense to her. Well, based on what the woman heard, she began making some assumptions. She then felt the hair of my friend's daughter and made further assumptions (silently). She then walked away mid-conversation and will not engage in conversation with them anymore.

My friend learned through another Ethiopian woman who was there that this particular woman was from one tribe in Ethiopia and, based on my friend's daughter's history and hair texture, this woman assumed she was from a different tribe (with which her tribe did not associate under any circumstances). My friend felt that, by saying what she'd said, she placed a big target on her daughter's back. In the interest of her daughter being able to connect with as many Ethiopians as she can here in the U.S., she's decided to say nothing about her history in order to protect her from being shunned, possibly based on a misinterpretation.

I realize Nina sort of stands out, but what makes people think that all of our children don't have some sort of fascinating story behind how they came to be a part of our family? Assumptions are simply never smart.

A woman said to Nina the other day (as though Nina can answer), "Oh my, and where are YOU from?" I so wanted to say, "Um, my uterus?" just to teach her not to make assumptions. But I refrained. Aren't I nice?

Nina has a story. Grace, Jack, Henry, and George have stories. We all have stories. It doesn't mean that everyone has a right (or a need) to know them.

Just because the fact that you have "a story" is made more obvious by the fact that you're a fantastically gorgeous African child with unbelievably fantastic hair being toted around by your less-than-gorgeous white mother with bad, bad hair does not mean that your story must be shared with every Tom, Dick, and Harry who passes by. Did I mention Dick?

And, as I've learned, some people suffer from a bit more than idle curiosity.

So, for many reasons, the most important of which being a child's privacy and right to be proud of who she is, I think that "You know, there's just so much we don't know" will be my answer of choice going forward.

Next, stay tuned for thoughts on TOO MANY QUESTIONS! (because, these days, there simply are!)

Seven!

2008-10-07T11:23:00.000-07:00

They can only be serious for about 2 seconds...

Then Jack starts goofing off and Henry can't help but laugh and try to hide it. The photo shoots typically end here.

Do you remember when George Costanza of "Seinfeld" fame suggested naming a child Seven? Or Soda?

I didn't go so far as to name any of our kids Seven (though we came close to naming George "Four" as David waited until thirty minutes after George's birth to engage in a naming discussion with me, beginning by paging through his corporate directory and muttering "No...No...No...How 'bout Lance? Like Lance Armstrong?"

No.

"...Tristan?"

NO!

And on it went until he left the room for a soda and I called the birth certificate department and told them to put George David on the certificate and call it a day. When he returned, I told him it was George David or Four. I think he'd learned by that point not to mess with me until at least 72 hours post-delivery, so George it was.

Anyhoo, I digress (again).

Today, Jack and Henry turned seven.

I lazily lay in our less-than-optimally-comfortable hotel bed this morning and was reliving their delivery in my mind (which isn't the most pleasant of memories, frankly. Worth it, but not terribly pleasant) when someone with a very loud voice started poking me (hard) and yelling, "GRACE! GRACE! WHERE IS JACK?"

"Henry," I answered. "I don't know. I'm sleeping. And I'm not Grace."

He trotted back into the living area and opened the door over and over hoping to catch a glimpse of his brother, undoubtedly to scream to him that it was their birthday (just in case Jack didn't know).

I called him back into the bedroom and said, "Henry, Happy Birthday!"

"Happy Birthday," he responded.

"Henry, it's YOUR birthday. You don't have to wish ME Happy Birthday."

"I wasn't," he clarified. "I was wishing myself a happy birthday."

Happy 7th to the sweetest, loudest, craziest, most creative, most frustrating, most lovable, most terrifying, most amazing 7-year-olds I know.

Breakfast Table Conversation

2008-10-03T07:31:00.001-07:00

Okay, so truth be told I don't sit at the breakfast table having conversation with the kids in the morning. My pediatrician would chastise me for this, yet I doubt she does it with regularity either. I spend my mornings standing like a cheerleader in the middle of the kitchen (or while running from kitchen to laundry room to office to bathroom) directing people to "finish eating," "stop talking," "get off the dog," and "bring me your folder for god's sake so I can sign it ONCE this week." And not necessarily in that order.

This morning, Jack was paying little-to-no attention to my requests to bring me his folder because he was too busy talking about how he got invited to Mateo's birthday party but Henry didn't because only Jack's class was invited.

Here is the conversation that ensued when I was close to my breaking point.

Liz: Jack, if you can't bring me your folder, I can't call Mateo's Mom and let her know that you'll be coming to his birthday party

Jack: Well, you can't call Mateo's mom anyway. Mateo doesn't have a mom. He has two dads.

Liz: Okay. That's fine. Just don't tell Sarah Palin.

Henry: He has two Dads?

Jack: Who's Sarah Painting?

Henry: Sarah's painting what?

Liz: Omigod, forget it.

The Heart of an Angel

2008-09-29T14:13:00.000-07:00

Today, Nina had her appointment with the cardiologist after her initial appointment had to be rescheduled due to lightning striking the hospital the night before!

As many of you know, when Nina was referred to us we were informed that she had a congenital heart condition called a VSD. VSD stands for Ventricular Septal Defect and it's basically a hole in the heart between the wall, or septum, that separates the two ventricles (which are the two lower chambers of your heart). You can have a muscular or a membranous defect, and we knew Nina's is muscular which, if you're going to have one, is the one to have.

We were relatively confident based on ultrasound images and other diagnostic information from Ethiopia that the hole was small and would likely close over time. We also knew that if she had a serious defect, she wouldn't be thriving. And, for the record, a VSD is not uncommon even in this country. But, we still needed to consult with the pediatric cardiologist here to get a full assessment and path forward. Because, lest we've forgotten, the wise 12-year-old working at the U.S. Embassy in Ethiopia informed me that "medical care is better in the U.S. than it is in Ethiopia."

Shocking.

After I filled out pages and pages of paperwork on which I had to continually note "Not Known" next to umpteen questions about her family history (can you say "insert knife and twist?"), the door opened and I watched a sweet young tech as she mindfully wrestled with her options.

You see, when you have an uncommon name, teachers and medical personnel alike tend to pay the price.

"Rah...Ray...Rah...Lyons?"

Very close. Good save.

We spent 30 minutes attempting to get an EKG, blood pressure, pulse ox etc. on this child. This very squirmy, unnaturally happy child who thought I'd taken her to an amusement park for the day. Honestly. She was chewing on all the leads, the blood pressure cuff, you name it. And, if you move during an EKG, it's over. It was over about 38 times before we got anything close to acceptable.

Then it was time for the ultrasound. While on the exam table, Nina began wondering what she could next chew to smithereens, and the tech began doing the scan. The tech also began venting about Sarah Palin.

Honestly, there must be a lesson for me in here somewhere. I'm too tired to find it. But what I can tell you is that I am SO SICK of hearing about Sarah Palin, one way or the other.

So there I was, intently watching the screen as the tech droned on and on. I caught only every 6th word or so, but I unfortunately caught enough to know that her monologue had something to do with Planned Parenthood, an e-mail campaign, and the acquisition of MY email address, which was not going to be forthcoming.

Anyhoo, about 7 minutes in (was it only 7? Because it felt like 107), I interrupted her diatribe by saying, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what exactly are we looking at here?"

I realize she must have been shocked to learn that I actually was more interested in the state of my daughter's heart than her thoughts on whether Sarah's poor 17-year-old daughter should be forced to marry "a thug" simply because she is carrying his child.

"These are the ventricles," she explained as she pointed them out on the screen.

"...and can you even beLIEVE that people do not like Michelle Obama?" she continued. "Because..."

"No I can't believe it. Now, I'm no expert [insert tech's name], and I'm sorry to again interrupt, but are those TWO flows from her left to her right ventricle?"

"Yes. I think so. But don't tell the doctors I told you. I'm not supposed to do that. But she seems to have two VSDs. Now, did you see the way that McCain did not even LOOK at Obama during the debate, because..."

"I'm sorry. Excuse me again. Did you just say she has TWO VSDs?"

"Well, I think so, but again, I'm not a doctor and..."

At this point, I completely tuned her out. Didn't catch even every 6th word. I determined that, over the course of the next 21 minutes, I was going to become an expert on the heart as seen on ultrasound. Poor woman didn't have a chance. Didn't have the opportunity to provide another opinion on anything, political or otherwise, because she was suddenly bombarded by little old me with questions like, "Is that blood supposed to be flowing from her ventrical to her atrium? Because I think it is. Oh, that's normal? Okay.

"Why is the wand now in her neck? Are you looking at her carotid artery? Yes? Is it normal? Oh good.

"What's the systolic gradient of the VSDs? How do I know about that? Oh, honey, I don't know if you've met my very best friend but his name is Google.

"What? No one else on earth listens to you vent? Clearly. Save it for the next patient. Now..."

Anyway, the verdict was that she likely has two VSDs. Very small ones, though, and they should not affect her in any way short- or long-term. She'll get some follow-up visits and ultrasounds with the hope that we'll confirm that the holes have closed, which will hopefully happen by her 4th birthday.

She's clearly not suffering from any major heart condition, as she weighed in at 17 POUNDS and 27 INCHES. This means that she's grown 8 inches in 5 months and has put on 7 pounds since coming home two months ago! Yeesh.

She also continues to be an angel. Every time they did something, they'd say, "She probably won't like this," and I continued to respond, "You haven't treated a kid like this yet. Trust me." She smiled at everyone, never cried, and even after going 6 hours without a nap finally sank into her stroller, closed her eyes, and went to sleep as I talked to the nurse. We never even noticed!

I shudder at the very thought that David and I ever looked at one another with raised eyebrows, slowly and sadly shaking our heads in silence, as our case manager explained that she had a beautiful baby to tell us about but that we had to be very cautious because she had a heart condition.

We were shaking our heads because we heard "heart condition" and envisioned months living at the hospital while corrective measures were undertaken. With 4 other kids at home. And no family living nearby. Am I crazy? Yes. Am I clinically insane beyond measure? No. Not yet.

To be perfectly clear, a special need doesn't faze me in the least. But with 4 other kids at home, I could not manage the idea of living in a hospital with a baby for an unknown period of time. You deal with things that come up of which you were unaware in advance, but to know about something challenging in advance and take it on requires, for me, a different family dynamic than we have at this time.

Even with what limited information we had, David and I never considered turning down Nina's referral. The doctor's assessments gave us great comfort, but the specialists all insisted on speaking "off the record" and we didn't know what we'd learn once we got her home. We were a bit nervous as I prepared to leave for Ethiopia because, at 13 weeks of age, she still weighed under 10 pounds, had been hospitalized once with pneumonia and, not having laid eyes on her, we weren't 100% comfortable that all was copacetic.

The very idea that we could have been frightened enough of the possibilities not to accept her referral is something I cannot even think about. I simply cannot imagine not having this kid in our world. I mean, really, just LOOK at her!

To entice you to come back next time, I've found THE answer to be used when people ask what happened to your child's birth parents (and you don't want to answer). Stay tuned!

Calling All Angels...

2008-09-24T13:13:00.000-07:00

So, here's the update on Believe Impossible Things...

I was able to communicate with Almaz the other day regarding the $500 for Etagenge's nursing license. She assured me that Etagenge is ready to take the test, and that Almaz will get all this moving when she gets back to Ethiopia in October (she's still in the States). She also confirmed that she'll be able to send a photo of Etagenge when she gets her license, which I cannot WAIT to show all of you!

I've mentioned an organization before called Charity:Water. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, scroll down a few posts or go check out their website. One of the things I greatly admire about this organization is the way in which they are able to pass every cent of every donation directly to the cause for which it's intended. The way they do this is by using private funding for salaries (for the record, Believe Impossible Things will not compensate anyone with salaries for the foreseeable future, possible ever). They also rely on donations for web design, logo design, stationery, office furniture, etc.

I love this concept. Allow me to use a well-known example to demonstrate one of the things that's always bugged me about charitable giving: The United Way. The United Way does a lot of tremendous things, no doubt. But donations often go into a huge bucket and, in the end, I don't want to find out that my $30 donation paid for the leg of an office chair. I want to know that my donation fed a hungry child in a third-world country for six months. Also, the CEO of The United Way makes an ungodly amount of money. Again, I know she (I'm pretty sure it's a she) works hard. But I don't want my $30 donation filling up half of her gas tank.

As a donor, I like to know where my money is going and whom I've directly affected. I want the same for all of the donors to Believe Impossible Things.

The office of Believe Impossible Things is, at present (and for the foreseeable future), right here in my living room. I'd love someone to donate carpet or an unstained chair, but that would be for personal pleasure, not business need so I won't ask for it.

What I do need is the following. If anyone can help (or knows anyone who might be willing to help), please let me know.

Assistance incorporating. Several years ago, I met with a friend of a friend who is a non-profit attorney here in town about forming a different charitable organization (that didn't ever come to be). He was going to charge me $3000 to form it (before filing fees). I'm HAPPY as punch to pay the filing fees. But is there an attorney out there who would be willing to fill out the paperwork pro bono? Or, is there an attorney out there who would advise me against using a service like LegalZoom for any reason? LegalZoom is not free, but it's far less expensive than the friend of a friend was.
Assistance filing for tax-exempt status with the IRS. Filing as an official 501(c)(3) requires even more paperwork. Again, happy to pay the filing fees. Is anyone willing/able to help me pro bono with the filling out of the forms?
Logo - anyone out there a fantastic graphic designer (or a budding one with great promise) who'd like to take a shot at the logo?
Web design. Of course, we need a website!

That's it for now. All told, if formally hired out, the cost of these four needs could exceed $10,000. Sadly, I don't have $10,000 lying around. And, truthfully, even if I did, I'd FAR prefer to use it to help others in Ethiopia. I bet $10,000 would go a long way over there. So does anyone know anyone who might do pro bono work in any of these areas?

I know, once again I'm wondering if anyone knows anyone. But this is surely more important than knowing someone who knows someone who knows the Jonas Brothers, right?

What's In A Name?

2008-09-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

So, the history behind Believe Impossible Things...

My grandfather was a man I truly admired. He was mysterious - at least to me, as there were many things about him I didn't know. He passed away 2 1/2 years ago and there continue to be more and more things I wish I could ask him. He was an Episcopal priest (yes, you can be married if you're an Episcopal priest), and he had much wisdom to share.

I asked him once what he favorite book was. Now, this man was brilliant. As in, a member of Mensa. Not "Mensa-Like," as Gayle King refers to her producer, Corny Koehl. REAL Mensa. Sadly, those genes didn't make it this far down the tree.

I expected his answer to be something deep. Something complicated. Like War and Peace or some tome I'd never heard of.

"Alice in Wonderland," he said.

Huh?

In honor of my grandfather, I've always known that I would give my organization a name that, in some way, paid homage to Alice in Wonderland. Let people wonder. Carry on the mysteriousness of him.

I asked my friend Heather a few months ago, What on earth will I name this thing?

She sent me a paragraph from Alice in Wonderland.

"Alice laughed: "There's no use trying," she said. "One can't believe impossible things."

"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

Loved it. Still love it.

I wanted to call it "Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast."

But that's a mouthful. Can you imagine me answering the phone? "Hi, thank you for calling Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast. How can I help or completely confuse you today?"

I can barely type it.

So, I modified it to represent what the Queen wanted Alice to do. Believe Impossible Things.

There you have it!

Oh, and I need help again. More on that shortly...

WE DID IT!

2008-09-19T17:25:00.000-07:00

24 hours. $500.

Think about how long it would have taken Etagenge to save up $500. It may never have happened. Yet we were able to pull it together in 24 hours.

The last 24 hours in my life went by in the blink of an eye. Somehow, I doubt the same was true for Etagenge.

In the last 24 hours, I wondered how to get my son to remember to take his homework to school and I wondered how to get my other son to eat something other than cereal. Two things I didn't have to think about were, Will I have enough money to pay for my children's education? and Will I have enough money to put three meals on the table tomorrow?

It took 24 hours to allow Etagenge's life to continue moving forward. To allow her to fulfill her dream. To allow her to continue to provide for her family.

If we can do this in 24 hours for one person, imagine what we can do in a week. In a month. In a year.

This is what it's all about. Breaking the cycle. Changing the "norm." Giving another human being the opportunity to be all that she can be. Giving her permission to Believe Impossible Things.

I'm going to speak to Julie on Monday and find out when Etagenge will be ready to take this test. I'll coordinate with Julie and Almaz regarding when it would be best to send the money based on this timing. I'm hoping to be able to get a picture of Etagenge with the donation, and ultimately with that license! I'll post all details of where the money is, where it's going, when it's spent, when that license is acquired, and, hopefully, at what medical facility Etagenge becomes gainfully employed!

Thank you all so much. You rock. I can't wait for Mission No. 2!

Donor Update

2008-09-19T13:22:00.000-07:00

For some reason, the Widget isn't updating properly using a Firefox browser (on the Mac). If you're using that, I want you to know that we're currently at $410! You guys are amazing!

Mission No. 1 - The Big Reveal

2008-09-18T15:42:00.000-07:00

I mentioned in my last post that I was working on something. This is the beginning of that something.

First, a bit of background (you know by now that I start everything with "a bit of background.") I've wanted to start a foundation for years. The path to get here has been long and winding. It's become clear myriad times that the path I was heading down was not the "right" one. (And the signs were very obvious. Like, say, a brick coming off the back of the truck in front of me, flying toward my windshield as I drove 70+ mph thinking I'd just gotten the idea of the century.)

After returning from Ethiopia, I was more sure than ever that the reason each of my previous endeavors failed to get off the ground was because I had not yet been to Ethiopia. I had not yet seen that kind of need. I had not yet connected with someone who lived such a different way of life.

Since returning, I've thought and thought. I always thought I wanted to do something around literacy (being a writer), but honestly after seeing what I saw in Ethiopia, I found myself thinking, "Who cares if you can read if you will starve before morning?" But literacy IS important, and I believe education is the key to everything.

I continued to think.

I'm still working on the exact nature of the need or needs the foundation will primarily serve. And, truthfully, I may just let it evolve until it finally becomes what it is designed by Someone Else to be. I know I need to partner with folks on the ground in Ethiopia who know not only what the needs are, but how to get in there and DO something, get past red tape, etc. I'm actively working on that.

For now, I have an initial endeavor, and I need your help.

Through AGCI, I've learned about a woman who is a special mother at Hannah's Hope. She works primarily with the infants.

Her name is Etagegne. Etagenge has 5 children; the oldest is 15 and the youngest are 3-year-old twin boys.

She is about 30 years old and her husband was injured in the Ethiopian/Eritrean war and, as such, is as dependent on her as are her children. Despite the daily challenges of her life, according to Almaz, you'd never know they existed upon meeting her. She possesses true joy, believes wholly and completely in God, and is willing to work 24 hours a day to allow her children to attend school and have three meals a day.

Here's the kicker. She is almost finished with nursing school. Being a nurse is her greatest dream for herself. Once she obtains her nursing license, she can work more normal hours and receive far better pay to care for her family.

The problem is, she can't afford to take the test to obtain her nursing license!

How much does such a test cost? Only $500.

$500 stands between Etagegne and not only her dream for herself, but her dream to be able to properly provide for her family.

This is a situation we can remedy immediately. I'm sure of it. This is the sort of situation that drives me --- a specific situation, a specific person, a specific need. Not a big ol' bucket from which $30 here and $40 there will be pulled for who knows what or who knows who.

This is a situation where we can each donate $1 or $10 or $20 and KNOW that we helped this woman obtain her nursing license and move closer to fulfilling her dreams. This is what assisting in Ethiopia is about for me. It's about ensuring that one day, with some amount of luck, there will be no need for places like Hannah's Hope. One day, parents will be able to care for their children. A $500 test will not stand in their way.

Now, let me be very honest. My foundation is not yet incorporated. I'll begin the process tonight. Therefore, donations aren't tax deductible. If you don't know me (or know me but don't trust me!) enough to donate before my foundation is formally registered as a not-for-profit organization, don't do it. Seriously. The only way I know to do this right now is to have folks donate through my ChipIn account (which goes to my Paypal account). I'll write a check to AGCI when we hit $500, they'll send it to Almaz, and Almaz will ensure that every penny is used to register Etagegne for the test that will enable her to get her license.

For the record, this is how my organization will ALWAYS work. Every donated penny will go to its specified cause. It's imperative to me for donors to know and approve of each and every cause they are supporting.

To that end, there will be a tally on the blog showing how close we are to our $500 goal. When the goal is met, I'll make a bold announcement. If we go over, any monies that are above and beyond the $500 will either be refunded to their donors or the donors will be contacted to ensure that the cause to which the moneys will be shifted is acceptable to them. Again, this is the cornerstone of this organization. I want all donors to go to bed each night knowing exactly the shape and size of the footprint they left that day on someone else's life journey.

At this point, you may be wondering, "What the heck is the NAME of this organization?" Without further ado, let me announce that Project Etagegne is the innaugural effort of:

Believe Impossible Things

Because Everything is Possible

I'll post the story behind the name soon, but for now, who cares. Let's just get Etagegne that nursing license! I'm donating $100 to get us started, and I won't post again until we reach that goal. So, if you like to read my posts, let's get on with this already!

TONS more details to come...

Day 4 in Ethiopia

2008-09-16T12:03:00.001-07:00

Admit it, you've been holding your breath for this post and you're nearly blue.

Day 4 in Ethiopia was far and away my favorite day. No, it wasn't the day on which I met Nina. No, it wasn't the day on which the U.S. Embassy cleared me to leave the country with her as my daughter (those two events occurred on the same day, for the record). That day was memorable, no doubt. But more because I almost died of exhaustion than because the day was truly great by anything close to resembling Webster's definition of the word.

Thursday, however, was great.

In all of my mental planning prior to going to Ethiopia, one thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to truly live the experience. I wanted to connect with the people. I wanted to take in the sights, the smells, the feelings. That was a little hard to do while praying to remain upright minute by minute, but by Thursday I felt so good that I was ready to dive in.

One place I'd wanted to go so badly was the Fistula Hospital, which is right up the street from HH. I'd seen a documentary on this horrendous obstetrical ailment, and I so wanted to go to the hospital to spend time with these women, many of whom have been completely ostracized by their families and villages because of their condition.

But, without someone to care for Nina, I wasn't comfortable going there. I feared, frankly, that the sight of Nina might remind many of these women of what they'd lost and that was the last thing I'd wanted to do. To go to the Fistula Hospital, I needed to go by myself, which wasn't going to happen on this trip.

Some of the families in our group wanted to go to a government orphanage: Enat Alem. Now, as I understand it (and my understanding changes constantly as the information changes), there are no truly government-funded orphanages in Ethiopia. They are all private. But some are run with more funding than others, especially those funded by international sources such as the U.S. This particular orphanage, Enat Alem, operates with far less funding than Hannah's Hope, and many of the children at Hannah's Hope initially spent some time there (or at Bethzatha Children's Home). Families whose children spent some time there understandably wanted to visit.

I decided not to go to Enat Alem. There were 3 main reasons behind this decision. One: I needed to see something hopeful. The sun was out for the first time and I needed to go somewhere that wouldn't make me sad. Two: I'd have to primarily carry Nina since she hated the sling I brought (as did I). Three: By carrying Nina, I wasn't altogether confident that she'd be protected from whatever illnesses might be present at the orphanage and I didn't have someone to hand her off to so I could mingle with the kids. How could I lean over a crib and have an exchange with a baby if the baby were coughing and Nina were right in his face by virtue of the fact that I was holding her? I was simply too worried about what she might be exposed to. And I know that's a bit wrong. But there were too many unknowns, and with her heart situation (and not fully knowing what that entailed) and the fact that she'd been hospitalized at 3 weeks of age with pneumonia, I just didn't want to take the risk.

Plus, like I said, I wanted to find some joy. I wanted to connect with one person. For me, connecting with one person meant more than handing out miscellaneous what-nots to 100 people at that point. Doing much for many is valuable, no doubt, but it keeps us in a state of seeing only the whole rather than the parts that make up the whole. And in Addis Ababa, the whole represents poverty, lack, sadness, and hopelessness. I needed to find a part that showed a different side; a side I knew was there.

After breakfast, I learned from the mother of another traveling mom (the very adventurous mother of another traveling mom!) that there was a boy who lived across the street from the hotel named Danny. Danny was, apparently, a terrific tour guide.

Haley and I decided we needed to find Danny.

This wasn't hard to do, as he hangs out just outside the Union Hotel gates all day long, talking to the security guards and, quite possibly, waiting for us Americans to ask him to take us somewhere. He'd already given the adventurous mom's mom a tour and had taken another mom's sister to a place to buy some CDs.

We asked him if he'd walk us around and he agreed. We decided to head to the Addis Ababa Golf Club.

So, along we walked, quickly learning that his English is quite good and also that the golf club was a bit further away than we'd thought.

Over the river and through the woods...

Okay, not really. But over a bridge that crossed a major highway.

This is the first picture Danny took using David's brand new and quite expensive camera. Was I a bit nervous? You bet. Then, I thought, "It's a frickin' camera. Get a grip, Elizabeth."

Up and over the bridge we walked. So many people sat on the sides of the bridge with medical issues --- gaping wounds, missing limbs, loss of spirit. I doubt these folks ever moved. I can still see one man who sat with a huge gaping hole in the back of his hand that was clearly infected. Danny pointed at his own hand and motioned toward the man and said, "Cut."

"How could he get such a cut?" I asked.

Danny didn't really understand my question and we kept walking.

We offered most of the folks sitting on the bridge lollipops. I remember thinking, "This is so ridiculously outrageous. We are giving these folks lollipops like we're at a carnival. And I realize they don't have access to these here, but lollipops? How about a sandwich? Or BandAids? Or prayers?"

As we crossed onto the other side of the highway, Danny began telling me about his brother and sister as well as his parents, who both work. His mother works washing clothing and his father works at a printer. His sister's name is Eyerus and his brother's name I can't remember, which is killing me, so if anyone meets him, please ask and report back!

We spent a couple of hours with Danny. He loved my cameras - both still and "mobile" as he called my video camera. At one point he asked me if he could keep them. I wanted to leave them with him more than you can imagine. He simply LOVED taking photos and videos with them and I have a video he made that, while I get nauseous each time I watch it because he was all over the place, I'll treasure forever because it has his voice on it. He introduces himself and just talks and talks. It's fantastic (as long as you don't look at it).

But, there is no way for him to print his pictures there. There is no way for him to charge the camera or purchase batteries. It was a gift that made no sense. Otherwise, I would have left them with him in a heartbeat. Because come on, it's a frickin' camera.

I did blow up two great photos of him to 8x10s and sent them to Almaz to give to him. I doubt he has any pictures of himself and I hope he enjoys these.

Before I go on, here is Danny...

Here we are at the golf club.

We finally began to walk back to Hannah's Hope where we planned to spend a few hours with the kids, and ultimately to say Goodbye.

As we were leaving the golf club, Danny said, "I teach you say 'Welcome to the Addis Ababa Golf Club.'"

Okay.

He said a word. I repeated.

Now, to put this into perspective, I have a B.A. in Japanese. I lived in Japan for a summer. I LOVE languages. And Japanese is not an easy language, per se. But compared to Amharic? Compared to Amhharic, Japanese is cake. Simple Simon.

He spoke. I repeated. He finished the sentence and started uttering 2 words at time. I repeated. Then 3 words. I repeated. Finally, the full sentence.

I forgot.

We started at the beginning. Again.

Each time we finished, he'd say, "Again."

Finally, I said, "What is this, Danny School?"

"Yes," he said. "Now, again."

I never got it.

I started asking him how to say Stop or Go or Dog. I don't think I said any of it correctly.

When we got near HH, I started to reach into my pocket. This kid, I don't know how to explain this, but he never asked for anything. So many people came up to us on the street or to the sides of our van begging for money, food, anything. They had nothing to give us, they just wanted whatever we had. It was a constant life of giving on our part for 4 days, which we were happy to be able to do. But at some point, it got to where we all started feeling as though, to many of these people, all we were were Americans with "stuff." Whether we emptied our pockets or had nothing from the start, the result was the same: they moved on to the next van or the next person on the street.

No connection was ever made. Many of these folks didn't even say Thank You. It was just "More? More?"

But not Danny. He escorted us around. He answered our questions as best he could. He asked for nothing. In fact, at one point I wanted a photo of a woman and her child on the street to whom we'd given the stupid lollipops. I asked him if he'd take it because he had my camera. He just started taking the photo and I was like, "Um, Danny, can you ask? I mean, can you ask if it's okay?" He goes, "It's okay." I looked at the woman like, "Uh, okay, thanks. Yes, I'm a stupid American."

Anyway, we were leaving to head through the gates of HH and I was reaching into my pocket and his eyes would dart, every so subtly and ever so quickly, to my pocket. He was wondering if I was taking anything out of there. He was wondering if I'd give it to him. It could have been a lollipop. It could have a been 1 birr (about 10 cents). It could have been 100 birr (about $10). It could have been a Kleenex.

Honestly, had it been a Kleenex, I have no doubt he would have graciously accepted it. It wasn't a Kleenex and it wasn't a lollipop. But I slipped it to him without any fanfare and a hope that when he got home he was ecstatic. I hope it's the most money he ever made giving a "tour." He deserved it.

There was another occasion later that day when he arrived at the gate and offered to carry all of our donations up to HH for us. I thought, "Crap, I've got nothing." But he just said "goodbye" with his beautiful smile after dropping us (and all our donations) off. He's an amazing, beautiful, grateful boy of eleven, and I will forever be grateful that on that day, that fourth day on which I felt fantastic and the sun was shining, I connected with him.

I hope he was inspired to continue giving without expecting, and I hope it helped to instill in him that when you do that, you'll succeed. I think Danny will do something great some day and I sure hope to see him again. He's a smart, resourceful kid. And in any country, even one of the poorest in the world, those kids don't fall through the cracks.

At about 5:00 that evening, we headed to the airport for our 10:15 flight back to Washington D.C. It was a weird feeling. We were all ready to get home. I was, especially, as I was ready to return to my entire family. And at that point, I can honestly say that I didn't have feelings of "I can't wait to come back." Honestly, I was happy to be heading home and had NO thoughts of returning for a LONG time.

But it's been nearly 2 months since we returned. And now, honestly, I cannot WAIT to go back (with a prescription for sleeping pills). That trip had its own mission: meet and bring home our daughter. But it was an emotionally exhausting trip that took turns that weren't anticipated (even for a planner such as myself). It was a whirlwind 4 days.

Now, having seen, smelt, and felt the reality that is Ethiopia --- ALL of it --- the poverty, the beauty, the despaire AND the hope, I would like nothing more than to return with my travel group --- this time to do something different. To be on a different mission. A mission that reflects the hope and the joy I found in Danny's face.

To that end, I'm working on a little project. Stay tuned!

Injera anyone?

2008-09-14T09:04:00.001-07:00

Okay - who has found a great injera recipe? I keep seeing them without teff and I feel like that's not authentic. But maybe I'm being an overachiever?

Anyone who's made it and thinks it's come close to the real deal, PLEASE let me know! I'm ready to cook (and that's saying a whole lot).

My Quest for Nick, Joe, and Kevin

2008-09-11T15:35:00.000-07:00

First, Amber - thank you for the GH update. It is most validating (and frightening) to know that I appear to have been right in my assessment that Laura is only a vision to Lulu. More frightening that I could assess that in 4.6 seconds. Almost as easily as I can predict when John will say, "That's a fact" on Days of Our Lives.

Now, I got this email yesterday from the Atlantis Resort in the Bahamas. I will admit, I've made it my life's mission to get to this resort someday. It simply looks too spectacular to miss out on. And with a family who LOVES water activities, this place seems like the place to be.

The major issue is that it's about the most expensive resort this side of its partner resort recently opened in...wait for it...Dubai.

So, I got this email yesterday announcing that they are running a special for their Jonas Brothers weekend December 12 - 14. Why would that interest me? Because it would interest Grace. Tremendously.

I'm not one of those give-them-all-they-want-and-then-some parents. I'm really not. But Grace ADORES the Jonas Brothers (like most other 9-year-old girls on the planet) and, truth be told, costs aside, she deserves to be in on this weekend. She's gracefully and quietly accepted the addition of a new child almost every year since she was two. She does her homework with little-to-no prodding or assistance from me, a fact I've only recently come to truly appreciate since getting her brothers' homework done every night requires a little prayer and a lot of liquor. She's writing a book and she secretly dedicated it to me and promoted MY books thereafter (which I'm not supposed to know, but I saw the dedication page). She's a great kid. And I'd LOVE to spend the weekend (which happens to be the weekend of my 36th birthday, if I haven't mentioned it) with her and the Brothers Jonas.

So, the DAY AFTER I received this email, I call the resort to find out just how accurate the "starting at" prices mentioned in the email are. I mean, like, does "starting out" mean "the cost of parking at your local airport?" Because that's often how it works.

It doesn't even matter. The show is sold out. Already. How can that be? I asked. I just received the email yesterday! It's like the email was just a way of saying, "Nah Nah Nee Boo Boo; We'll be there without you!" So wrong.

The reservations agent said, "We have accommodations available, but not show tickets."

Oh, yes, because that would go over real well. "Guess what, sweetie? The Brothers Jonas are here, on the property, singing! No, we can't go. But they're HERE!"

So, what I'm getting at is, does anyone know anyone who might know anyone? Long shot, I know. But I just thought I'd put it out there. I mean, no concert is EVER truly sold out. The fancy people can always get tickets. I'm not fancy. But maybe some of my readers are. Or maybe they know someone who is. Six degrees of separation and all. Kevin Bacon anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

The Top 5 Things NOT To Do...

2008-09-10T14:14:00.000-07:00

Now try to get that song out of your head. You'll hate me by dinner.

So I stopped watching (or TiVoing) Days of Our Lives and General Hospital about a month ago. I decided I could have an extra hour each day (only takes 30 minutes, max, to fly through the shows when they're on TiVo) by doing this. I need all the time I can get.

Today I checked in for a moment (feeling strongly that I'd missed little at best because there's no reason to watch a soap opera every single day unless you're on bedrest because you can glean the present status of each character after a few scenes once a month).

Imagine my shock when I turned on General Hospital and learned that Laura appears to have again emerged from a catatonic state. However, I'm most disturbed because I don't know when or how she came out of said state nor do I understand why she's hiding from her son Nikolas and now I'm wondering if perhaps she has not come out of a catatonic state but in fact is only a vision to her daughter, LuLu, who is presently following in her mother's footsteps by going clinically insane.

I couldn't ascertain the answers to these questions, which surely would have come after the commercial break, because George was far too interested in the show.

I quickly switched over to Days of Our Lives only to glean that John has regained his memory and is trying to get Marlena back, or so it seemed, however she seems not-so-interested which is most interesting because the last time I watched (and let's remember that this was only a month ago which is, like, 7 minutes in soap opera land) Marlena was ready to slit her wrists to get John's memory (and hence John) back.

I'm so confused. If anyone has a clue what's going on, do let me know.

Now. A few people have asked what the 5 things are Almaz said not to do if you don't want to appear to be (or just plain be) an idiot. Here they are.

1. Do not under any circumstances open the large manila envelope Almaz will give to you along with your child's passport. The only person who can open that envelope is the customs agent once you enter the U.S.

2. Do not under any circumstances leave said envelope in a bathroom or something somewhere. She said women have entered a restroom in the airport, set the envelope down on the counter (or wherever) to wash their hands (or whatever) and then walked off without it.

3. Do not under any circumstances forget to get your child's passport back from the customs official. They keep the envelope, but not your child's passport. You want to be sure to get that back.

4. Do not lose the original copies of the documents you get at the U.S. Embassy in Addis Ababa. You need those for readoption in the U.S. They WILL NOT reissue original copies if you lose yours. And if you email Almaz to request original copies, the email will be mysteriously "lost." There is simply no way to get these documents reissued so guard them with your life.

This is why I took a vinyl accordian folder with me. I put all important documents on the way there and on the way home in it. They were protected from the elements and kept together and with me at all times.

5. I actually forget #5. Karen? Sharon? Anyone? Do you remember?

But if I had to add my own #5, it would be that if you are faced with the short-haired, blond, and clearly bitter woman in customs in D.C. to whom you present the all-important (and unopened) manila envelope, smile and pay little attention to what comes out of her mouth. Like I said, she's bitter. And a bit racist. This is not a good thing when you're standing there with your beautiful (and thankfully, for the moment, non-English speaking) Ethiopian child. Remember, karma will bite her, so you don't need to.

2008-09-05T12:47:00.000-07:00

If you're as addicted to The Amazing Race as I am, you likely remember Blake Mycoskie, who ran the race with his twin sister many seasons ago. Blake started a fantastic charitable organization called TOMS Shoes for Tomorrow, which donates a pair of shoes for every pair you purchase to someone in need of shoes in the world. They do "shoe drops" here there and everywhere and have made a huge difference.

Today I got an email from TOMS (not from Blake personally, as that would have rendered me incapable of writing this email because I'd be passed out) alerting me to a new organization called Charity : Water. This organization was also created by a young kid - seriously, he was 31 when he formed it. Their goal is to bring clean, safe drinking water to everyone in the world who needs it. They started in Kenya, and tomorrow they will drill a well in Ethiopia. You can even watch the drill occur live through their website.

I was really touched by this --- and I think their approach is brilliant. If you're turning 33, for example, ask relatives to donate $33 to the organization in lieu of giving you a gift. This could be expensive for my relatives this year, as I think I'm turning 89. But as a heads up, this IS what I want this year for my birthday (which is on December 13th, lest you've forgotten). And I just checked my drivers license; while I feel 88, turns out I'll only be 36. Am I worth $36? Don't know. But these kids in Ethiopia without something we all take for granted each day --- safe, clean drinking water --- most certainly are!

Happy Birthday Grace!

2008-08-31T20:21:00.000-07:00

Our Gracey turned 9 yesterday which is so unbelievable to me that I can barely acknowledge it. We took ourselves, two of Grace's friends, and the unmatchable Aunt Heather and Uncle Michael to a local resort to celebrate (I will do anything, ANYTHING to avoid an all-out party with blow-up thingies in the backyard, possibly a traveling zoo, and 30 kids I barely recognize). One of the many benefits of living here in the hot, hot desert is that you can take advantage of the amazing resorts (and their low summer rates) without having to book a plane ticket (or seven).

Nina was UNbelievable during this trip. Seriously, last night David and I were sitting out on the patio after we gently placed Nina in her Heavenly Crib (yes, we were at a Westin), at which point she smiled, winked, and went to sleep (okay, she didn't wink) while Heather and Michael went to refill our iced teas before the 8:00 closing time of the iced tea shoppe, and I said to David, "Seriously, when's the other shoe going to drop? I mean, do you think this is our reward for surviving Jack, Henry, and George?" David said, "Don't question it or you're going to hear a 'clunk.' Just enjoy it. We clearly did something to deserve it. Don't know what that was. But again, don't question it!" We aren't questioning it, just enjoying every minute. She's unbelievable.

Here's a look at how we celebrated!

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Oh Henry

2008-08-29T15:26:00.001-07:00

I really don't think I should dilute the hilarity of this video by adding anything additional to the post. But maybe it's so funny to me because I know its star so well. Clearly, Nina is a very patient child.

I do need to point out that coming out of Henry's mouth repeatedly in the beginning is the phrase, "Who's the cutest one? Whoooo's the cutest one?" which is what he says to Nina when he's acknowledging her existence. The part later on about "Drink the milk!" also gets me just hysterical.

"Thursday in Ethiopia" is coming...I promise.

Quick Update...

2008-08-26T19:52:00.000-07:00

Two posts in one day. I must be bored. :)

Just wanted to quickly add that I've already waffled back on the homeschooling idea. Won't surprise most people. For those who've asked, the online academy to which I referred is called K12. The website is http://www.k12.com. They are an official public charter school in many states, including Arizona. So you get the public school curriculum, resources, etc. but your kids can also work ahead of their grade (or behind) if necessary. And you don't spend 397 hours a day on school work! (But you do spend 4-5, supposedly.)

However, after a few hours of thought I've realized that right now this really may be over my head. I tried some new tactics with the boys' homework tonight. You know, a little bribery, a lot of negotiating, a little screaming (on Henry's part, not mine).

When Henry spelled the word "could" properly but Jack spelled it "phlks" I sighed. And when Jack correctly calculated that 4+2=6 but Henry calculated the answer as 79 I sighed more loudly. I honestly think I might consider suicide if this were the dynamic that constituted my entire day. Or even half of it.

I'm not ruling anything out (those of you who know me well know I rule nothing out...ever). But dealing with those sorts of answers all day long? And the screaming? And the fact that at one point, their approach to the word "but" was to laugh hysterically for, like, 10 minutes even after I explained that it's the "but" as in "I'm getting very angry, BUT I'm trying to stay calm" and not the "butt" like "I think I'm getting ready to kick yours!" Hell, that made them laugh even harder!

Maybe I should leave all this up to the professionals (even though I know I could do it better!) Just sayin'.

2008-08-26T13:07:00.000-07:00

Two things to ponder:

First, I took Nina to the lab the other day to get her heel pricked for her PKU test (newborn screening). The lab tech is a woman we've had many times when we've gone there for bloodwork. She's a nice lady, but phrases things a bit differently (and more directly) than I might choose to.

I took Nina in and she said, "Oh, she'd adorable!" I said Thanks and she asked, "Is she from India?"

"No," I answered. "She's from Ethiopia."

"Oh. Did you meet her mother?"

"Her birthmother? Yes," I responded.

"Did she cry?"

By this point, I realized this conversation was going in an interesting direction.

"Who?" I asked, "The birthmother or Nina?"

"The mother."

"Um, well, it was a difficult meeting."

"Well," she continued, "Why'd she give her up?"

At this point, I was looking to channel Laurie Hausam from her recent grocery store experience. I was looking for Laurie's wit. Do you think I found it? Here was my reply.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess she was having a bad day."

The tech looked at me as though I was serious. And I looked at her as though I wanted her to shut up. And she did.

Second, all you homeschooling folks out there, I need help (and yes, Laurie, I mean you). For the 18th time, I'm considering this option. My mother is having palpitations and hyperventilating as she reads this. But seriously, I have two main issues at the kids' school right now. One, they are being forced to the "average." So Grace is bored to PIECES and Jack is really struggling to keep up. Henry, who knows --- the other day he announced again that he'd been excused from homework (and all in-school work) until he was 16.

The other issue is that the homework and etc. is KILLING me. The kids come home with 1 1/2 hours of homework per night that, for the boys, is WAY over their heads and merely busy work (in my opinion). Grace is making up extra credit work because she's trying to challenge herself, a trait that I KNOW will disappear when she's in about 6th grade because she'll replace her boredom with boys and the oft-proposed idea that school is dumb and being smart is overrated.

Now, homeschooling from scratch is not something I'm capable of, trust me. My kids would end up living with us until they are 50 because all I'd come up with to teach them is how to calculate a good sale at Target.

But I've come across this interesting online academy which is technically an AZ public charter school (so it's free). This school exists in multiple states, actually, including California. They provide the textbooks, etc. and guidance from a teacher assigned to you. But you control the content your kids are learning. So if, say, you have a 4th grader ready for 6th grade science, you can do that. Or if you have a 1st grader needing kindergarten reading drills, you can do that too. You don't waste 7 HOURS at school doing work that is either too hard for you to understand or so easy you are dreaming about Joe Jonas all the live long day. It just seems inefficient. And the arguments at home over homework that no one wants to do (and no one understands) while trying to have some nice family time or do an extracurricular activity are getting me insane.

But pulling them out of public school is a HUGE decision and not one I take lightly. At all. I'm nervous for them, and I'm nervous for me. The social component doesn't concern me as they all have plenty of friends who they would continue to do things with. I just don't know how it would all work --- or IF it would all work. And it seems insane to pull them out only to put them back in.

I know people do this all the time - try homeschooling, or move, or somehow otherwise disrupt the status quo. But what if it COULD work? I ran into one of Grace's previous teachers this morning and she's considering the exact same thing for the exact same reasons.

So I'm looking for some honest feedback here. Let me have it! (Laurie - again - I mean you!)

Wednesday in Ethiopia

2008-08-22T18:49:00.000-07:00

I'm on a dedication roll, and this one is for Karen. I had conversed a few times with Karen before we went to Ethiopia and, honestly, I had SO hoped we'd be in the same travel group. She's just one of those people who makes it easy to feel like you've known her forever.

Karen and Curtis were the last ones to join us at the gate in D.C. prior to takeoff, and when they walked up, her first words were, "Liz Lyons, I'm going to hug you now." I thought, "This lady, me, we same."

Because the seat next to me was vacant the entire way to Ethiopia (I know, hate me), Karen came and ate dinner with me (after Curtis and I compared notes on the publishing industry). It was awesome to get to know each other over those first 24 hours and I'm so glad they live not so far away.

On Monday night, after my day of being dead, Karen knocked on my door at the hotel. I figured she was checking to see if I wanted to go have dinner. I said, "Yeah?" and she did not, in fact, ask me if I wanted to go to dinner. She asked, "Are you having another break down?" THEN she asked if I wanted to go to dinner! It was frankly quite funny (in hindsight).

So, on to Wednesday in Ethiopia. Now, I have pretty much NO pictures of this day because it was the shopping day and I didn't take my camera. I had Nina, my baby bag, and a sling fit for carrying nothing other than a dead squirrel, and without a third arm the camera wasn't going to make it. Plus, it wasn't a small camera I had with me. Note: pixel size is important when you're going to a third-world country to which you aren't likely to return in the next 3 months, which is why I conned David into letting me take his 10+ megapixel camera. However, who cares about pixel size when you don't even have the ability to take the camera with you anywhere!

So, if you're going to take a whopping camera of which Ansel Adams would be proud, take a smaller one too (if you have one) to throw into your pocket or something for these types of excursions. Especially if you do not heed my previous advice and choose to go by yourself. When I think about how much "easier" it would have been to have David with me and be able to say, "David, take Nina," or "David, take the camera," or "David, catch me I'm going down," or "David, please reach down my pants and grab 100 birr," I want to win the lottery, hire a nanny who speaks three languages and has experience running zoos and three-ring circuses, and head right back over to do it all again...WITH my spouse!

Anyhoo, we all met at HH around 9:00 to head to the shopping area. I don't remember how far away this place was. All the trips in the van started to run together at this point. And, as you'll realize after about the 3rd trip, when you leave HH, you can only turn right onto the highway. So you have to drive about 2 miles and then do a U-Turn in this roundabout and head back PAST the alley that goes to HH to get wherever it is you need to go. And everywhere to which you need to go requires a left-hand turn outside the alley from HH, which you cannot make!

We got there and parallel parked and, I'm telling you, upon our even considering opening the door to exit the van, vendors were already laying in wait. It must be how Tori Spelling feels as she prepares to exit her vehicle for a book signing. (Yes, I'm addicted to Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood. And I'm okay with that. We all need a little good, clean reality TV in our lives.)

We made our way through many little shops. With Nina in one arm, her bottle balanced sometimes by my other hand --- and sometimes by my chin depending on what I was doing --- there wasn't an ability to negotiate too much. It's too bad some of the vendors didn't realize this. They could have said, "This dress will cost 3000 birr" and I likely would have paid it because I was too tired to do the conversion and birr (or "beer" as Tim continuously referred to it, which was most hysterical when he continued to tell folks begging at the windows that he was "out of beer") still felt like Monopoly money.

There was, however, the vendor who kept repeating, "I give you good price. No forenjee price." I'm just spelling that word phonetically. I later learned, thanks to Karen, that it's the word for "foreigner." I thought he was telling me he would not charge me a "Frenchy" price. No, he would not, I thought, because I am not French. Plus, when you tell someone you are NOT charging them something, whether Foreigner or Frenchy, chances are you ARE. So I left. Communication issues sure can cause problems (and loss of income).

I bought some dresses for Nina and Grace and some outfits for the boys. I also bought some necklaces, a cross for Heather, and I think that's it. I thought a lot of thing were neat, but it felt a bit like being on the boardwalk after not too long; you know, a bunch of stores all selling the same stuff. And so it started to feel more touristy and less unique and I realized that while I thought I'd want to buy a lot of stuff there so I could say I bought it there, I could probably just as easily order it over the Internet! Plus, after about 40 minutes, I was drenched in sweat, Nina was less than pleased, and I was tired of reaching down my pants (or asking someone else to reach down my pants) to get money. So I called it a day and popped back into the van.

One of the craziest parts of this shopping experience was a phenomenon of which I'd heard, but had yet to witness: The Lady Cop of the Marketplace. This woman was shorter than I am (and I'm 5'3"...barely). She wore this crazy leathery coat that I figured she must have been roasting in and she wielded this huge stick, with which she'd threaten to hit (or actually hit, on occasion) those who were begging from the tourists and not allowing them to shop. The shop owners pay her to do this because if she didn't the people would stop shopping there. She would get so mean as she'd chase these kids away, and then turn and smile this HUGE smile at you. I stole this photo of her off of Karen's blog --- it's perfect and it makes me laugh every time I look at it.

We gave out as much candy etc. as we had from the van windows as we waited for everyone to finish shopping. I'm an idiot, so I hadn't thought to bring all my candy/lollipops/Twizzlers to the shopping area. Though, really, I would have had to stuff THAT down my pants too with no appendages left to carry things, so maybe it's best that I left it at the Union.

We left the shopping area after about an hour total and headed to a coffee store called Aster Bunna (bunna, pronounced BOO-nuh, is the word for coffee in Amharic). We drove down this very bumpy gravel road and finally arrived at this place. I mean, there are no maps there. You either know where this place is or you don't. I think just about everywhere is like that in Addis!

We went inside and learned that the beans were actually being roasted right in the back! David would have been in hog heaven and that was probably the point during the trip when I missed him the most (well, okay, the moment I almost died at the Embassy was one during which I prayed he might walk in the front door as well, but...).

I ordered 5 bags because that was all I thought I could fit in my luggage, but it killed me because it was only about $2.50 per 1/2 pound. FAR less than Starbucks and FAR better quality! Karen and Curtis bought, I think, 20 bags. David would have started some contest with Curtis to see who'd buy the most (and be able to fit it in his suitcase).

During this time, many kids from down the "lane" came up to the vans and Tim and Scott came outside and were giving them all candy. The thing is, they all just keep coming! And they don't politely stop when you give them one thing. It's not the U.S. and it's not Halloween. They don't know when they'll get more, so they beg and beg and beg. And it's candy, not fruit. I mean, they don't have dentists. And it makes me so sad that this is what makes up the majority of their daily diet.

This is why we were all thrilled to hand out our remaining Power Bars and other more "nutritious" items on our way to the airport on Thursday night! The kids aren't rude, they are just in survival mode. And when a child takes even ONE thing that another child believed belonged to him --- even something as small as a Tootsie Roll --- a fight can break out. Over a Tootsie Roll. It's heartbreaking. I mean, Jack and Henry will go to blows over a Tootsie Roll too, but not because either believes it might mean the difference between hunger and not. It broke my heart over and over.

After the coffee place, we went to Makush for lunch. This was a really nice restaurant that served Italian food and there was a lot of neat art hanging around available for purchase.

I ordered a 4-cheese pizza that would have served 2-3 (even though they said it only served 1) and cost just over $4. There were many Americans in this restaurant. Everyone was well-dressed, and it seemed many were having business meetings. It was really fun.

After lunch, it was time to head back to HH to collect our kids' passports and other documentation needed to get back into the U.S. Almaz gave us some great instructions including the "5 dumb things people do upon entering the U.S. with this paperwork that we should not do."

This is a photo of the babies' bassinets (Moses Baskets, in case you ever wondered what the heck a Moses Basket is) lined up in the room downstairs where the babies spend the majority of their days when not outside.

This is myself, Almaz, and Nina. Everytime I look at Almaz, it warms my heart. She's just beautiful, inside and out and I sure hope I get to see her again.

Finally, in the midst of yet another rain storm, Danny and Johannes drove us back to HH with all our shopping bags, our kids, our paperwork, and the majority of our sanity.

I think we then had dinner and called it a night. It was a full day! And there was only one more to go. The next night we would all head back to the Bole airport to get ready to board our flight back to the good old U.S. of A.

Happy 4 Month Day!

2008-08-20T13:23:00.000-07:00

This post is dedicated to Dawn, who is checking the blog "several times a day" in anticipation of the Tuesday in Ethiopia post. I've always wanted a fan (just not a crazy one) and I've always said that if I got one, I wouldn't take her for granted. Plus, I understand the pain of checking blogs and wondering where in hell the author is and what she could possibly be doing that could be more important than providing an update for me to read. I don't want to inflict that sort of pain on anyone. So Dawn, this one's for you!!

First, I interviewed cleaning crews this week. Still not happy about paying for that. But at this point, let's get real.

Second, I must mention that Little Miss Fantastic is 4 months old today! Truly, she is an absolute angel who spreads sunshine wherever she goes. Her personality is really starting to come out. She smiles her huge, dimply smile and she kicks her legs like crazy while making these hysterical noises when anyone talks to her. She's also really filling out --- even in the 2 1/2 weeks since she's come home we notice such a difference. And her hair; it's still growing! $43 worth of Carol's Daughter products later (which only makes up half of our supply of products for her hair) and I think I'm prepared to nurture it.

Hi everybody! (she is actually twirling her hair in this picture, which she does all the time)

I remember when our other kids were born and I was frantically paging through the umpteenth parenting book on not sleeping or constantly screaming or giving me the finger when I wasn't looking or whatever unpleasant thing we were enduring 24/7 in an attempt to figure out what on earth the baby (or babies) could possibly still be mad about and how to fix it. Most authors brilliantly discussed the fact that all babies would operate perfectly provided they were put on the proper schedule, talked to the right way, held the right way, dressed in proper couture attire, breastfed by a mother subsisting on soybeans and wheat berries, blah blah blah. And of course, I was doing ALL of those things!

I didn't understand. "Based on what study of what baby (from what planet) did this person come up with these conclusions?" I wondered. "Because it can't be a human baby. That's simply not possible. At least, not when they come out of my body. Because my children were seemingly put here to push me to the absolute brink of insanity within the first six months and five days."

Folks, I've figured out the solution to all that nonsense (at least in our case). Apparently, one must simply go to Africa. You have to go only that far to find a child who follows the rules!

Now, before everyone hates my guts for posting, let alone living with, this angelic experience we're having, let me mention a few things:

1. This is completely abnormal and probably shouldn't be expected. I've concluded that we were blessed by two things: her age and her innate disposition. Being only 3 1/2 months old when she came home was huge, I think, because she hadn't really developed any strong attachments to anything in Ethiopia. Almaz did tell me that for the first 8 weeks of her life, she was such a challenge (crying constantly, sleeping for only 15 minutes at a time) that the special mother at HH after whom she was named wanted to change her name! Honestly, I'm okay with having missed out on that little segment of her life. I also think she's just a happy kid, likely to become a nightmare adolescent. Because that's how it works, right? There's no such thing as a child who never has a challenging spell as far as I understand. So all of you who presently hate my guts can focus on how hard life will be when she turns 13. Feel better?

2. Her personality is absolutely coming out now. So I think that if I'd gone to get her at 5 or 6 (or more) months of age and disrupted her routine, it's highly likely that we'd be in adjustment hell right now.

3. Let's remember that I birthed twin boys --- after 20 days of in-hospital bedrest, not allowed out of bed even to go to the bathroom and during which time I endured (and barely survived, as I don't tolerate even getting my eyebrows plucked) the insertion of eleven IVs, two of which blew up the veins into which they were inserted. And, let's remember that those babies were on two-hour opposing schedules for 6 months. One ate every single hour. Each feeding took 30 minutes. Plus a diaper change. You do the math. Oh, and there was a newly turned 2-year-old running around at the time. Hard times. Very, very hard times.

3. After the twins, we produced another son who cried from the moment he took his first breath until 5 minutes ago. He'll likely start again in 30 seconds. We haven't had a full night's sleep in seven years. And a well-balanced meal? What is that exactly? Cheerios and cous-cous anyone?

So, at this point, I think we were destined to be blessed by a child who, at least temporarily, is relatively content. Because with 4 others running around, 3 of whom are rarely content (the 4-year-old of whom I spoke earlier is yelling at me right this very minute because he cannot get Mario on top of some planet on the Wii. 'Cause, somehow, that's my fault), the good Lord knew I couldn't handle much more.

I also think this is God's way of saying, "You two are DONE!" After this, I would be terrified to bring another child into this house. It can't get much easier than this, so I think we'll go out on a good note.

And, to be clear, this isn't easy by any stretch of the definition. The juggling act is mind-boggling at times. But it's nothing compared to every-hour feeding, 24-hour screaming, and zero sleeping, all of which I've unfortunately experienced...simultaneously.

This is how Nina survives tummy time in our house (for a whopping 52 seconds at a time).

George is always very happy to take care of Nina when she's less-than-happy
Okay, I admit it. I have help. But it comes in the form of a 4-year-old.
George: "Dear God, can someone else please help?"

Now - on to Tuesday in Ethiopia....

I woke up after a good night's sleep and felt much better and was SO thrilled because this was to be the day many of us would meet the birthmothers. I mean, the idea of barfing on Almaz was mortifying, and the thought of barfing on the birthmother? Well, that is just horrifying beyond belief and I don't even want to go there so let's just move on. We were told to come to HH before our scheduled time slot. Mine was at 10:30 - I was the second meeting.

I went down and had some funnel cakes --- I mean pancakes, but they were JUST like funnel cakes --- and coffee. Finally, food was good again. Because when food is good, life is good.

I was so anxious to see my Nina that I headed over to HH around 9:30 or so with some other families. The special mothers were just bringing the babies downstairs for the day and I asked someone where Rahel was. They said she was coming down. One of the special mothers handed her to me and when Nina saw me, she smiled. Coincidence? Probably. But it was the first time I'd seen her smile and it made me so happy! I pretended it was her way of forgiving me for deserting her for that first 24 hours while I recovered from being dead.

Nina's birthmother showed up right on time. Understandably, I'm sure, I won't dive too deep into the details of that meeting. The thing is, Nina has so little that's her own private story to share (or not) when and how she chooses. And this part of her life, this person in her life, I hope will be so special to her. And I want her to know that this person is a special angel, and that the details of her life are hers to share how and with whom she chooses.

I will simply say that I was in absolute awe of her mother. Her beauty, her poise, her grace, her maturity. I loved her. And that was what I most wished for. I prayed that she would show up because, sometimes, the birthmothers are notified but don't show. Or show up late causing anxiety that they may not show at all. And I prayed that I'd like her. That may sound silly because, in the end, no matter what I thought, I'd tell Nina wonderful things about her. But I really wanted to feel those things. And I did.

All adoptive parents feel differently on this issue. Some want to meet the birthmother and even have an open long-term relationship with her, some want to know nothing about her and dread the day their child begins to ask questions. This choice is personal for each woman. For me, I see this as a journey her birthmother and I were meant to walk together. Two people meant to be brought together for the benefit of this little girl. She gave her life, and I will give her a life. Without both of us, she could have neither. So this woman, Nina's birthmother, is very, very important to me.

After the meeting, several of us hung out at HH for a time before heading back to the hotel for lunch. We learned that while our schedule said that the cultural dinner would be Wednesday night, it was actually Tuesday night. Again, I was thrilled to be feeling better so I could attend and enjoy it!

We had lunch at the hotel which was hilarious to me because it again proved that whenever a parent sits down to eat, a child needs to be fed. Seriously, almost every time my food was served in Ethiopia, Nina got hungry! The first few times with this were a bit challenging. I mean, we all have our way of feeding babies. Nina wasn't real used to my way. She was used to being swaddled in a blanket with part of the blanket over her head to block out all other stimulation. Oh, and she had to be bounced around all the while. So, there I was, a bit like Tigger with an invisible pig in a blanket trying to get 1 1/2 ounces into her so I could eat! It's still amazing to me that only 3 weeks ago she took 1 1/2 ounces at a time and now she takes 7 ounces at a time --- and not only doesn't need to be swaddled and hidden from the world but refuses to be!

We headed back to HH from our hotel around 6:30 so that we could meet the night special mothers. This was really important to me because Nina was named after one of these women. I so wanted her photo as well as for her to have a chance to say goodbye to Nina.

Those of us with infants went upstairs to see these women because they were in the midst of putting the babies down for the night. Holy crap - it's HOT up there! Honestly, as an American, with all we hear about overheating and SIDS and etc. you want to go through and pull all the blankets off these babies. It's amazing. They have space heaters in each room and then the babies are in warm PJs and also have blankets around the tops of their heads and heavy comforters on them (and they have little pillows!). It's sort of funny - I kept stripping layers so as not to pass out!

We headed out from HH around 7:15 for the cultural dinner. It took about 30 minutes to arrive. The restaurant was pretty crowded. There were a few other families with their new children, some business men, some families. It was a good mix.

Almaz ordered the food and the dancing began. The food, which I ate only a bit of just in case, was phenomenal. Karen was kind enough to find the non-spicy stuff for me and pretty much hand-feed me all night since I had my hands full with Nina (literally).

Nina got pretty cranky and at one point I had to hand her over to Almaz. I was like, "Uh, no clue. Work your magic." It was really loud and I think maybe that got to her.

We got back to the hotel around 10:00 and headed up for bed. This would be my first night with Nina and I wasn't sure what to expect. Almaz had given me a little Moses Basket to put her in, but she seemed really uncomfortable in it so I just lay her in bed with me. She doesn't roll yet, so I figured she'd be fine. And she was. She only woke up every 4 hours or so to eat and then went right back to sleep. No problem.

I kept thinking, "Okay - start screaming now. Because that's what my kids do: scream for no reason for hours on end rendering me completely exhausted and crabby. So, don't hold out on me. Anytime now. Ready...Set...." But nothing. It was amazing.

Only two days left! And Wednesday was shopping day! That was quite an experience...to be documented next...

Friendship

2008-08-14T11:26:00.000-07:00

Tuesday in Ethiopia is coming, I promise.

Last night at 9:00, I was sitting on the couch writing an email. The doorbell rang. The dogs (okay, A dog, technically MY dog) went berserk. It scared the crap out of me.

I thought, "Well, that must be Heather because she's the only one who would come over this late. But it is late. What if it's a salesman? Or a murderer?" I've always found it interesting that alarm salesmen tend to come after dark. And I don't find it interesting in a comforting kind of way either.

I inched my way toward the front door (which is full of windows, so those outside can see in but we can't always see out. Yes, I know that I should remedy this, but really, when?)

This is what I saw when I looked out the windows:

...with this sign on it

I mean, come ON! I opened my door and yelled into the darkness, "Now this just isn't right!" And out popped Heather and Michael.

Now, it should be known that I am a Stroller Queen. I'm obsessed with finding (and obtaining) THE perfect stroller. I've owned 13. And after much research, I had decided that THIS was the one for Little Miss Fantastic. And it isn't an inexpensive stroller because I don't know how to choose anything inexpensive. It's not that I don't WANT to. It's just that, if you line up a bunch of items from which I should choose and put no prices on them, I'm going to choose the most expensive one. It just keeps happening. David loves it.

They said, "We wanted to get something for Nina."

Uh, a book would have been fine.

Seriously, gas is still $3.78 a gallon, and Heather drives a Mini Cooper which requires premium gas (but gets 40+ miles per gallon, so I guess it's sort of a wash). And really, a whole stroller? Of the Liz variety? It was just totally above and beyond and I didn't even know what to say.

David came out and I asked, "How do you fold this thing up?"

Well, that started a whole big 10-minute ordeal wherein Heather was reading instructions and Michael, David, and I were attempting to follow them. Michael goes, "Okay, folks, how many adults does it take to collapse a stroller?" But we figured it out and it's brilliant.

Honestly, there just are not words for how blessed I feel to have these two people in our lives (and as Nina's godparents). They are THE most incredible, supportive, amazing people I think I've ever met. Heather has been the BIGGEST support to me during this entire ordeal and I will never be able to repay it.

When you're on kid #5, support isn't measured in gifts (especially when the economy is tanking), which is why it was really hard to accept this huge one. Heather and Michael have already given us the greatest gift just by being here for us. For asking what we need. For asking how we are. For taking an interest in Nina, in my trip, in our lives.

Support and friendship, by this point, is measured purely by the amount people show they care about us. I know that Nina is our umpteenth child. I know that the novelty of Liz popping out kids has worn off. But it's still a really big moment for us --- a moment's that's been in the making for over a decade. And the arrival of Nina is as special to us as our first baby was almost 9 years ago. Sure, after the first or second child, all the hoopla that are baby showers and doorstep dinners and storks in the front yard have worn off.

But our truest friends have celebrated Nina's arrival with as much love and excitement as they did Grace's arrival. They have taken a few minutes out of their own busy days to call and ask about Nina or email and ask about her (and the rest of us), to take genuine interest in this major shift in our lives. And to them (and they know who they are --- or aren't, frankly), I say Thank You. It means more than you know.

And, in fact, the blogging community has been fantastic. I've received so many wonderful comments and emails and it makes me even more glad to be a part of this wonderful group.

And because I'm sure it's clearer than the Caribbean sea, if you're wondering whether or not I'm saddened by the reality that folks I thought would be in contact in some way have not been, I am. I'm going to focus on the wonderful people who know me well or don't know me at all but nevertheless have been wonderful. It's just hard when you expect to receive a certain level of interest/support from someone or someones and it isn't there. It just requires a change in perspective I wasn't aware was coming.

But I LOVE the stroller, as I knew I would. Henry asked to push it today in Target (because he's freaking STILL home sick!) and I had to say No. Maybe next week.

Here's Nina with her Aunt Heather!

Brief Nina Update...

2008-08-13T12:53:00.000-07:00

First, a quick little "Hi" to Trendy Mindy, whom I've not yet met or corresponded with directly but who always posts such nice comments on my blog entries. Thank you - this does not go unnoticed!

Second, a little update medically on Little Miss Fantastic. She had her first pediatrician appointment this morning. You'd think this could have been well-coordinated in advance, and it was, but of course a wrench got thrown into things last minute.

Henry stayed home sick yesterday with a fever and a lot of aches. This morning, he wasn't doing much better, so I determined --- because, of course, I always have all the answers --- that he had strep throat. David didn't agree, but because David was in charge of taking George to his first day of preschool, I decided to call the doctor and see if we could get Henry in. Now, again, the call went like this:

"Hi. Henry has strep. Yes, I'm sure. Yes, I remember that I was sure last time and was also wrong. But this time I'm really sure. Can you get him in just for a culture? Oh, and it needs to be between 8:50 and 9:30. No? Can't do that? Okay - how about 10:15? Yes? Great."

You might wonder if this appointment was made with the same pediatric group I was taking Nina to. The answer? No. You see, our pediatric group, as I've mentioned, is really far away, so when there are issues like assumed strep throat we just take the kids to our family doctor, who is only 20 minutes away.

David's plans to hit the grocery store during the 1 1/2 abbreviated hours George was at school (abbreviated for the first 3 days) were canceled due to the inability to have groceries sitting in the car while he was in the doctor's office given that it's still 110 out. So we'll be eating PB&J tonight for dinner...again.

And all that reorganizing of schedules and plans? It was well worth it. Because his strep culture? Negative. So I'm not ALWAYS right (but I usually am).

Anyhoo - Nina weighed 12 lbs. 9 oz which is in the 32nd percentile, so that's good. She was 24 inches, which was in the 50th percentile which seems about right because I'm sure that even SHE will be taller than I am.

The doctor said she looks really healthy. Developmentally right on track. She did have to get FIVE shots (which is the standard now at 2 months, so she's only one set of shots behind), which included, I think, 7 vaccines.

We do need to consult with the pediatric cardiology group at Phoenix Children's Hospital because Nina does have what's called a Ventricular Septal Defect. It's a small hole between the lower chambers of her heart. The doctor said that the murmur was really quiet today so it could just be a Quiet Murmur Day OR the hole could be closing, which would be fantastic!

It was also recommended that we do an official newborn screening on her. This checks her thyroid and some other things and also checks for metabolic disorders and whatever else Arizona tests for in newborn screenings, which I understand isn't nearly as much as some states are testing for (of course -- because we live HERE). She also wanted to do some basic testing to check for Hep C, all STDs, etc. Fine.

So, I wasn't pleased that I'd have to go to a general lab around here because 1) they are always packed and 2) I knew that the phlebotomists (by the way, did you KNOW that to become a phlebotomist you don't have to have any formal training whatsoever? Like, I could go in there tomorrow, fill out an application, and be drawing your blood next week?) would just dig and dig around in her little arms. So, David, being at the OTHER doctor, mentioned to the P.A. there (who we love) what we needed and she said to bring Nina right over and she'd do the bloodwork for us. Wonderful.

Now, it didn't go perfectly. There was some digging in her left arm. We then moved to the right. That didn't look good either. Neither did the hand. She said we might have to go into her foot. "Fine, just not her head," I said.

On the second try, she got a good vein in her right arm and got what she needed. She said Nina has tiny veins. Of course she does.

Now I only have to take her to the lab for the heel prick for the PKU and the overall newborn screening. That I can handle.

She's now sleeping, as she deserves to be doing. The sick clown is NOT sleeping, nor is his younger brother. But I've got, maybe 15 more minutes of peace and I intend to enjoy every second.

Coming Soon...Tuesday in Ethiopia!

Continuing on...

2008-08-11T17:53:00.000-07:00

First, I must mention a little hilarity from around our house. Figuring out how to balance life with 5 kids, 2 dogs, and 2 companies (that have barely launched) is NOT easy. We've done this from the very beginning with no help. We have no family living nearby, and we've never hired so much as a house cleaner (okay, we have hired a house cleaner, but none more than once. I simply cannot pay someone $100+ if they don't know how to dust!) The house cleaner thing is about to change because, really, come on.

So, I look for hilarity wherever I can find it. I need my sense of humor in check or...well...I might kill myself.

This morning, Henry (who is one of our 6-year-old twins and who I will be lucky to survive --- those of you who know him understand this completely) came in and saw Nina wearing a little hair wrap in her hair - you know, the elastic kind that wraps around your whole head? He said, "Mom, when she wears that thing in her hair she looks just like you!"

Then, I gave Nina a bath and I brought her out to put her in her Exersaucer. George came over to say Hello. Henry says to George, "George, be careful. Mom just put handsome spray on her." Huh?

It's good he says funny things sometimes because, honestly, his behavior is taking years off my life. And that doesn't take into account his twin, Jack, who has had notes come home from school for the last two days noting that he is "not staying on track with his classwork and acting goofy." Great.

Anyhoo - back to Ethiopia and the moment I hit the wall.

We went back to the hotel to have lunch before our embassy appointment. The group had already seen me eat two fried eggs like a bird for breakfast and now they watched as I ordered tomato soup and ate only 3 bites. They really did not get to see the real Liz in action with food. I mean, with no younger ones to care for during meal time, trust me, I could have eaten my own weight in food. But that was not to be at this point.

Karen had ordered the tomato soup and said it was awesome. And I agree, it's pretty good --- if you're not so sleep deprived that you're starting to see dead people. After 3 bites, I thought, "I am going to puke my way through the rest of this day."

I went up to my room and took some Pepto (like, the whole bottle) and got some of my Preggie Pops (people use them for all sorts of issues other than pregnancy, folks, and I PROMISE you that pregnancy is the LAST thing I was using them for!). Nothing worked.

I went downstairs so close to tears that if I even looked at anyone I would have burst. I mentioned to a few folks that I was not doing so great. We trudged up to HH to get our kids and the whole time I kept thinking, "Oh my God, I'm not going to make it to the embassy. I'm going to fall DEAD before we get there. And then I can't take Nina home. Because I won't get through my appointment. Because I'll be dead."

The van ride was challenging. The diesel and the humidity didn't help, but being near the window did. Tim and Cheryl sat in the 3rd row with my Target barf bag and I told Tim, "Tim, if I say 'NOW!' throw that bag up here. Immediately."

We got to the embassy and had to go through two security checks. This was most interesting as I was feeding Nina as they were happening. My passport was out of reach so Almaz was practically reaching down my shirt to get it as I willed myself to "not barf on Almaz. She's an angel and you don't want to barf on an angel. That will surely get me into Hell in a hurry." Something in my pocket set off the metal detector. I emptied my pocket. The culprit? A Preggie Pop. Interesting.

Our embassy appointments were supposed to begin at 3:00. We were in our seats in the waiting room by 2:45. There were a number of others there --- some Americans finalizing their adoptions and some Ethiopians finalizing who knows what.

By this point, I could no longer hold Nina. Curtis graciously took her and toted her around for me as I sat with my head in my hand volleying between tears and heaving. It just made me so sad. This was NOT how this was supposed to play out. I never could have imagined that I'd fly for 18 hours and not sleep OR get to a nice, warm bed and proceed to not sleep for another 9! Coupled with the day in D.C. on Saturday and the time at the hotel between slumber times, I was up for nearly 51 hours straight. I got, maybe 2 hours of sleep during that time, but it clearly was not enough. The bottom line is that I should have been toting my own daughter around. My travel companions should have been nurturing their own kids with their spouses, not feeling like they'd adopted two! It was very upsetting and, of course, every time I contemplated that fact I started crying again.

Almaz continued to go upstairs to check to see what the holdup was. Trust me, if there was going to be a holdup, today was NOT the day for it to occur.

She came down a bit later and said that while she'd been told that the kids' medical reports had been received by the embassy the previous Friday, they were apparently not there. Long story short, she had to send a courier to pick up the medicals from someone somewhere and bring them to the embassy. That took nearly 2 hours.

By 4:30, Scott was in charge of Nina. Specifically, Scott was in charge of feeding Nina, which he did very well. Cheryl was in charge of making sure I didn't collapse permanently on the floor of the U.S. Embassy.

Finally, at about 5:05, our names began to be called. I was last, which was nerve-wracking only because I thought, "Oh dear Lord, am I not being called because there's an issue with her file that they won't be able to fix until next week and I'll have to stay here? In a hospital? Dead?"

Finally, they called my name. Cheryl went with me to the window (you know, in case I began to pass out and someone needed to catch Nina). This young guy was in charge of asking me questions. And when I say young, I mean, like, 10. Seriously. And I wondered, "How do you GET a job like this? At the U.S. Embassy in Ethiopia? Because if I had known that something like this was possible, maybe I could have had a career I actually enjoyed for a while."

So, he asked me all the requisite questions, for which Almaz prepared us very well, and that was that. Very anticlimactic.

One funny moment occurred when he addressed Nina's heart condition. She has a small hole in her heart and he needed to ensure that I was aware of that. He said, "I see here that the pediatrician noted that she has a small heart condition. Are you aware of that?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to proceed with the adoption?"

You have no idea, even as sick as I was, how tempted I was to say, "You know, on second thought, I don't."

I realize he has to ask me that, but seriously.

He then said, "Yeah, you know, I'd just suggest that you see a doctor in the U.S. about it."

Really? I'd never considered that.

"Because doctors in Ethiopia are good, but those in the U.S. are better."

Really?

"I agree," said Almaz, trying to end the whole thing before I died right there on her watch.

And that was it! We all got some documents that I shoved into my baby bag, learning later how important they are for re-adoption in the U.S. So, treat those papers with great care! You can't get them reissued later!

We then headed back to the vans and back to the hotel. At some point during all of this, Almaz asked me what was going on. I told her, and she said, "You can't take her back to the hotel tonight. You've got to sleep. The night special mothers will be thrilled to have her for one more night."

I seriously almost jumped on top of Almaz in gratitude. I would never have asked Almaz for this special treatment. And I didn't want to leave Nina at Hannah's Hope. But I wouldn't allow myself to be a martyr. I couldn't have cared for her properly that night by myself. And I knew a night of great sleep was just what I needed.

We went back to the hotel and I plugged in my ear plugs, put on my sleep mask, and hit the sack. I slept for 4 hours and then woke up and panicked. "What if I can't get back to sleep? Four hours isn't enough to get me out of this sleep-deprived mess!" But before I could finish the thought, I was out for another 4-5 hours. When I woke up on Tuesday morning, I was a completely different person. I was well-rested, far from nauseous, very hungry, and ready to go pick up my Nina!!!

Full Day #1

2008-08-11T12:06:00.000-07:00

On the morning of our first full day (Monday), I woke up...oh yes, I didn't really wake up, but I got up...and was ready for the day I would meet our new daughter! For the record, this is the bed I lay awake in for many, many hours on this trip.

While I was waiting to go downstairs for breakfast, I took some photos of some buildings across the street from the hotel. I learned from the hotel manager that this building, which Kristin took a picture of on her trip a few months ago, is going to be a clinic. The scaffolding is beyond description. It's just all wood! I have no idea how these folks feel safe on it and you now there isn't workers comp in Ethiopia!

Interestingly the sliver of a yellowish building to the clinic's right is a residence. I asked the manager about this because it's clearly a very nice home. He said that in Ethiopia, the rich live among the poor. There is no segregated area for them, no gated community if you will. Their homes are gated, but they're right there in the middle of all the hustle and bustle and poverty.

This is a picture on the other side of the hotel. This building will apparently be apartments when it's complete. I wonder how long it takes to build a building in Ethiopia because, let me tell you, it's not a quick process! These shacks to the left of the apartments being built are mostly residences. Danny, our fantastic friend and tour guide, lives in one of these with his parents, his sister and his brother.

At about 10:30, we all headed up to Hannah's Hope in the rain, which had thankfully slowed down.

We approached the gate and Almaz knocked. Dom, one of the employees there, answered and we began to slowly file in. Almaz had asked that the parents of older children go in first because the children were so anxious and if they had to sort through too many faces to find their parents they might become overwhelmed.

I will also take this opportunity to say that one of the many things about Hannah's Hope that so impressed me was the number of men working there. They have many jobs: drivers, handymen, and lifters of heavy things, but what struck me the most was their role with the kids. They provided an important male presence for all of the kids and at least one of them could always be found playing soccer with the older kids or chatting with a younger one. The toddler girls who were coming home with members of our travel group just loved some of these guys. I think it's so healthy that they are cared for by both men and women in this amazing place.

I was in charge of videotaping some of the parents meeting their older children. Watching that unfold was the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed, and I considered it such a privilege to be there to see how amazing these parents were in the way they approached their new children. I will never forget those moments for as long as I live.

After the older children had been united with their parents, Almaz individually united each family with their baby. I don't know where I fell in the line-up because I was having too much fun watching the older kids. At one point, I heard Almaz say, "Who has Rahel?" That's me!

She took me inside and told me to wait in a little room off to the side. I thought she was telling me that Rahel was in that room, which led to the confusion documented below. All of the babies were in the downstairs "baby room," and there were enough of them in there that it would have been nuts for me to try to go in there and find Rahel or be united with her in there. So, this little room was a great idea! Stuart graciously offered to videotape the meeting. She was exactly as I expected --- perfect (and very small!). She's a very content kid, which is good because after 4 who were NOT so content for the first year (or seven) of their lives, I deserve a content kid!

Here we are, still in that little room! Over the next few minutes, other families trickled in with their new babies. It was a great place to escape the constant movement in the front of HH. With it raining, everyone was inside. It's a lot of people to fit in there and there's lots of activity going on all the time with special mothers preparing bottles, cleaning, feeding babies, etc.

After 45 minutes or so, it was time to head back to the hotel for lunch before our embassy appointments. We were told to be back at HH at 1:50 sharp so that we could get our kids, load into the vans, and be at the embassy by 3:00.

Little did I know, I was about to hit a wall!

2008-08-10T10:32:00.000-07:00

Here's what I do when I can't muster the energy to get out of bed. Granted, it only seems to work for both other parties involved for about 6 minutes, but that's 6 extra minutes in bed for me!

Now, let's finish up Night 1 in Ethiopia, shall we? We got to the hotel and Danny, Johannes, and several hotel employees helped to carry our bags to our rooms. We had to fill out some registration forms at the front desk which was interesting because I, for one, was so tired that I could barely write! I was given a big, whopping key for room 103 and up I went.

The hotel really is quite nice as long as your expectations are in check. It's not the Sheraton and it's not the Ritz. But for the purposes you're there for, it's great. It's very clean and its location cannot be beat. The staff are very nice and will help you with whatever you need.

I took about 40 minutes to get my things organized for the next day and hopped into bed. Many thought the beds were rock hard, but I didn't think mine was too bad. I was very glad I'd brought my own pillowcase as there is just a sham on the pillows. However, if you forget a pillowcase, they do have some if you ask. There is also a large exercise room if you're so inclined. Frankly, at 8500 feet I think I might have died if I tried to work out there! (Plus, did I mention, I hate to work out and I had about a million great excuses not to in Ethiopia.)

For the next 8 hours, I tossed and turned but never slept. For those who've heard that the Call to Prayer occurs at 5:30AM, let me inform you that that's incorrect. It occurs at 12:30, 2:30, 4:30 AND 5:30 (at least) but for all I've heard about it being so loud as to be distracting, I didn't find it to be that loud. If you have earplugs, you won't hear it at all.

The dogs, however, ARE distracting. They bark and fight all night long. I understand why Ethiopians find it unacceptable to keep dogs as pets; I wouldn't want those dogs as pets either!

After 8 hours of sleeping not a wink, it was time to get up to get ready for the day. My shower was most interesting. It was a plastic tub with no curtain or door and a hand held shower head attached to the wall. But I had hot water, and that's all I cared about. Also, there are water heaters in the bathrooms so if you hear this weird whirring noise at around 5:00AM that sounds like someone's frothing milk in your bathroom, it's the water heater heating the water. Honestly, at first I was like, "WHAT is THAT?" So, hopefully this will save you that alarm!

Some rooms have incredible showers. I went into Karen and Curtis' room and was like, "Oh my LORD. If this were my bathroom, I'd be in the shower all DAY!" They had an enclosed shower with a nozzle at the top that made it like the shower were raining on you and then power jets all around the sides of it.

Almaz was to meet us at the hotel at 9:00 and we'd heard breakfast can take a while, so we wanted to get down there nice and early.

I ordered two fried eggs which I barely choked down. Chris was like, "Are you going to eat those? Because if you're not, I am." I was so nervous that I was shaking and felt very cold. In hindsight, this was likely the beginning of my body shutting down from lack of sleep. Others ordered the pancakes (which rocked; they were like funnel cakes) and coffee. The coffee is amazing. It's this dark brown syrup-y looking stuff. It's the real deal and folks could not get enough of it. You can order it anytime of day (or night, in all likelihood). The cappaccinos were delicious. And the hot tea hit the spot since it was so chilly out!

Almaz came at 9:00 in the midst of an incredible rainstorm and we started to get our paperwork finalized. Again, the paperwork requirements change frequently, so take an extra set of paperwork that's blank (with your spouse's signature if he doesn't go with you) and that way, if something isn't filled out correctly you can just start again without any stress.

Around 10:30 we got ready to head over to HH. I don't think any of us had fully processed that we were about to meet our children. It was hard to fully enjoy the walk to HH as we were all hovering under umbrellas and really watching our step so as not to slip on or trip over the stones that made up the street.

And then, there we were. In front of that big red gate we've seen a million times in photos. The gates to All God's Children....

Life As I Know It (For Now)...

2008-08-09T13:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, to my recent very long post about transracial adoption I'll add some of my more recent thoughts (processing all these new ideas is a work in progress that, frankly, I'm really enjoying).

I went to umpteen stores today with Nina and I learned after not too long (because I'm trying to be very present in my thoughts about all this right now) that I don't wonder about or worry about what other white people think of my new little bundle. And I don't worry per se about what African Americans think. But I do wonder. And I am aware of and interested in the fact that I wonder. And, for someone who, when initially considering adoption from Ethiopia, was concerned about the seeming lack of African Americans in my area, let me tell you --- there isn't a lack.

I read a post on another blog a while ago about the idea that if you want to see something, look for it (and the author of that post, as a black woman in the midst of adopting from Ethiopia, was referring to the numbers of black Americans around her as well. She noted that someone had recently said to her that there weren't any, and she responded that she sees them everywhere!). How right she was; when you're cognizant of what you're seeing, what you're looking for is all around you.

Anyway, I became aware of two main things today: 1) I don't make eye contact with anyone when I'm shopping which takes me back to my days with newborn twins. If you make eye contact, you're inviting a question or an opinion. If you don't, you aren't. It has nothing to do with having an Ethiopian child or having newborn twins, it has to do with needing to get what I need to get without people's questions, comments, opinions, or hands getting in the way. 2) I realized that no matter the color of their skin, people who aren't going to comment nicely or support our family dynamic aren't people I'd want to be in a relationship with even outside of the adoption experience. So, frankly, if they're going to comment rudely (which NO ONE has done), I see it as a bit of a blessing. Show me your true colors now; that way, I don't waste time with pleasantries or thinking we're having an exchange that we're not having.

Okay - that whole thing is a work in progress for me. But I've gotten some nice comments about it and I enjoy writing about it.

One more thing I must say: I took Nina to three stores today to find her a bathing suit. We went to Target, Old Navy, and Marshalls. No bathing suits. The employees said they are "out of season." I'm sorry, What? We live in the desert, it's August and therefore hotter than f*^& (sorry, but it is), and bathing suits are out of season? Unbelievable. So I went to Gap.com and ordered her a suit and a cover up to the tune of $31. I was hoping for something more like $6 at Marshalls. However, she's going to be so cute in it that we won't notice the bill. I hope.

Now, to the trip.

Here I am in my wonderful seat (3L) preparing for takeoff from Dulles. The flight was long, yes, but it wasn't as long as I'd imagined. The stop in Rome certainly helped just in terms of breaking it up. We were fed constantly (it seemed), and three movies were shown, none of them good. Even in business class, we didn't have our own TVs on this plane (we did coming back, but didn't know it until we were about 29 minutes from landing!).

I now realize why business class on Lufthansa or British Airways costs $10,000 while on Ethiopian Air it cost about $4,000. I have now made it my personal mission to somehow get a business class seat aboard Lufthansa or British Airways to Ethiopia to see how THAT expeience is. Not happy that we likely have to land in Khartoum, Sudan for refueling, but hey, it's all part of the experience, right?

As I mentioned in my Tip List, the flight attendants declared it naptime after each meal. I never took out my laptop or my book, but I did do a few crossword puzzles and am pleased to report that I completed my first one ever without getting help from the answers section!

I stared at this screen in as zombie-like a manner as I stare at the Weather Channel. Seriously, I could watch the Weather Channel 24 hours a day. It puts me in a meditative state. It was interesting to see the lakes and countries that I honestly didn't know exist. I'll admit that I did not like watching this screen when we were over the Atlantic because the idea that, if we have have to make an emergency landing, the only option is the ocean was not a great feeling.

This is a hanger at the Rome airport. This sign does say Aeroporti di Roma. I was beyond sad to know that I was in Rome and this was all I was going to see! The crew got on board to clean, restock, etc and I was like, "Okay, talk - I want to hear Italian!" By this point, I was tired enough that I asked Karen, "Do you think that the new crew will be Roman?" She said, "You mean Italian?" Yes, that's what I mean. I'm an idiot.

And here I am in baggage claim in Addis Ababa. We got through the Visa line and the customs line rather quickly and our bags were already coming out when we got into the baggage area. Thanks to Curtis for taking this picture (and so many others), proving that I indeed was in Ethiopia!

After this, the van ride to the Union Hotel Apartments took about 45 minutes. It was surreal to realize we were in Ethiopia while trying to take in the scenery around us (but NOT take in the diesel fumes!). It was raining (which it continued doing for the next 3 days). While we were loading the vans, several men came over to help load the luggage. We weren't prepared for this and were all digging through our purses to find $1 bills for each of them.

On the ride to the hotel, many Ethiopians came to the van's windows when we were stopped knocking and begging for food or money. The one image that will stick with me forever was a girl, maybe 10 or 11 years old, who came up to the opposite side of the van from where I sat. She said, "Welcome to Addis Ababa" and continued asking for "just one" over and over again. Her voice and the look in her eyes was as vacant as you can imagine. It was like there was a physical body there, but no spirit. It was the truest picture of complete despair I could ever imagine. I thought, "We'll keep going. But they'll do this all night every night, probably for the rest of their lives." It's something I can't even begin to process, and possibly never will. Trust me, nowhere in this country do we see ANYTHING like this.

I will note that I liked the smell of Addis Ababa. Okay, not the diesel. But there was a sort of smoky smell that permeated the air. It reminded me a bit of Sedona, AZ and all the incense burned there. We later learned that the smell was from the coal that those living on the roadsides burn night after night to stay warm.

This is the image that everyone longs to see - Johannes waiting with his sign! Johannes and Danny are as gracious as you'd imagine. They do this same thing time after time and the energy they have makes you think it's the first time they've ever done it. They are truly committed to these children and to their families and it was such a joy to spend time with them. I think we need to get them to the U.S. for a few weeks!!!

More to come...

Funny, Crazy Day

2008-08-06T21:06:00.000-07:00

Well folks, Nina's sweet little disposition headed a bit south today. Not sure why, but by 10:00 this morning I was convinced she had an ear infection. So I called the pediatrician and made an appointment.

Now, making an appointment with said pediatrician is harder than you might imagine because the call goes something like this: "Hi. I need an appointment because blah blah blah. However, keep in mind that I'm 45 minutes away and my older kids get out of school at 2:45 so I have to be out of your office by 2:00 - better make it 1:45 in case of traffic - or I could come sometime after 3:30 but then I have to be out of there by 4:30 because two of my older kids have Tae Kwon Do and at the rate I pay for them both to participate, they may not miss a session unless they are hospitalized. Yes, my daughter's name is Nina. Oh, but for insurance purposes you'll have to put Rahel. Why? Well, Nina's not the name on her birth certificate. Did we decide we didn't like her name? No. It's sort of convoluted. Familiar with international adoption? No? Okay - just put Rahel on everything and we'll work it out later. She's not in the system? That's weird. David said he called. Oh, you have a Nina born on 4/19? No, I'm bringing a Rahel born on 4/20. Again, long story ... Yes, I'm sure this kid is mine. And yes, right now it is very much all about me."

20 minutes into our drive to the doctor with George in the back complaining that whatever was on Satellite TV wasn't what he wanted (again), I thought (after I considered how potentially stupid I was for thinking that Satellite TV would save my life), "Uh oh, I had an interview 12 minutes ago for an article in Pregnancy magazine. Hm."

Honestly, this week is insane. The big kids started school on Monday, they're exhausted beyond reason, Henry claims his teacher told him that he alone is exempt from homework all year long, Grace wants a playdate every afternoon, and I'm again subsisting on handfuls of Craisins and four non-consecutive hours of sleep per night.

We arrived at the pediatrician (love the pediatric group, wish they'd open a satellite campus) to learn that she's healthy as can be (no ear infection, but does have fluid in her ears which is potentially bothering her), likely beginning to teeth (great), weighs 12 pounds, and commands a lot of attention.

Some women in the waiting room were very enthralled with her and overheard when the receptionist asked if I had adopted her and from where. So, with that cat out of the bag, out came all the questions. One woman literally flew over to the seat next to me with a "Can I please hold her?" request as though she were nine and Nina were a koala bear, to which I replied, "Uh, no." I always think that's weird. I mean, what makes people think that a 3-month-old is going to be super comfortable with a complete stranger? Not to mention the 3-month-old's mother?

So then, this same lady leans forward with the anticipation of a kid on Christmas Eve and says, "So, what was it like. Tell me all about it."

"What was what like?"

"Getting her. Going to Africa. What was that like?"

"Well, it was ---"

"I mean, like, did you just, like, walk into a room and say, 'I'll take that one?'"

Um, what?

"Yes, that's exactly how it works. You just waltz into a big room, look around, identify the cutest one, say 'I'll take her,' and head for the airport."

Good God, people. Okay, so I didn't utter the above line, but really, I was like, "Lady, I actually have a negative amount of desire to educate you on this process right now." I don't remember exactly what I said, but it consisted of no more than five words, I'm sure.

During one of Nina's many crying fits today, she was in her crib and I'd gone in there about 15 times to replace the o'mighty pacifier and finally Jack (who's 6) says, "Mom, do you need me to go in there and try?"

Yes, please.

He goes in, and about 6 minutes later emerges with a lollipop casually dangling from his mouth as he says, "Mom? Yeah. She's either really hungry or she really wants out of there."

Thank you for that assessment.

Finally, at 7:00 she fell asleep. I'm sure she'll wake up any minute for the rest of the night. But for now, I'm enjoying the first moments of peace I've had all day and I'm loving every second.

Differences...

2008-08-05T13:37:00.000-07:00

Still working on the day-to-day activities in Ethiopia. It'll probably take a year to get all that down!

In the meantime, I thought I'd post a bit about my thoughts on the experience of actually becoming a transracial adoptive family. I've debated posting about this. It's a heated topic - or, at least, it can become one.

I want to first say that I'm a pretty open person. I'm more than happy to put myself out there and welcome what comes back. However, what comes back must be respectful. These sorts of discussions are important. But the only way they work is if everyone engaged is respectfully engaged. If your opinion is fixed, and it differs from mine, we'll never get anywhere. I don't have time to travel long roads that have a Dead End sign fixed in cement fifty miles away! Before I had Grace, I worked as the communications lead for the North American diversity program of a major consulting firm. The issues aren't new to me, but the perspective from which I see them certainly is.

I have four biological children, two of whom look NOTHING like me. Seriously, blond hair and blue eyes. When we were initially with the Guatemala program, it was mentioned more than once that a Guatemalan-born child might very well look more like me than these two biological children of mine. I've been asked many times if one of my blond-haired, blue-eyed babes is the other's friend or if I'm a nanny or if, as though surely the answer is no, they are all mine. And before anyone says anything, I do understand that having a biological child who isn't the spitting image of you is different from having a child of a different race altogether who became a member of your family through the gift of adoption. I'm merely pointing out that I don't have four biological kids whose features scream, "My genes are hers!"

But I also wonder, "Isn't there another dynamic at play here besides skin color? At least when you're talking about adoption from Ethiopia?" At first blush, I realize that people are initially staring because she's black and I'm white. When speaking about domestic transracial adoption, meaning a black or bi-racial child adopted into a white family, I suppose it's possible that if a black family were available to adopt that same child, they might (if they chose) be able to provide that child, or continue for her, a heritage that a white family couldn't provide in the same way. But, with regard to an Ethiopian-born child, even if a black couple did adopt her, there's still a missing link: the child resembles the parents, and I acknowledge that a black parent is likely far better equipped to help a black child deal with issues of racism, etc., but the issue of a lost culture remains. It stands to reason, in my mind, that an African American family cannot necessarily nurture the lost culture or language of an Ethiopian-born child any better than I can.

And, in the end, what are the alternatives on the table? When you have a child, whether white, black, or purple, who needs a loving home and family, would anyone out there prefer that that child languish in the foster care system or on the streets of Addis Ababa homeless and hungry to being raised in a loving home where her parents are doing all they can to honor her heritage, even if they are learning themselves as they go? I know there are folks out there who would prefer the former. But it makes little to no sense to me.

I watched the CNN special "Black in America" several weeks ago and thought it was well done. It didn't address transracial adoption specifically, but the general discussion was still relevant. One thought I had as it ended was, "It sometimes seems as though there's a strong need to separate black and white, to make the issue black and/or white (literally and figuratively). Is there any possibility at all that transracial adoption might provide an opportunity to bring these two communities together? To begin discussions that wouldn't otherwise begin? To break down stereotypes?" I also know this is perhaps an easy question for me to ask because I am white. I only know it from my perspective and my experiences. But considering that white families are adopting as their sons and daughters children from other races, does it not make some level of sense for these cultures to come together and try to learn from and about one another, not only for the good of the children, but for the good of mankind?

I read a fantastic book a while ago called The Faith Club which was based on dialogue between a Christian woman, a Jewish woman, and a Muslim woman. The Christian woman obviously represented the majority. But she was in there, in the conversation to be heard and to learn. And I think both occurred. The overall intent of the discussions was the same as I just mentioned: put the stereotypes on the table, put the misconceptions out there to be corrected. And this occurred between three friends. The discussions weren't always easy, but I think the three women would all agree that they are better for having them. And I assume they are still friends! I think it's too easy to respond to white parents' vows to want to learn and engage in the dialogue by simply saying that it's easy to be in our shoes. To say that is also just an easy response. Many of us are eager to listen, to learn, to understand. That's one of the guiding premises that brought many of us to this place. It's not fair to dismiss us simply because we're seen as "having it easy."

I know it's not as simple as this, but we must start somewhere and let it branch out into as many limbs as necessary. Again, provided we teeter respectfully. Without respect, we can't get real far.

Anyway, when we were in Ethiopia, I was of course very aware as we drove and as we walked that it was evident that I was adopting an Ethiopian child. It was clear to everyone around me. It was clear to those looking into the windows of our van and clear to those who passed us as we walked to Hannah's Hope or to the Addis Ababa Golf Club. It was clear to the hotel staff, who see this same thing week after week.

After having a baby biologically, I've been out and about and people have stared. I've KNOWN what they were thinking, "A little baby!" Everyone loves a baby. But in Addis Ababa, I became conscious that I was wondering what they thought --- and certainly not confident that it was as simple as, "Oh, what a cute baby!" That feeling was exacerbated as I entered the U.S.

In Ethiopia, I wondered, "What is that person thinking? Does he or she support this? Does he or she think poorly of me (or not) without having a clue who I am simply because I am carrying this child?" Almaz told us that most Ethiopians are very open to the idea of adoption by Americans (or Europeans) because it means a life for these children that they could not have in Ethiopia. However, there are some who are opposed to the idea, and they are very loud about it. For that reason, Almaz and a few others involved in adoptions on the ground in Ethiopia now choose to keep families a little more protected and sheltered than they perhaps did in the past. This may speak to why there aren't as many public outings as there once were (though I also think that has to do with the reality that packing so much activity into four days can be challenging given the circumstances).

Watching TV in the hotel in Addis, I was struck by the way that Americans are portrayed. I know it's propoganda, but really, it's no wonder that we're not liked all that much. Al Jazeera TV and Ethiopia's CBS division portrayed us in ways that made me laugh --- but only because I knew how ridiculous it was. Those who don't personally know an American and who assume we're all like this don't find it terribly funny. And to see one of us carrying one of them down the street, well, that probably doesn't always go over real well.

As I wandered the streets of Ethiopia with Nina, I again found myself wondering, "What do these people think of me?" As I sat on the plane next to an Ethiopian woman for 17 hours from Addis Ababa to Dulles, I wondered, "Does she approve of this?" When I got off the plane in Dulles and the ladies at the United check-in counter oohd and aahd over Nina I was so proud. And when the customs woman began making racist comments, I wanted to make a few comments of my own to her and to her supervisor. But I refrained. I decided not to give it more energy, to let the negativity stop right in my very tired --- and suddenly very annoyed --- brain. I decided that karma would bite her in the ass sooner than later and that was enough for me.

When I exited the international arrivals area and several Ethiopians or Ethiopian-Americans were standing waiting for their friends/family members to exit, I wondered what they thought. Their faces revealed nothing. Nor did the faces of the African Americans standing nearby. Ditto for the faces of those who look like me. Perhaps we were all just exhausted. Perhaps there was nothing more to it than that.

And then I again began thinking of terminology (as I was dragging myself and all my gear out of the terminal; deep thoughts for someone who's nearly incoherent.). African American vs. Ethiopian American vs. Black vs. White. The topic can feel so complicated. Probably because it is so complicated. And you want to be able to boil it all down to something simple, like, "it's the HUMAN race." But I think that's ignorant. Because it's not that simple. It's nowhere NEAR that simple. And I know that most of all because of how I felt in the airport in Addis Ababa --- one of only 15 or so white people. Suddenly, some things were awfully clear. Suddenly, I felt the shoes. Just for a moment. We want it to be simpler because it feels like that would make it easier. But ignoring the elephant in the room doesn't make him disappear.

As I walked through the Dulles terminal, exhausted beyond measure, I cried each time someone smiled at me or at Nina. And I cried when a black woman at my gate glared at me. Or did she? Was I too sensitive to what I perceived her opinion to be? To what I interpreted from her facial expression (or lack thereof)? Maybe she was tired, just like me.

And when I bypassed a newspaper stand and then went back, feeling like I should buy water and the woman at the register asked if Nina was Ethiopian and I said Yes and she said, "I am Ethiopian!" I turned into a puddle right there over a stack of New York Times. She bent down and kissed the tops of Nina's hands in typical Ethiopian fashion and talked to her. Her name was Mimi. She gave me a discount on my water. I cried most because I knew that I was meant to walk into that shop to be filled with a bit of validation.

At my departure gate, a woman marveled at Nina. Another woman asked how long we'd been traveling. When I said, "25 hours," she asked where we'd come from. "Ethiopia," I answered. The woman who'd been marveling put two and two together and asked, "Oh, you adopted her?" I was flabbergasted. It was the first time that Nina's adoption wasn't assumed. I felt great hope at that moment. And I know the assumptions will run the gamut: that my husband is black (or that David's wife is black), that Nina is a product of the American foster care system --- perhaps a baby born to a drug-addicted mother, that I'm babysitting. And just as people assume one of my twins is smarter than the other, or that they have two different fathers because they look so different, I'll have to get used to it.

As an adoptive parent of a child of a different race, I've considered and researched the concept almost to death. And it did scare me at first. I had many questions and few answers. Most important, I had few answers in my own heart. But after reading and thinking and talking and thinking some more, I found those answers. And that was all I needed. What I realized was that no matter what you do, someone won't be happy with you. Heck, I didn't breastfeed my twins for more than 4 weeks and I got an earful from some. People get pregnant with quads and don't reduce and the minute they make that fact public, someone will judge - loudly. People who choose to homeschool are often judged simply because it's not "the norm." Fill your cart with Cheetos and someone's going to whisper something to her companion about how your kids are going to get fat and score low on tests and need cholesterol medication by the time they're 8! Have a child with a physical challenge and people might stare. Have kids pitching a fit because you won't buy them M&Ms and people might stare. Have 4 kids waddling behind you pinching each other and whining in Target and, trust me, people WILL stare. Have a child of another race and people might stare. But is it personal? Maybe. Maybe not. What we have to get a hold of is our own comfort level with and confidence in our choice --- in each of these situations. That's Step One.

At the end of the day, we have to be able to make decisions that are right for our family without worrying about what the rest of the world will think (or say). That's what keeps us sane. At the same time, we must remain flexible to issues that may arise and have the presence and the grace to respond in a way that is in line with our values as people and as parents and in a way that protects the spirits of our children.

But, when you have other children especially, you consider how they will be affected by certain questions or comments. I've already experienced this in the twins world. I've had folks ask me right in front of Jack and Henry which one is smarter. I've had people say right in front of my 3 boys how sorry they feel for me that I have 3 boys. The Double Trouble comment is so old it's beginning to decay. In many ways, I believe all these instances are learning experiences for our kids as well --- to hear things and to know when to ignore them, when to stand up for themselves and their siblings, and when to say something in response (which, while I wouldn't advise it in most instances, I have no doubt Henry will do sooner than later!).

Miraculously, over the last 3 days, I've felt all my concerns and all my anxieties over what people might think dissipate. I went to Babies R Us today and honestly didn't care if people were looking or what they were thinking. I went to Babies R Us on Saturday with Heather and didn't want to notice what people's reactions were because I was still tired enough that an obvious reaction one way or the other would have rendered me hysterical once again. Heather said most everyone smiled. And I believe that in the long run, most everyone will. But I can't expect everyone to. And as I expect them to respect my choices, I must respect their opinions --- especially if they aren't made known with unkind words.

So, here we are. We're a bi-racial family. And even after only one week, I can pronounce unequivocally that I love Nina as much as and in the exact same way as my four biological children. And this does not surprise me in the least. I know that she's Ethiopian and that her birth culture and history are different from mine and from our other four children. As her mother I want to honor those differences in every way that I can. And I'm not so naive as to insinuate that she has differences just like our biological kids have differences. I hope I'm not that unaware.

I'm willing to put myself out there and enter discussions about transracial adoption. I'm willing to entertain respectful, intelligent discussion about issues related to it. I'm willing to step foot, potentially as the only white person, into the Ethiopian Orthodox church in our area. I want to learn all I can. Not just for her, but for me.

But more than anything, I'm willing to love this child for the rest of my life. I'm willing to offer her whatever she needs to find success, to feel love, to be who she is and to know from where she came. That is what her birthmother wanted for her. That is what I was asked to provide for her. That is the promise I made from the bottom of my heart. From here on out, I am her mother. And in the end, once I shoo all the other complicated issues aside, it boils down to only that. And in that, I feel great peace.

Lessons

2008-08-04T13:49:00.001-07:00

Well, Nina absolutely has her days/nights flipped (as do I), but it's getting better. We've noticed how much she loves to twirl her hair. If I had as much as she does, I would too!

Before too much time goes by, I want to do a brain dump of lessons learned (or just things learned) during our trip to Ethiopia. I'm still working on the overall what-we-did-and-how-it-went entries, but since there is another travel group leaving this weekend, I thought I'd get these out on the table.

1. Do not go alone. I can't emphasize this enough. It has nothing to do with safety; I felt very safe in Ethiopia. It also has nothing to do with independence. I'm a pretty independent person. It has to do with logistics. For one, I didn't sleep for the first 51 or so hours of the trip and I hit a major wall around hour 52. I felt horrible and could barely manage Nina (in fact, I could not manage Nina which is why my entire travel group had to manage her and practically carry me to the window at the U.S. Embassy as I repeated to myself, "Do not barf on the embassy person...Do not barf on the embassy person..."). When you're toting a baby and a baby bag and a camera and God knows what else, it's a challenge. If nothing else, it's great to have someone else to hand the baby (or the bag, or the camera) off to, and it's preferable that that someone isn't consistently a poor member of your travel group.

Also, should you need someone to carry you to the window of the U.S. Embassy, better to ask someone you know really well, I say. And if you're going to barf on someone, or almost barf on someone, better be someone you know really well.

So, if your spouse can't go with you, ask a friend. Or a sister. Or a brother. Or a mother-in-law. Or a strange man sitting at the end of an exit offering to work for food. Anything. But don't go alone. And if you HAVE to go alone, see recommendation #3 and heed it.

2. The hotel does not have clocks. Take a travel clock, preferably with a light and definitely with an alarm.

3. Take a sleep aid for the plane and for the first night. It's simply not easy to sleep on the plane. I flew business class and it still wasn't easy. I wish VERY badly that I'd had a sleep aid for the plane and then again for our first night (Sunday) in Addis Ababa. It would have made Monday far more palatable (for me AND for my travel group). Get something over the counter or prescription and try it two times before you go so you know how you'll respond to it.

4. Consider getting a sleep mask on which you can write "Wake Me For Meals" or "DON'T Wake Me For Meals." I'm thinking of inventing this product, in fact. I swear, we had dinner at 9:30 after takeoff on the way to Addis, and that ended around 11:00. Then, at 3:30, the flight attendant lifted up my sleep mask and announced in this sing-songy WAY too happy voice, "It's time for breakfast!" I was like, in what time zone is it time for breakfast? We just ate!

5. Be prepared for some weird daycare type antics on the plane. As Karen mentioned, we were instructed to close our windows after meals. This occurred as we were crossing over into the African continent and I was like, "Uh, no. I need to see this." The little sliver of window I opened let enough light into the cabin to get a flight attendant over to shut it again.

6. There are no personal air vents on the plane. It's usually a little warm on the plane, so be sure you're wearing a short-sleeved shirt at least underneath any other clothing you have.

7. Be prepared with $1 bills at the airport in Addis. When we went to the vans, quite a few young men appeared to help Johannes and Danny load the vans. They expected to be paid. We managed to come up with $1 for each of them, but we weren't prepared for it in advance.

8. The Visa on Entry window you go to when you get off the plane isn't a window really. It's a closet. Go there first and go as quickly as you can. The line gets long quickly. More importantly, the customs line gets long quickly and that process takes longer than the visa line.

9. We had great luck with luggage coming off quickly and we were able to get through the luggage X-Ray line quickly. Families who came through customs later or had to wait for their luggage had to push their way through the X-Ray line. So do what you have to do.

10. Take some healthy snacks with you: peanut butter, fruit cups, whole grain crackers, good nutrition bars, dried fruit, etc. And take Saltine crackers. They aren't the healthiest thing, but if your stomach is a little off, they are a great thing to have, even if they're crushed to smithereens inside your suitcase. What you don't eat you can either leave or give to Danny who lives across the street from the hotel in a little shack. Trust me, this kid will melt your heart.

11. Ethiopian Air will weigh your carry ons. They need to weigh less than 14 pounds each. If they are in hard suitcases, they'll likely require you check them. I had a backpack and a carry on bag and they weighed neither. If I were to do it again, I'd get a backpack on wheels and put it on my shoulders before boarding so they didn't realize it was on wheels and insist on weighing it. It got very heavy very quickly with a laptop inside of it!

12. We took Similac Singles with us which were a godsend! I switched Nina cold turkey to the Similac and she did very well. In fact, I don't think any families bought formula in Ethiopia so plan to take some. She did get a bit constipated - didn't poop for 2 days. Our pediatrician said the formula was likely richer than what she was used to and, more important, the iron content was likely significantly higher which would cause constipation. Talk to your pediatrician about taking Karo Corn Syrup or pure prune juice with you. We were told that we could put 1 Tbsp of corn syrup per 2 oz of formula OR give Nina 1 1/2 oz of straight prune juice 3-5 times a day in between bottles. We didn't end up needing to as she worked her issues out right before we boarded the plane, but it wouldn't be a bad idea to have something with you. Almaz was able to give some families ground flax seed to put in their cereal for their constipation issues, but Nina was too young for that (she's not eating cereal yet).

13. Take your own pillowcase.

14. The Union Hotel now has a generator so you don't need to take flashlights, glowsticks, headlamps, etc.

15. Drink, drink, drink when you are there. You'll be dehydrated from the flight and the altitude. Putting single serving Propel packs in your water bottles really helps.

16. The food at the Union is quite good and none of us were bothered by it at all. The coffee will save your life.

17. Many people wondered what to put in the babies' hair. Hannah's Hope puts baby oil in their hair. I took a product I'd read about called Carol's Daughter. It's a whole line of products for African hair. I took a spray-on leave-in conditioner that smells great and keeps Nina's hair really soft. You can get it at Sephora or check online.

18. Flexibility is King. Truly. Just be flexible about everything and it will all go swimmingly. You paperwork may not be filled out just right, so take an extra blank copy so you can start again if need be. The daily schedule may be altered due to this or that. Our embassy appt was supposed to be at 3:00 and it wasn't until 5:00 because the kids' medicals hadn't arrived yet. This was most unfortunate as each passing moment brought me closer to needing a clinic in a third world country, but in the end it's all about trusting that Almaz knows what she's doing, that the hotel staff will help you with what you need, and that, in general it will all work out. You are on a mission on this trip: to pick up your child(ren). In the end, getting them and bringing them home is the main goal.

19. I got a great money belt at Target for $6.99. It worked great to hold all my cash for the trip. I also got a Passport/boarding pass/money holder at Target that I wore around my neck. Between these two things, I had all the important documents with me at all times.

20. The rainy season is June - September. It's quite chilly especially in the morning and at night. The hotel does not have heat, so it's cold at night. They do have heavy, warm blankets on the beds, but be sure to take warm pajamas for you and your child(ren) and also layers for the day. I had capri pants and was a real fashion statement because I was so cold that I had to pull my socks up mid-calf to keep my legs warm. It's best (in my opinion) to wear a short sleeved shirt with a long-sleeved shirt overtop and have a water-resistent jacket or a fleece to wear on top of that. Also, take plenty of socks!!! You feet WILL be cold in sandals without socks. I wore the same pair for 5 days. I know, gross. I burned them when I got home.

21. It matters not whether you're in economy or business class, a travel pillow is an absolute MUST (which I know because I didn't have one). I did take my own travel blanket, but that was not worth it. It took up a lot of space and didn't give me a ton of the "homey" feeling I thought it might. The blankets you get on the plane are fine, and the hotel blankets keep you very warm.

If I think of any others as I write my updates, I'll note them. This was just an initial brain dump. Honestly, pretty soon with all of us posting our thoughts, we're going to have this travel experience down to a nice tight little process!

Settling In...

2008-08-03T10:15:00.000-07:00

The first day at home was pretty uneventful. David handled the nighttime feedings on Friday night (since I was incoherent) and Nina got up about every 3 hours to eat, but then easily went right back down. I think David's exact words were, "This is too easy."

He perhaps should not have said that because, as of yesterday, she's got her days and nights confused. And why wouldn't she? When it's day here, it's night in Ethiopia and vice versa. This might also explain why I was staring at the ceiling at 3:00AM for about an hour. She slept a TON yesterday, but was then partying most of the night. We have graduated her to 6 oz bottles from 4 oz bottles, so perhaps that will help. Who knows. One thing I've learned after 4 kids is that there is not necessarily rhyme or reason to anything they do!

I have so much to write about the trip and I hope to tackle that slowly (but not too slowly as I'm afraid of forgetting things!). I also have a slew of travel tips (as do Karen and Sharon, I'm sure) so between the 3 of us, you should get an earful.

The kids are in love with her. Grace and Jack are constantly like, "Where's Nina? What does she need? What are we going to do with her hair?" Jack always checks on her when she's sleeping and likes to report back that, "She's still sound asleep!" George doesn't pay her much attention and Henry, as expected, pays her basically NO attention. However he did make a sign yesterday that has a heart on it and says, "I will love Ninia forevr." That's Henry.

For now, here are some photos from yesterday.

Grace is in heaven. Finally, she has a sister!

First bath time!

All dressed up for George's 4th birthday party!

The birthday boy.

Introducing....

2008-08-02T08:38:00.000-07:00

NINA RAHEL ELIZABETH LYONS

More later!! (I'm going back to bed now)

A Great Read...

2008-07-22T21:08:00.001-07:00

Okay, I'm back sooner than expected (to the blog, not from Ethiopia)!

I came across a really neat blog tonight, one I've added to my Reader and look forward to reading from this point forward. This woman, Valarie, has a wonderful voice. This particular post really struck me.

For those of you waiting - whether for referrals, for travel, for something else related to your adoption - it is hard. Waiting is hard. The not knowing can be the hardest.

But this post made so much sense to me that I thought it should be available. So here it is. For any of you waiting, I hope it perhaps gives you a new way to view the days doing so.

T Minus 3 Days...

2008-07-22T15:26:00.000-07:00

3 days before I take off to D.C.! I can honestly say I'm TOTALLY ready to go. Bags are packed, necessities are taken care of, George's birthday presents are wrapped, etc. All to-dos are checked off (this is a blessed miracle because the to-do list was around 3 full pages when I started last Monday).

At this point, I sort of liken my state of mind to that of a woman who's had about 2 months too long to plan a wedding. It's all ready to go, all details are finalized, but now there's debate over whether the sugar on the tables should be cubed or granulated because, really, there's nothing else to do but debate that! In the end, sugar is sugar is sugar. The stress over the cubed versus granulated quickly becomes unhealthy.

And so it is. The last-minute itsy bitsy concerns that arise, questions that come up, and general lets-get-on-with-it moments are getting in the way.

Thankfully, as hoped for, I've got 3 days to just hang with the kids and relax. All work ends are tied up, everything that has to get done is done. And what a great feeling that is!

I was able to get some new pictures of Little Miss Fantastic yesterday from a sweet friend who traveled in the last group. These meant so much to me. I've wondered how she's grown, and grown she has --- mostly in the area of hair growth! I've got to get up to speed FAST on how to do this child's hair. It's going to be longer than mine in about 30 minutes.

I'll do my best to post a picture (and the official name) of L.M.F. as soon as I return. I will have been traveling for, I think, 34 straight hours (solo, let's not forget) so I may need a little nap first, but don't worry. I'll be back to the blog soon!

Until then, please send a little vibe out into the universe that asks that I travel well, do NOT get sick, and have a super healthy and happy little baby to bring home to my already fantastic family.

Later!

6 Days and Counting...

2008-07-19T18:41:00.000-07:00

Alrighty. I forgot to mention that the other thing I had to do this past week was get 3 more shots. I'm now fully inoculated against just about everything for the next 10 years. Super.

Today I took Grace and Jack to see Kitt Kittredge which, I must say, was a fantastic movie. I didn't know how many big names were in it, and I think Joan Cusack is about the most hysterical actress alive. I really love American Girl, I just wish the products cost less because, as you can imagine, Grace marched out of the theater claiming to now NEED Kitt and her best friend Ruthie - at $90 each. Hmmm...

I think I'm actually finished shopping and am quickly becoming close to being ready to go. I must say that for me, I'm glad I only had 11 days to prepare. To add another week onto it would have been too much time. It seems counterintuitive since you'd think "the more time to prepare the better." However, my nerves are a bit on edge. I mean, I think that somewhere in the recesses of my brain my subconscious realizes that I'm going to AFRICA by MYSELF to bring home our FIFTH CHILD.

And while David is completely competent, the fact is that I've been the primary caregiver for almost 9 years and, even if he really really needs to, David doesn't exactly have the ability to call me and ask a question for 6 whole days. This is not bad; if a decision needs to be made about something, he'll make it. Aunt Heather and Uncle Michael are right across the street and are willing and available to help in any way should he need it. In a way, it's a good experience for him. And I've turned all responsibility over to him before --- several times. But I was always a phone call away. Even little things that aren't an emergency are easy for me to solve because I've experienced it all for so long. It's just easier sometimes for the wheel not to have to be invented because that sort of invention is rarely required.

In some ways I'm glad I'll be completely out of contact because David will get a taste of what it feels like for me when he's in Canada fishing for 7 days each summer with no access to cell phone towers or even email. At least he can receive an email or two from me in those 6 days. I have 7 days with no communication with him at all when he's in Canada!

Knowing that I'll be on the other side of the WORLD from my family (albeit with one special little member of it) is hard. Much as I beg to BE on the other side of the world from the chaos with frequency, the reality of doing it is a bit...well...nerve wracking. I think the best thing at this point is to just go and stop thinking about it already!

Without

Kristin

and Karen, I'd be pretty lost right about now. They are my lifelines. Kristin had so many amazing lessons learned to pass along from her recent trip to Ethiopia and Karen, as part of my travel group, has been a fantastic person to bounce ideas off of, and occasionally even commiserate with. I'm SO glad to be traveling with Karen!

So, in 6 days I'll leave for D.C. I'll spend the night at a hotel by the airport with my parents who are coming to see me off. At this time one week from now, I'll be on an airplane 1 1/2 hours in to a 17 hour flight to Ethiopia. And two weeks from tonight, our new daughter will be home and we'll be a family of seven. And for that, I can't wait.

Anxiety down...check

2008-07-17T08:14:00.000-07:00

Okay - after 3 whirlwind days, I was immeasurably pleased to wake up this morning at 7:00 feeling, as Fronk Egelhoffer would say in Father of the Bride Part 2, "refreshed, replenished, and raaaahring to go."

The emotional toll of the past 3 days was larger than I'd expected. The extreme excitement over going to get our girl combined with the anxiety of trying to book flights, trying to figure out how to PAY for flights, identifying exactly what I need and don't need, etc. created a bit of a monster. But I now hopefully have 8 days to just sort of chill.

For those of you who are awaiting referrals or travel, here are my latest tips on preparing:

1. Begin to assemble a packing list now. At some point here shortly, I hope to post a .pdf of my packing list that folks can download and print and modify as needed. I had a starting point (thank you Kristin Gresham!) and it saved me. To start with a blank canvas was more than a little daunting. Underwear...deoderant...water...THEN what?

2. Once you have your packing list assembled, start purchasing supplies and laying them out either in your nursery or, as I had to do because of 4 kids and 2 dogs (one of which likes to eat large things in full and then throw them up whole), keep them in their shopping bags in a closet or something. Check them off your list as you purchase them, but don't cross them off. You cross them off as they go into your suitcase.

3. Start thinking about suitcases. On Ethiopian Air, you can have two checked bags. The dimensions (l + w + h) cannot be greater than 64 inches and the bags themselves cannot weigh more than 50 pounds. I recently heard that another family whose bags all measured 65 inches (of course) went to Walmart and got duffle bags for $19.99 each that worked beautifully.

4. Start making a to-do list of things that will need to be done when the travel call comes in. I'm a pretty level-headed individual (I think; David would likely disagree), and I was so overwhelmed with excitement that I truly was like a poor headless chicken. Start the list with: reserve plane tickets, shop for supplies, photocopy passports and other important documents and keep a copy at home (or with someone) and also scan them in and keep an electronic copy on file so that, if necessary, someone can e-mail you a copy of these documents. I'll also hopefully post a to-do list for folks to modify.

Okay - I'm off to get ready for the travel conference call and to have a do-nothing day. I just wrote a blog for MomLogic on the beauty of do-nothing days that likely won't post for a month or so, but I have truly come to appreciate them.

Speaking of MomLogic, my new blog entry posted yesterday. Check it out! They took some grammatical editing liberties that were just plain incorrect, but whatever.

Hanging in...

2008-07-16T11:43:00.000-07:00

Okay, moving along. Progress is a good thing for my brain right now.

I officially booked my ticket this morning. I actually had to call the credit card company to let them know the charge was coming in because they typically call me for approval on anything over $450. Not kidding. I really appreciate their diligence, but suffice it to say that major alarms would have gone off over there when THIS charge came in!

I then took the boys to the pool (Gracey is at camp) to get some time in with them and do something they'd enjoy. Apparently, they don't care for endless errands to pick up neosporin, ear plugs, and pepto bismal. Makes little sense.

Jack, however, cannot WAIT to go with me on Friday to Babies R Us. He has very specific ideas about the patterns on his sister's carseat.

I also have to get an umbrella and some long-sleeved shirts as it's apparently the rainy season in Addis Ababa (the 10-day forecast predicts rain every single day, no sign of sunshine, and highs in the low 60s. Sounds a lot like Chicago to me).

Today I'm focusing mostly on getting some loose work ends tied up before I go.

More soon!

10-4

Preparing...

2008-07-15T21:50:00.000-07:00

I honestly didn't think there could come a time when I'd believe (more strongly than I have over the past 8 years) that there simply NEED to be more than 24 hours in a day!

I was wrong.

With 10 days to go, I'm a bit overwhelmed. Okay, frantic. But I'm going to make it.

My ticket is on hold and will be officially purchased tomorrow. Let's ignore chatter about its cost, shall we? It wasn't pretty. Totally worth it. Not pretty.

I finally started packing. I'd done the majority of my shopping a week or so ago, but yesterday I entered my closet no fewer than 8 times intending to start packing only to take one look at the bags of stuff, feel the beginnings of a panic attack, and escape to check email. Today, Gracey and I began with her trying to choose clothing for her sister and me trying to figure out what to put where in case all luggage gets lost.

We found out today that "N" is a lot smaller still than we'd anticipated she'd be, so I had NO clothes that would fit her. I'll be making a run to Babies R Us on Friday, when my nifty coupon becomes effective, to remedy that situation. My mom has put herself in charge of pajamas and is working to get 5 pair that she claims I'll hate (we have completely different opinions on what baby girls should wear; she's a pinafore gal, I'm a rock star gal). But I'm sure I'll love them. That poor woman entertains a phone call from me about every 6 seconds (again, trying to avoid the packing nightmare) and I think she feels like she's got to do SOMETHING so she's buying pajamas.

I will, unfortunately, miss George's 4th birthday by one day. This is not affecting him in the least. He could not care less as long as he has his Go Diego Go cake WITH Baby Jaguar. So, come hell or high water, I committed to finding the perfect cake. But then there's Aunt Heather, who swooped in and said, "Think never again about the cake. I'm on it. It'll be there. Not sure how, but it will." I love Aunt Heather.

I'm now going to bed. More tomorrow...

She's Ours!

2008-07-14T15:13:00.000-07:00

Okay, a little busy, but I'm heading to Africa!!!!! I can hardly believe this is finally here. More info to come. Our new daughter is coming home!

Shameless Plug...

2008-06-24T18:38:00.000-07:00

Okay, a little shameless professional plug. I've got a new gig writing a weekly blog on the multiples area of MomLogic.

When the editor contacted me a few weeks ago, the caller ID identified Warner Brothers. I flipped out (I mean, don't some famous people make movies for Warner Brothers? Like, had they seen me in all my glory in Target and determined I was the "next big thing?").

I then deflated upon realizing it was probably a telemarketing scheme. Then, for some crazy reason, I answered. When it became clear that the woman on the other end actually wanted to speak to me about something other than whether or not I could contribute $10, I had to do a fast and furious online lookup of the sign language sign for Shut. It. Down. so that I could communicate that message to my kids, who were screaming at me and each other right outside my office door as I tried to communicate, "Yes, that sounds lovely. I'd love to be involved. Yes, you're correct, I do have it all together."

Okay, so she didn't say she thought I had it all together, but it was fun to pretend that she (okay, anyone) said that. Just for a second. Just sayin'.

MomLogic is a site geared toward moms, obviously, but it's got a bit more of an edge than, say, Babyzone or BabyCenter (which, for the record, I like a lot and occasionally write for as well). It's more "what's it really like?" than "It's harder than hell but I'm going to write in a way that makes it seem easier than Tiddlywinks."

I often write about how to do things with twins/multiples; I think that kind of advice is important and empowering. At the same time, motherhood isn't always the pinstripes and pinafores and bubbles blowing in the wind we envision when we first see the little blip on ultrasound. So I'm excited to be able to publicly explore the "other side" of it all.

What do you think? If you think it rocks, post a comment under the entry on MomLogic. Pretend you don't know me (even if you really don't know me). If you hate it, there's no need to post a comment. Really, there isn't.

Little Miss Fantastic's Room

2008-06-22T12:40:00.000-07:00

Thoughts...and Not-So-Much Thoughts...

2008-06-18T13:19:00.000-07:00

I love funny people. I found this fantastic piece the other day by a woman in the midst of an Ethiopian adoption and oh-so-honest about some of the feelings she's had. For the record, the fact that she used the word "asshole" so brilliantly really endeared her to me.

Here is the entry

Some of what she said resonated so true with me. I've often wondered, "Instead of bringing a child out of her culture, why don't we do more FOR her culture so that she can stay there?" I haven't yet completely reconciled this.

Interestingly, it's been 2 weeks since we accepted our referral and two things have happened that have stopped me in my tracks.

First, I had my first experience with someone asking if I had any kids "of my own." I mentioned to a woman who worked in The Children's Place that I was going to Africa because I know they keep 99-cent items in the back and I wanted some of them! Long story short, I explained that we were adopting a baby girl, and the woman asked, "Oh - do you have any of your own?"

Now, having twins, I'm used to all the crazy questions, including "Are your twins the kinds that have different fathers?" because they look so different. Lovely. And I know what this woman meant, and that she meant NO harm by it. She just didn't know how to properly phrase her question. But as I jumped to answer, "Yes," I shopped short and said, "I have four biologically." Do I think she heard what I was really saying? No. But that's okay. As it is with twins and strangers' questions and comments, I'm sure it's only just the beginning.

Second, my sweet friend Julie Beeler asked me recently, "So, are you, like, looking at her picture all day long?" and then I read of a family wondering if their baby was cold or teething or playing or sleeping or whatnot. I sat there and I realized, "I am an asshole of a mother." (There, did I use it as brilliantly?)

Because, no, I don't stare at her picture all day long and I haven't even thought about whether or not she's cold, teething, etc."

First of all, I know she's wanting for nothing. The special mothers at the orphanage are beyond amazing. I don't wonder about whether she's teething because she's 8 weeks old and last time I checked, 8-week-olds aren't yet even thinking about thinking about teething.

I don't wonder what she's doing because it doesn't do any good to do that. I don't stare at her picture all day because it makes me anxious about when we can go get her.

I also am a bit busy with four kids and a million business things and that is such a blessing right now because it's helping the time sort of go by more quickly.

But I think I'm not an asshole of a mother because I know that she is always in my heart. In my heart, I have 5 children. I work on her room a little more every day. I find fantastic stuff online and in the stores (much to David's dismay) to buy her. I plan for what we'll do when she gets here instead of worrying what she's doing without me/us. I look to the future.

And when her picture "accidentally" pops up on my computer screen (because I'm an idiot and I hit the wrong buttons all the time) I fall in love all over again.

I know she's okay where she is. And I know she'll come home. And I know that the long-term answer to the issues in Ethiopia is something I hope to forever be apart of.

So there, I've answered my own questions, pulled my feet out of the mud, and trudged on.

For Michael and Heather, Part Deux

2008-06-13T13:30:00.000-07:00

As promised, it's Michael's turn. Where does one begin? Here is an introductory list of all things fabulous about Uncle Michael.

1. Michael does this thing where, when he talks to you, he says your name all the time. Like, he won't just say, "You know, the thing is...," he'll say, "You know, Liz, the thing is..." I realized one day that NOBODY (in my world) does this and it's so great. It makes you feel like he's not just talking, but actually talking TO YOU consciously. I talk "unconsciously" all the time. I never stop talking. So this made me so aware of how I talk to other people and I try to use their name as often as I can in conversation.

2. He genuinely wants to know other people's names. In the grocery store, for instance. He doesn't check out and say, "Thank you" to the cashier. He says, "Thank you MIKE." So now I try to do this more, too. Because the cashier is a person, and "a person's a person, no matter how small" (said Horton). And no, I'm not insinuating that cashiers are small, so please don't send me a nasty comment about that.

3. He came over one Sunday and said, "Heather and I want to take the kids on a bike ride and up to get ice cream." I seriously almost felt his head to see if he was really sick. They took the kids, and David and I sat in separate rooms either working or watching football. Very romantic. Michael and Heather even did this activity AGAIN after the first time! I'd already selected them as godparents at this point, but this little gesture definitely sealed the deal as to their worthiness (and craziness).

4. I've never met a man so in love with his wife. It's really quite gross. He rarely calls her "Heather," in fact. He has all kinds of pet names for her, one of which is Tooter which I laugh at every time because, as those of you with boys know, "Tooter" is not necessarily a kind reference. When we had known each other for a bit, I asked how long they'd been married, sure that he'd say, like, two weeks. When he said almost 11 years I almost passed out. They're the ultimate.

5. Michael also has fantastic sayings such as, "I'm just saying" and "bad news bears" and my new all-time favorite (because I can't stop saying it), "off the hook." So, if I constantly tell any of you that something is "off the hook" and it gets you crazy, blame Michael.

6. He's extraordinarily diplomatic.

7. He's also a bit crazy, which helps balance the diplomacy. Like, he recently mentioned something about maybe wanting a second property in Panama. Panama!

8. He's not embarrassed to shout downstairs (okay, so he didn't know I was there), "Honey, I'm in the tub!" (For clarity, he was just informing her, not inviting her.)

9. He won't stop singing that song, "I'm going to write you a love song.." by Sara Bareilles which means no one around here can stop singing it either. I'm actually a bit annoyed with him over this one. It's in YOUR head now, too, isn't it? It won't leave anytime soon, either. Sorry.

10. He's not afraid to go on vacation with our family. It takes a big person, a saint as I previously mentioned, to be this brave. Now, they've only done it once, but we're keeping our fingers crossed for a repeat performance.

In short, the two of them together are sickeningly fabulous. And as it was with Heather's list, this is an unexhaustive one. Is unexhaustive a word? If it isn't, it is now. Who's this Webster guy anyway?

For Michael and Heather

2008-06-12T16:25:00.001-07:00

It is now time to write a post dedicated to the two greatest people on earth - Michael and Heather (now Aunt Heather and Uncle Michael to Little Miss Fantastic -- and likely the rest of our clan as well).

I simply cannot say enough fantastic things about these two. But I'll try. And this post will focus on Heather --- or Heather Together, as I call her.

Heather and I have only known each other for about 10 months. But I swear, it's like I've known her for 20 years. Not even kidding. She's unbelievable. She and Michael can NEVER move (they live right across the street) or we're outta here. And that won't make me happy cuz I love it here.

Here is an incomplete list of fabulous things about Heather Together:

1. She's so unbelievably together. She's a total rule-follower at heart, so of course, I completely get that.

2. She's VERY smart.

3. She knows all there is to know about the political realm and the people behind it which is fantastic because I know zero about this area and she doesn't laugh at me when I ask her what GOP stands for or, well, I won't put anymore examples here because if I did you might conclude that I really am an idiot.

4. She knows all kinds of "weird" things. Like, she'll mention some random and interesting tidbit about something that happened in the 1800s or something --- something pretty much no one else on earth knows.

5. She's an avid vintage "stuff" collector. Her entire house is vintage. She probably uses vintage toilet paper. It's ridiculous. I go into her house and I just want to buy things.

6. She's the bravest person I know.

7. She has never, and I mean NEVER said an unkind thing about anyone (and we've discussed some folks/situations that I thought definitely lent themselves to an unkind word or two, but I ended up uttering them for her and me alike).

8. She is AMAZING with our kids. She has the patience of a saint. And it takes a lot of patience.
It pretty much takes a saint. Maybe I should call her Mother Heather.

9. She is ridiculously modest.

10. She has crazy sayings (which I've adopted) like, "Easy peasy" and "Smartie" and "Simple Simon." Like, things aren't easy, they are "easy peasy" or "simple simon." And whenever anyone says anything even remotely intelligent, she'll say, "There you go smartie!" I particularly appreciate this because I feel less intelligent by the second.

11. She's gotten me to appreciate biographies, autobiographies, and all things historical. I pretty much can guarantee I'll never pick up another "fluff" book again.

12. She's gotten me to SO appreciate the color green!

13. She's totally and completely honest --- in a very respectful way.

14. She's never made me feel guilty about my Starbucks habit because hers is worse.

That list is completely just the beginning. But some things I simply must keep to myself! Plus, if I say too much more everyone will clamor for her. Kind of like a great babysitter. You have to keep some of the info close to your chest (or whatever the phrase is - something to do with cards, poker I think - I should ask Heather. She'll know.)

Tomorrow, I will dedicate my post too all things Michael. So stay tuned.

Awareness: Part 2

2008-06-06T20:45:00.000-07:00

Clearly, I'm on an awareness kick right now. This isn't terribly like me. But I think that for those close to us, this sort of awareness sheds light on some of the meaning behind our journey.

After seeing a documentary like this, I look at our four children and, for a split second, I imagine one of them being an orphan. Once you have children, most parents can tell you that every awful story you hear on the news or read in the papers involving children (which is why I don't watch the news or read the papers, rendering me slightly stupid at this point), almost subconsciously you imagine your own children in such a predicament. It's such a painful experience that I quickly move on to another thought. If I don't, I'll lose my mind. There should be NO orphans in this world. And while we can't solve the problem for all 143,000,000 of them, we can solve it for one and we feel blessed and honored to be granted the privelege and responsibility of doing so.

I honestly do not believe that adoption is the long-term solution to these issues. It is SURELY the short-term solution (or, at least, one of them). The long-term solution is to ensure that everyone everywhere is self-sufficient. That everyone is given the tools and the knowledge to be self-sufficient in their environment. Surely, that is everyone's God-given right. And surely, what those tools in place, this number (143,000,000) can be reduced.

We Have a Baby, Baby!

2008-06-05T17:04:00.000-07:00

Well, folks, after 21 weeks (and change) on the waitlist, we've officially accepted the referral of a BEAUTIFUL 6-week-old baby girl. We received the referral yesterday, but because she has a minor medical condition, we wanted to take some time to consult with different doctors to ensure that we were prepared to accommodate any needs she might have related to her condition.

I cannot tell you how weird this is. David just called and he said, "Wow. It happened so fast!" I said, "Excuse me? What land have YOU been living in?" He meant that one minute we were still waiting and the next we had this beautiful baby to plan for.

So, now we wait for travel. But honestly, even though I'm dying to get to her, 5 months on the Guatemala list and 21 weeks on the Ethiopia list? I think I can handle the next little bit (I hope).

More soon!

Awareness

2008-06-03T20:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not the type of person who waves my "this is my cause" flag super high. I do what I do, support what I support, and that's that. But this story is really too important not to share.

I remember when I first learned about the people of Ethiopia, the children, who were starving. I don't remember exactly how old I was. But I remember the constant images of children with bloated bellies from malnutrition. The flies everywhere. The dumps.

Then, at some point, those images ceased to fill the television screens and the newspapers. And, here in our society where we do almost everything in excess, most of us (including myself) forgot. We forgot that somewhere, on the other side of the world, people were starving to death because, in a country so dependent on agriculture, there was no available food source. We forgot that people were living an existence that we could not fathom in our wildest nightmares.

I read a story like this (which was on CNN a few weeks ago) and I realize that this poor mother has no place to go to find help for her child. There is no food whatsoever. Her 3-year-old daughter weighs little more than my fourth child did at birth. It's simply inexcusable.

I don't know what the solution is. But what I do know is that "out of sight out of mind" is not okay. We need to see these images. We need to read these stories. We need to be reminded of this travesty. And we need to ask ourselves how we can help these people. There is power in numbers. And the numbers of people living this type of existence in our daughter's birth country --- living this type of existence ANYWHERE --- is not okay.

SHANTO, Ethiopia (AP) -- This year's poor rains have nearly killed Bizunesh.

Bizunesh is 3 and weighs less than 10 pounds. "There is nothing ... I beg for milk," her mother says.

The rangy 3-year-old weighs less than 10 pounds, or 4 kilograms. Her long limbs, weak and folded like a praying mantis, cannot carry even her slight weight. She cannot speak. She doesn't want to eat. Health officials say she is permanently stunted.

Bizunesh -- whose name, sadly, means "plentiful" -- is one of untold numbers of children hit by this year's double blow of a countrywide drought and skyrocketing global food prices that has brought famine, once again, to Ethiopia.

"She should be bigger than this," said her mother Zewdunesh Feltam, rocking the listless child. "Before there was maize, different kinds of food. But now there is nothing ... I beg for milk from my neighbors."

The U.N. children's agency said in a statement Tuesday an estimated 126,000 Ethiopian children urgently need food and medical care because of severe malnutrition -- and called the crisis "the worst since the major humanitarian crisis of 2003."

The U.N. World Food Program estimates that 2.7 million Ethiopians will need emergency food aid because of late rains -- nearly double the number who needed help last year. An additional 5 million of Ethiopia's 80 million people receive aid each year because they never have enough food, whether harvests are good or not.

In Shanto, the crisis is vivid. A feeding center run by the Irish charity GOAL has admitted 73 starving children in the past month.

Some, like Bizunesh, are frail and skeletal. Others, like 4-year-old Eyob Tadesse, have grossly swollen limbs in a sign of extreme malnutrition.

Eyob, whose mother said he used to be a lively, talkative child, sat in a stupor, unable to speak, not moving even to brush away the flies that swarmed all over his face. The sunny room humid with a recent, too late, rain shower was made gloomy by an eerie silence despite being full of sick children. Chronic malnutrition can affect children for life, stunting their growth, brain development and immune systems, which leaves them vulnerable to a host of illnesses.

Many mothers said their families were trying to survive on a gluey, chewy bread made of the root of the "false banana" plant -- one of many wild or so-called famine foods that Ethiopians depend on in times of trouble.

It's not known how many children have died or are starving now. Local and international aid and health workers say between 10 and nearly 20 percent of Ethiopia's children are malnourished -- 15 percent is considered a critical situation. In 2006, Ethiopia had 13.4 million children under the age of five, according to UNICEF.

In Shanto, a southwestern agricultural area that grows sweet potatoes, recent rains arrived too late to save the harvest.

Samuel Akale, a nutritionist with the government's disaster prevention agency, said the hunger will get worse. "The number of severely malnourished will increase, and then they'll die."

WFP officials say the drought has affected six of Ethiopia's nine regions, stretching from Tigray in the north to the vast and dry Somali region in the south, though not every part of every region is affected.

Spokesman Greg Beals said the U.N. Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs is preparing an appeal for additional tens of millions of dollars.

"This is a real crisis that needs to be addressed," he said.

Ethiopia is a country with a history of hunger. It escalated to notoriety in 1984 when a famine compounded by communist policies killed some 1 million people. Pictures of stick-thin children like Bizunesh were broadcast onto television sets around the world.

This year's crisis is mild in comparison. But drought and chronic hunger persist in Ethiopia, a Horn of Africa nation known for its coffee, a major export. In 2003, droughts led 13.2 million people to seek emergency food aid. Drought in 2000 left more than 10 million needing emergency food.

Drought is especially disastrous in Ethiopia because more than 80 percent of people live off the land, and agriculture drives the economy, accounting for half of all domestic production and 85 percent of exports. But many also go hungry because of government policies. Ethiopia's government buys all crops from farmers at fixed low prices. And the government owns all the land, so it cannot be used as collateral for loans.

Aid agencies say emergency intervention is not enough and are appealing for more money to support regular feeding programs.

"What we're doing at the moment is waiting until children get severely malnourished, taking them into the feeding program, getting them back to a level of moderate malnutrition and then watching them cycle back," said Hatty Newhouse, a nutrition adviser from GOAL.

There are fears that the next harvest also will fail.

"We are crying with the mothers and the children," said Akale, the nutritionist.

E-mail to a friend

NUMERO UNO!

2008-06-02T15:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, we're FINALLY number one! I can hardly stand the suspense. Keep checking on us, folks, it could be any day now!

And, incidentally, if anyone has a clue how to save an image off a site when you're on a mac, please let me know. I'm ready to do away with the whole apple concept forever.

:) (I'd put a real happy face, but I don't know how to download it off the stock exchange website onto my mac, remember?)

Just another day...

2008-05-17T08:40:00.000-07:00

Oh, it's been all kinds of fun in this house over the past 15 hours!

Grace takes Tae Kwon Do twice a week at Lifetime Fitness. Loves it. Never thought she'd attach to it like she has, but she's very into it. She's been known to do her routine in Lowe's.

Last night David and I took her about 40 minutes north to her Tae Kwon Do teacher's studio or dojo or whatever it's called to test for her yellow belt. Very exciting. We thought the testing would take, oh, 15 minutes.

We got up there and loved every second of watching her do her thing (with 40 other folks ranging in age from 4 to 44) but soon realized that 15 minutes wasn't to be. The lady next to us said this would take 2-3 hours. Hmmmm.

David's mom was at home with Jack, Henry, and George. David had left his phones in his truck thinking that all would be fine, plus he didn't want his phone to ring in the dojo/studio/place.

We had told Sharon we'd be home around 8:00, so at 7:40 I told David he should go call her to tell her that 8:00 wasn't to be.

He went outside to call her, and I glanced over and saw him motioning for me to come outside. I thought, "Oh great. Who threw up?"

No one threw up, but Henry had fallen off of his bike, and Sharon was afraid he needed stitches. She had called, but of course we hadn't answered.

Now, I TOTALLY trust Sharon. I also know that face wounds bleed...a lot. So I thought it was possible that it was bleeding enough that it LOOKED like it needed stitches but, in fact, maybe didn't. So, for a second opinion, I called Fabulous Heather across the street and asked her to go take a look.

I called the house a few minutes later to receive Heather's assessment.

"Uh...oh...um...yeah," says Heather, trying to be completely non-excited right in front of Henry. "I think we need an ER. Like, now."

Meanwhile, board breaking was ensuing in the dojo/studio/place. I said to David, "Oh, well Grace has never done this. I don't think the white belts do this."

"Yes, they do," he answered.

I'm sorry. What? She's going to break a board with some part of her body having never practiced that before? Well, at least we have a scheduled trip to the ER in place, so if anything goes awry she can just tag along.

She indeed broke the board --- with her foot --- and was not injured. Hallelujah. Then some other kid kicked the board with the top of his foot incorrectly and I was sure he DID break his toes. I told his mom that I had an extra seat in Heather's ambulance if he needed it.

The coordination began. Now, my husband is fantastic, but coordination, especially in the midst of an emergency, isn't always his strong suit. He suggested that I take his truck to the ER and he would take Grace to the pizza joint next door and I could then pick them up after the ER visit.

Uh, ER visits don't last 20 minutes.

He then suggested that his mom put the three boys in the car and drive them all the way to the dojo/studio/place and then she and Jack and George would stay at the dojo/studio/place while I took Henry to the ER.

Um, no.

I said, "David, this is what I do. I'll handle it." But I always appreciate his effort. Love you, muffin!

Heather put Henry in her car and brought him up to the dojo/studio/place and took both of us to the ER while David stayed with Grace and then got her dinner at 9:30 (since we had no idea this would take this long at the dojo/studio/place and she hadn't had dinner) and took her home.

The guy next to David was like, "How are you going to handle THIS?" I said, "Sir, please, this is nothing."

I briefly spoke to Henry on the phone and said, "Heather is going to bring you up here." He said, with zero emotion, "Yeah. I fell off my bike. I think I need to go to the hospital for stitches."

Then Jack wanted to chat. He asked if he could go with us. I said No. He fell into a crying heap. I hung up.

30 minutes later Heather arrived and off to the ER we went.

We got to the hospital where I first was able to see the wound and I, too, had to feign calm in the midst of panic. It was not good. Henry climbed out of the car and as we were walking in he says, "Mom, that says 'Emergency'."

"Yes, Henry, it does."

"Why doesn't it say 'Room'?"

Who knows.

We basically got right in. The doc came in and I said, "This can't be glued, can it?"

"Uh, no."

I have never seen anything like this. It literally looked like he had two mouths. He hit it right on the sweet spot where your chin meets your neck and the whole thing just split open to within about 1 mm of the bone.

They put a numbing medicine on it, and Henry slept through all NINE stitches. Yes, nine stitches. Heather's standing there a bit teary-eyed saying, "Oh, this sweet boy. I think he's my favorite now," and then almost threw up because I had stupidly said something about MRSA and she was suddenly aware that she'd touched a chair in the waiting room and then put gum into her mouth without sanitizing her hands and she could feel the staph infection pulsing through her veins (plus, the stitching process wasn't the prettiest sight in the world and she did have a front-row seat, seeing how she was being the maternal one), while I stood there simply studying how stitches are really done. Me, the ever un-emotional parent.

The triage nurse came in to see how Henry was doing. She said, "I didn't want to overreact, but that was a very bad cut."

We arrived home at 12:30 this morning. David got up at 3:30 to go to work.

I can only imagine what today will bring. One thing I KNOW it will bring is some coffee and something I should not eat...like a whole cake.

Hope you have a less eventful weekend (though the acquisition of the yellow belt is one piece of very exciting news around here!). And, for the record, she nearly kicked the crap out of the two boys she had to spar with. You go girl!

My sweet Henry this morning. Stoic as always.

There are nine. You can count 'em to be sure!

Gracey Kate's debut

2008-05-15T16:08:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, Grace came home from school and announced that there was a talent show happening and she wanted to be in it.

Fine.

She then mentioned that she'd need this, that, and the other thing for the audition.

Audition? What audition? You mean that 3rd graders have to audition for a talent show? Like, some kids (who are as young as 5, seeing that kindergarten was included as well) might not get in? Icky. Didn't like that. I mean, these are the sorts of moments when you realize that there are experiences to be had as a parent for which you can positively never be prepared.

I quickly realized, however, that perhaps this provided a good opportunity for her to try out for something, have to practice, believe in herself, and possibly deal with being told, "No."

Although, I was perfectly willing to put a smile on my face and then slap the person who told her No.

So, she selected a song and practiced and practiced (and practiced). In the bathtub, in the shower, in bed at midnight. I downloaded the karaoke version of her song and, even after insisting that she couldn't sing "without the real singers," she figured out how to do it.

So, today was the day. She sat stoically (those of you who know her will totally be able to see this) in her spot as #17 for about an hour before it was her turn. No emotion on her face. I thought I was going to throw up.

At one point, when I noticed that some kids were holding the mic (and knowing she had planned for it to remain on its stand so that she could do the arm movements she'd choreographed), I sneaked over and asked her if she planned to hold the mic or not.

"I don't know, Mom." Didn't even look at me.

I immediately returned to my seat.

When it was her turn, she got up there and did her thing like she's been doing it all her life. In front of the entire K-5 classes AND all of their parents! She indeed held the mic and modified her arm movements accordingly. We were very proud of her! We told her what a great job she did when she was finished and she said, "I was really scared. Really scared. Terrified. Really scared." We said, "Yes, but you did it anyway. That's so great!"

"Yeah, really scared."

Now she's talking about hosting a penguin or something for the summer. I don't care if there are auditions for this. We're not doing it.

Newsflash: We are referral-less

2008-05-14T14:32:00.000-07:00

I have no idea what's happened, but I'm laughing (otherwise I'd cry) because I've gotten a flood of emails in the last twenty minutes all from sweet, lovely people who, for some reason, think we've gotten our referral!

We have not. After 18+ weeks on the Ethiopian wait list (and that's after 5+ months on the Guatemalan wait list), we are still referral-less, but hopeful!

I am, however, hoping that all these folks thinking we did is either creating the energy that will cause us to get "the call," or is some sort of psychic vision on all of their parts, also indicating the the referral is coming...like...in 3 minutes or less.

We only know that the folks at #1 on boys (Paschalls) and the family at #3 on girls have received their referrals. Given that we were #4, the fact that those at #3 got their referral might create suspicion that we're now #1. HOWEVER, the family who was at #3 was open to a girl aged 0-24 months and they received a referral for a toddler. So, if the folks at #1 and #2 are waiting for a girl aged 0-12 months, and I think they are, and have not received their referrals, then we are still at #3. So, we're either #3, #2 or #1. But we are not referred. That much I know!

Now, does anyone have a CLUE what family is at #2 or #1 or know anything about their status? I've heard of a single break in the chain where a family remains anonymous, but two? I've not heard of that. I'm thinking that the families who are #1 and #2 are celebrities. A bit of sarcasm there, but that's how invisible they've been!

So, does anyone have ANY idea who is #1 or #2 (or where I actually fall on the referral list)? Trust me, when we DO get our referral, the entire world will hear about it!

Experimenting with some video

2008-05-02T14:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, so amidst my lack of anything to do (tee hee), I dove into one of my latest professional projects. I'm releasing a new website soon, and I need to test how the video portions are going to work. So, here's a little montage for your viewing pleasure and my testing un-pleasure. What happened to my little munchkins????

For Karen

2008-04-26T16:39:00.000-07:00

What do you think of my new shirt for the baby that seems, at this point, to be a complete figment of my imagination? I'm trying to convince Julie to get these made, but until she acquiesces, this is my solution. I got it at SimplyColors.com.

There is no real purpose for this post, except that Karen "demanded" it, and when Karen demands, I listen!

Since I have nothing new, I've changed my blog template. What do you think? The brown was just too...brown. I needed something happy. So I chose green. Green always makes me happy.

We have nothing to report on the adoption front, but I have very high hopes for this next week (I don't know why, but I do. Perhaps because anything less is too depressing). There have been no referrals in ONE MONTH! Crazy. However, I believe that if our agency felt there was a serious issue, they would tell us. They are not changing their referral time drastically, and considering that there are now 31 people on the list for a girl, they must know something that we don't because if things stayed the way they are now, the poor folks at #20 and beyond would be old enough to be grandparents by the time they received a referral!

I suspect that some young babies have come to HH for whom paperwork is not yet complete and, therefore, referrals cannot be made. This seems a positive theory, so I'm sticking to it.

We're still busy, though. The boys had their first baseball game today which was hysterical. I almost cannot attend because they move at the speed of tar and it gets me crazy. I had the same issue when Jack was taking tennis lessons. I was more exhausted from twitching on the sidelines trying to will him to move than he was from actually moving.

Today, Henry got a ball in the outfield and threw it to Jack, who was on first base, and Jack tagged the kid out. The coach said, "Good job! Brother to brother!" and Henry replied, with no enthusiasm at all, "Yeah. We're twins." As our favorite friends Michael and Heather say, "He was as serious as a heart attack." That's Henry.

Off to finish painting our new entertainment center. I'm running out of projects. That's not good. So I need a referral so I can go SHOPPING! So, if you have a praying bone in your body, use it (please). I need visualization of my receiving the referral. On Monday. Please.