Masquerading as a normal person day after day is exhausting

"Why is there so much nature here?" asked Bea

"We should go on a hike this weekend before it starts raining, Noah's-ark-style, for the next two weeks," I said to John. 

We knew Bea would be up for it; she's always up for anything, especially if snacks can be involved and she gets mom and dad time. We were a little less sure about how Liv would feel. "There will be a stop at Rita's Italian Ice at the end," we told her. And just like that, she was in, too. (Truly, nothing like bribing your children with food...)

The hike started off well, though Liv did eat all the salami I packed and then stuffed the empty plastic bag into Bea's pocket for her to carry before we even got past the pond and neither of the girls remembered to bring their water bottles from the car. At least everyone was in a good mood.

   

(click any picture to embiggen)

Liv decided she wanted to be the leader while Bea and I lollygagged behind. She fearlessly led us down the trail and then completely off the trail and on course for some random stranger's house, rather than the farmhouse we needed to return to.

 She also hiked as fast as she could because dammit, she was determined to get that Rita's. What she failed to consider was that no matter how fast SHE went, she was only as fast as the slowest member (Bea). She spent a lot of time waiting in various poses of (perhaps fake?) exasperation for us to catch up to her. She also spent a lot of time yelping about the mud on the path. Which, to be fair, the mud was a little gross. I half expected something swamp-monsterish to reach out and grab my ankle. But hey, it's nature. Mud lives there, so, whatever.

(Lest it sound like she had a bad attitude, she did not - she was remarkably good natured about the whole thing and mock-bickered with John over who chose the path with the most mud. It was amusing to listen to.)

She and Bea were funny to listen to, too, and graciously posed for pictures when I asked. They even acted as if they liked each other. Sometimes. 

Bea wanted to know why Olivia was "so... so... I don't know what. So something." We spent a good long while supplying adjectives. "Goofy?" "Worried about getting mud on her shoes?" "Anxious to get ice cream?" "Loud?" Finally Bea said, "No! Why is Olivia so FAST?" I want to be the leader, too!" Alas, Bea was just too slow - I suspect it was the constant consumption of snacks that kept her from leading the pack. She ate her way through all the cheese sticks and crackers I brought. I was worried we were going to have to move on to the Wisp toothbrushes I had tucked away in a pocket of my backpack.

As I handed her the last snack I had, I told her it was the final one. "Eat it wisely," I said, "I don't have anymore." "Oooh, so this is the last one, and we don't have any more if Olivia gets us lost again and we have to stay here in the woods for like the next few days or the next year?" "ExACTly," John and I said.

Other snippets of conversation:

Liv: "Want to hear the song we're doing for part of our spring performance?"

John: "No. I want to just hear nature. I don't want to hear music on your phone."

Liv: "Well, I am part of nature."

John: "A loud part."

Liv: "Well, but you still have to listen to me. So, we're doing our dance to this song by X Ambassadors and when our instructor lined us up in height order, I wasn't the shortest one! There was one person who was shorter than me. But, she might have been like 12 or something. But I wasn't the shortest one! Did I tell you that my new pointe shoes are almost dead already? I'm glad because I don't like these ones as much as the other ones. When mom took me to The Tight Spot I don't think they gave me the right pair so I'm just waiting for these ones to be done so I can go back to the ones I really like. The box on these is really long for people with long toes and I don't have long toes so they aren't as comfortable. [...]"

------------------------

Liv: "Ow, Bea, you just let that branch snap back on me."

Bea: [halfheartedly] "Sorry"

Liv" "A little sincerity would be nice."

-----------------------------------

Bea: "Oliva, do you want the last cracker before I eat it?" 

Liv: [turns around just as Bea starts to put last cracker in her mouth] "Uh... "

Me: "BEA! Geez. Olivia, that actually was nice of her to offer, so could you say thanks, even though she started biting it?"

Liv: [halfheartedly] "Thanks."

Me: "A little sincerity would be nice."

We also had a little cartwheel showdown on the road that connected two of the trails. Liv has some, um, difficulty with cartwheels. Always has, despite the gymnastics lessons when she was younger and all the dance she does. I was trying to explain to her what one should look like and she just wasn't getting it. You know what they say about a picture, right? Yeah. I stripped off my fleece, my backpack, and my camera, handed them to John, said a "please don't let me crack my head open on the cement" prayer, and did my first (and hopefully last) cartwheel in mumblemumble years to show Olivia what it was supposed to look like. I'm not sure I actually accomplished that, but I DID accomplish not cracking my head open. I consider that a win.

All in all, it was a pretty awesome hike with my family. We slogged through mud, saw purple bushes, narrowly avoided deer poop, almost got lost, climbed over a jillion mossy trees, and had some excellent conversations. No one complained (much, or seriously), no one got hurt, and we ended up with ice cream as a treat. Not a bad way to spend a late Saturday afternoon, if you ask me.

 

Zzzziiiiipppp

After a refreshing four hours of sleep on Thursday night, we were all up and ready for morning zip lining adventures. Bea claimed she was going to be scared, but I was pretty sure all four of us were going to love it. (Shocker: I was right.)

 The longest (and most fun) line was 1800 feet long and 150 feet off the ground, and required passing through the Pay Attention Pines (as in, "you are about to land your ass on the upcoming platform, so pay attention"). Some of the lines were much shorter and much faster; also fun, but I didn't have nearly as much time to look around and go "holy mother of bacon, I am 150 feet off the ground on a wire and this is SO COOL as long as I don't die."

Bea thought the whole thing was awesome and smiled like a crazy woman the entire time. She got to ride with our guide all day since she didn't weigh enough to propel herself across each line. I, on the other hand, had no problem there...

Dude. It was SO much fun. I now want to zip line everywhere. Considering that I live on top of a big hill and that most of the places we go are at the bottom of the hill, this might work out... (Until I had to get back home, anyway, and then I guess I'll just have to call Lyft or Uber, which is probably equally as fun because hello? Cars with pink mustaches on them?)  

Revenge, little sister style

Last summer, Olivia tricked Bea into sticking her face into a fountain.

Bea might not remember what she did at school today, or whether she put on unnerwears, but she hasn't forgotten that incident. It appears she's just been biding her time, waiting for the perfect revenge opportunity to stroll along.

 

This might be the last time Olivia asks her little sister to come play in a fountain. 

Seagoggles, seashovels, and lots of sand

The beach is one of my happy places. As long as Olivia hasn't watched Shark Week, it's one of her happy places, too. I wasn't sure about Bea, but I suspected she'd love it because, really, the opportunity to get wet and to dig and to run? How could she NOT love that?

As usual, I was right. (Ahem.)

She braved the waves a few times, but mostly preferred stomping in the foamy, swirling edges. She and the surf had a love/hate relationship that week. She loved it as long as it was lapping gently at her feet or knees, but the occasional in-your-face wave was just plain insulting.

  

Liv also had a love/hate relationship with the water for two reasons:

(1) As luck would have it, it was Shark Week and Liv happened to turn on the TV one morning before the rest of us were downstairs. PSA: Don't let your kids watch Shark Week while at the beach. 

(2) She decided to try bodyboarding. When she hit the wave just right, it was awesome. When she didn't... well, let's say that she learned why rash guards and board shorts exist. She also had a whole lot of unwanted neti-pot-like sinus washes. ;-) 

The week was mostly about digging giant holes in the sand (said Ashley, "That's not a hole, that's a hot tub"), handing out endless squeezy yogurt and applesauce, and watching the kids run like maniacs along the water's edge. Bea? She's FAST. So fast that she and Jack would scare the bejeebers out of me because they were so far ahead of the rest of us. I had to shove aside my hatred of running and sprint after them. 

We spent the mornings and evenings looking for "seashovels" (sea shells) and I taught the kids the fine art of feeding in-flight seagoggles (sea gulls) popcorn and Cheez-Its. Bea learned how to use the outdoor hose to de-sand herself and I suspect she is lamenting the return to regular, indoor bathing now that we are home. 

Itchy Frog (and the Street People) In the Woods

Although no one can remember how it started (or, uh, wants to claim responsibility for its origins), P-Street camping is an annual event. We pack up our kids, our cars, our coffee, and our potentially bad choices (swinging from the cabin roof, anyone?) and head to Laurel Hill State Park. 

This year marked Bea's and Itchy Frog's first camping adventure. It did not begin auspiciously. Thursday evening:

"Bea, we're going camping tomorrow! We're going to sleep in our sleeping bag in a cabin."

"Camping?! Where?"

"In the woods."

"In the WOODS?? Ewwwwww. I no like the woods."

Luckily, she'd forgotten about her distate for the woods by the time we drove into the park. "I'm inna forest, mama! Itchy Frog inna forest! I like the forest!"

We spent Friday night watching the kids run around like maniacs, practicing our Karate Kid balancing skills on the slackline, and trying to figure out the rules to some crazy card game. I lost, spectacularly. Luckily, an epic meltdown from Bea saved me from further humiliation. "I no wanna go pee inna woods! I no wanna go bed inna woods! I wanna go home!"

After a rough night and a "people, what the hell am I doing in the middle of the woods" wakeup the next morning, we set off to collect Liv from her (nearby) sleepaway camp. Good morning, sunshine...

Bea and Itchy Frog had some more good firsts on Saturday. 

(1) First trip to the beach (the park has a lake with a little beach area). Based on Saturday's experience, our family beach trip this month is going to be the best thing to ever happen to Bea. She dug and swam and dug and swam and really did not want to leave. Itchy Frog just relaxed in the chair and kept himself hydrated.

(2) First time roasting marshmallows on a stick. Or, in Bea parlance, snowman. No clue where she got that, but she insisted on "making a snowman" then refused to eat it. No worries, though - Liv and the other big kids selflessly powered through all the roasted snowmen.

Mother Nature sent an awesome deluge our way right as we were all cooking dinner outside. For the record, 14 kids and 11 adults in one little camping cabin is, um, cozy. Also for the record, Bea lost The Quiet Game in the first few seconds. Shocking, I know.

They got a little goofy after that. Bottoms up...

There was a lot of bacon on Sunday morning (and possibly a grease fire or two), a captured frog, and some spontaneous ice cream for second-breakfast on the way home. 

 

Olivia's favorite part was the slackline. Bea's favorite part was sleeping in the cabin. And, according to Bea, Itchy Frog's favorite part was simply sleeping.

Personally, I think he looks like he's enjoying the beach. 

 

 

Naps and waterfalls and curds, oh my!

This year has been particularly grueling. Work has been stressful. Teaching two classes instead of one, on top of that full-time job? Also stressful. And no matter how much I love my family, this transition kicked my butt. I know it's shocking, but Bea has a completely different personality than Olivia, and requires a completely different level of patience and parenting.

So, even when I take an hour here and there to read a book or go to the gym, I never really relax during that time. I'm always thinking about what needs to be done. Emails. Grading. Lecture prep. Vacuuming up the rhinoceros-sized birddust bunnies under Folly's cage. Dealing with the load of laundry that I meant to switch from the washer to the dryer four days ago and now have to wash again because OMG does it smell.

On one particularly horrendous day, I had an idea. "Self," I said, "you need a long weekend at a spa."

Two hours later, I had Memorial Day weekend booked at Kohler Waters Spa and I was daydreaming about not talking to anyone for an entire day. 

"You're going to a spa for four days? BY YOURSELF?" <-- The incredulous (and sometimes horrified) response I got from some. 

HELL YES. 

And people, it was the best thing I've done for myself in a long, long time. I have never (NEVER) felt that relaxed. My heart stopped doing its weird palpitating. My shoulders parted company from my ears. My brain only processed thoughts like, "I should take a nap now" and "I think I want some more cheese" and "oh, my toes are all pretty and sparkly."

First of all, the place itself was wonderful. I was greeted on Friday with a fluffy robe and a glass of champagne.  Everything I wanted or needed was either right there or just a simple request away. The people were kind and down to earth. The food... OMG, the food. Particularly the cheese and the fruit and the creme brulée french toast and the little cookies at turndown every night. 

The spa was lovely, and since it was in the same building as my room, I never had to get dressed. I seriously spent 80% of my time in my robe and slippers. Breakfast in the little nook outside the spa? Robe and slippers. Cocktail hour in the little nook outside the spa? Robe and slippers, baby. In fact, on Saturday night I cancelled my dinner reservation because I was too relaxed to put on real clothes. I ate cocktail-hour cheese and veggies and fell asleep IN THE MIDDLE OF MY KING-SIZED BED at 8:30 pm. 

I scheduled four treatments: craniosacral therapy, the body balancer, a hot stone massage, and the foot/leg treatment with pedi. The first two were nirvana. I felt like I was floating during the craniosacral treatment and promptly took a nap next to the waterfall pool after it was over. The body balancer included exfoliation, a bath, a mud wrap, and a Vichy shower and was possibly the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced in a spa. (Marred only by the promised-but-didn't-happen scalp massage.) I actually fell asleep during the foot and leg treatment (Sarah: "You didn't have a jimmy leg, did you?" Me, to self: OMG, what if I kicked the pedicure lady in the head?!).

There's a cute little village a few blocks from the spa with a cafe specializing in scrumptious chocolates and coffee, with outdoor tables next to a little lake. I had my pre-brunch coffee there on Sunday morning, and might have purchased a lot of chocolate to take home. 

 It was amazing, fabulous, peaceful, and exactly what I needed. I'm already plotting a return trip. 

5: Number of naps I took (this is miraculous -- I'm not a napper and can never relax enough to fall asleep)

1: Number of naps that involved snoring (as far as I know)

2: Number of times I doused the bathroom because I turned on the whirlpool jets before the water was high enough in the tub (some people learn from their mistakes; I am not one of those people)

14: Approximate number of pounds of cheese I ate

2: Number of friends who made me laugh til it hurt, made sure I had all the best custard and coffee and JesusMobile sightings Milwaukee offered, and schlepped out to brunch, spa, and dine with me on Sunday

 

 

Happy Bea-Day to us

It has been a year. Three hundred and sixty six days. (Thanks, leap year.)

 Sometimes I think, "I can't believe it's already been a year." Other times, I wonder how it's ONLY BEEN A YEAR. It feels like this kid has been part of our family forever. Try as I might, I can remember only the vaguest glimpses of life pre-Beatrix Nan Yu, much like I have trouble remembering life pre-Olivia. 

So much has happened since we first met fierce, beautiful, amazing Long Nan Yu in that government office, since she sobbed and peed on John and eventually discovered the joy of chucking batteries across the room for her new jie jie to fetch. 

When I stop and think about what we did... oh, man. We brought a 2.5-year-old kid to a completely unfamiliar place. We told her we were her mama, baba, and jie jie. We took her away from her foster mom and her ayis and from all the sights and sounds and smells she knew. She had to listen to me bust out my caveman Mandarin and probably thought, "WTH is that woman saying? Why does she want me to stop eating an aardvark? I just wanted some damn raisins." 

Things could have been SO BAD. And sometimes, frankly, they were. 

Despite any rumors to the contrary, adding a toddler to your family is not a piece of cake. I expected some difficulty, of course. What I did not expect, however, is for my 10-year-old daughter to be the major source of this difficulty. Between the OMG HORMONES angst and the upheaval, Olivia had a harder time adjusting than the rest of us. 

At times, I honestly wasn't sure who was the toddler. My lap had to become a no-sit zone because if one of them wanted to sit with me, the other did, too, and then there were all kinds of shennanigans (see: Bea licking Olivia's arm) to unseat each other. That picture over there? That was my life for months.

I'm happy to report that they now act like sisters. There are times when they are so sweet to each other, and then, well...  "Moooom, she's looking at me! She took my chair!" "Mama, Ohluhvee touch Itchy Frog! No touch!" The other night they were actually engaged in a fierce bout of tug-o-war over a stupid pink Terrible Towel. 

Parts of the attachment process have been hard, too. For months, if I dared to walk down the stairs and didn't wait to hold Bea's hand or carry her, she collapsed into a heap of snot and sobs for a good twenty minutes. It made ferrying the laundry up and down the stairs super fun, let me tell you. Even more fun that it normally is. 

I often think about how scary this transition must have been for her, and it breaks my heart. Every time she'd wake up sobbing in the night and was simply unconsolable, I cried, too. There were mornings where she wouldn't utter a word, wouldn't eat, wouldn't use the bathroom. It was like she just checked out; she withdrew into her shell to try to deal with all that change and confusion and grief. 

I selfishly love this incredible child, but I uprooted her in order to do so. I suspect I'll struggle with this for the rest of my days. 

But you know what? The good stuff completely, absolutely outweighs the difficulties and the pangs of guilt. I remember us saying to ourselves last year, "HOW did we get so lucky?" When I'm not refereeing a sibling squabble or putting out the 12th APB for Itchy Frog because ohmygod she will not go to sleep without him but she has no idea where she left him, I still feel that way.

Beatrix is so many kinds of awesome. She is a whirlwind, a chatterbox, a tomboy, a lover of pizza and yogurt and chock-it [chocolate]. She is brave and willfull (perhaps too much) and awfully smart. She recognizes all of her letters and numbers and knows exactly which buttons to push when she wants to annoy someone. Bea loves her some potty humor ("Mama, sing 'papa got Bea's toilet on his head!'") and is a tooting, burping machine. Honestly, it's unreal: She'll burp in the middle of a word and just keep on going like nothing happened. When she doesn't want to do something, you know it. "Bea, time for bed." "NO WAY."

Bea has no fear of heights, speed, or farm animals. 

She is curious and incredibly active. The one word people use to describe her? Busy. "My, she's... busy, isn't she?" And man, she is. I thought Olivia was active, but this child could probably pogo from here to Antarctica without stopping. Spring soccer season can't come soon enough. Parenting a preschooler at 40 is way harder than parenting one at 32. She exhausts me in ways I didn't know I could be exhausted.

                

 

Bea is also affectionate and snuggly. She told us "I love you" for the first time at Christmas and says it often now. She demands hugs and kisses, which I'm only too happy to give.  When she wakes up in the morning (which could be, y'know, 2:55 am), she gathers up her armful of animals and scurries into our room to jump into bed and cuddle. She makes sure Itchy Frog is well fed and that he always has his turn playing Leapster or reading books.

She is beautiful, strong, happy. She sings off key and at the top of her lungs. She tries to make everything into a game. She is silly, loud, and full of joy. I love her like crazy and feel like the luckiest person in the world to have both her and Olivia in my life. 

We got another daughter. Olivia got a sister. Poor Bea got way more crazy family than she ever bargained for. 

 

In which Pinchy's deep, dark secret is revealed

All this talk of Itchy Frog has reminded me of Pinchy, Liv's beloved stuffed lobster. Pinchy was a little more well-traveled than the frog. Alas, his wanderlust did him in; he met his untimely demise on the Eiffel Tower. (For the full story:  Pinchy did Paris, until Paris did in Pinchy).

Because Liv was so young and gullible, I was able to order a new Pinchy and convince her it was the original one. 

Surely by age 10 she knew that there was no way that stuffed lobster  "wrapped hisself up and he came home," right?  RIGHT?

Yeah. I don't know what she believed, but she had no clue until recently that I was responsible for the whole thing. Bea had unearthed Pinchy II and Liv started reminiscing about his trip to Paris. I tossed out some comment like, "You were so sad when you lost him - trying to find a replacement was really hard." 

Silence. Complete silence.

Then, this: "Wait... WHAT?"

More silence. Wheels turning. Innocence shattering.

"You mean that's not the same Pinchy that I lost on the Eiffel Tower?" 

Whoops. Sorry, kid. 

"You know, I always DID wonder how Pinchy got back here..."

 

Reentry

Number of hours on the flight from Hong Kong to Detroit: 14.5

Number of hours Beatrix Nan Yu slept on that flight: 4.5

Number of hours Beatrix Nan Yu caused general mayhem and madness: 10

Number of Play-Doh containers lost during takeoff: 3

Number of consecutive hours Olivia stayed awake (minus a quick snooze on the car home from the airport: 28 (proof that, given unlimited television and snacks, the child will never go to sleep on her own)

Number of times that Olivia and Alison pinched and poked each other to make sure they were finally together: approximately 27

Number of awesome things waiting for us at home: too many to count

  

We were met at the curb by the street people and walked up to find beautiful signs from all the street kids welcoming home Beatrix Nan Yu and Olivia. Inside was a pile of letters to the girls, dinner waiting on the counter (the first salad in three weeks! yay, roughage!), a fridge and freezer full of food (including Nan Yu's beloved dumplings and bananas), and not-dead plants. 

My favorite thing was the book that has a picture of each family on the street (along with a picture of their house) and drawings from each kid in the family. Beatrix Nan Yu can learn who the street people are and where they live (dude, even I get confused sometimes), and one day she'll look back on this and see how much she was loved even before she was home.

She was a trooper - the flight was a little difficult because, well, it's like herding cats to try to keep a very energetic toddler from disrupting a plane for 14 hours -- but overall I'm impressed by how well she did, and how quickly she made herself at home here. She marched right in, took our hands, and explored every single inch of the house. She opened and closed every single door and drawer...Eighteen times. She fell down the servant's stairs. She took a bath and tried to plug in the door with my Macbook charger and dumped out the entire contents of the toy basket. 

Olivia was also a trooper. A very sleep-deprived trooper, but a trooper nonetheless... That child stayed awake for almost 28 consecutive hours (minus a very quick nap and some weird car sleeping on the way home from the airport). I'd always wondered if, given unlimited television and snacks and no set bedtime, the child would ever sleep. I now have my answer. The flight attendants were all very impressed with her and complimented her (and us) on how well behaved she was. Yay, Olivia!

Beatrix woke up around 5:30 this morning and I couldn't get her to stop crying; perhaps overstimulated from yesterday's big adventure. John took her downstairs and they ate and played, then we all hoofed it up to the PARP. Poor Beatrix Nan Yu wasn't sure what to think about the cold, or her first adventure with mittens. "Uh, mom, WHERE ARE MY THUMBS?"

We discovered that her hair is all kinds of awesome on the slide -- static electricity FTW!

 

Firsts

Two nights ago, as we snuggled before bed, Beatrix Nan Yu grabbed my face in both hands and planted a big kiss right on my lips. Then she did it again, and again, and again. You all, SHE kissed ME. 

She had her first experience in the pool this week, too. She was all, what IS this giant thing of water and can I REALLY use it to splash you? When she discovered that was exactly what it was for, there was no looking back. Shame what that swim diaper did for her figure...

 

I feel asleep in the big bed while putting her and Olivia to sleep. For reference, she's just a smidge too short to get on the bed by herself, so you see this head, a pair of arms, and one foot trying to gain purchase and not quite making it. Well. I know now why the child still sleeps in a crib. At one point, I woke up to her whimpering "uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh" and her foot and arms trying to scrabble up the bed. She must have slid out and woken up. I hoisted her back in, she definitively flopped over, and was back asleep in two seconds.

Until the next time she slid out of bed.

And the third time. After the third time, I learned (finally) and put her in her crib.

The last first is not a good one, at least not for the carpet and not for all of us eating dinner in the room at the time. Let's just say that the next thing we need to teach her to say is "potty."

I can't believe we are going home this morning. After three weeks of living in hotels, of being the very clear minority, of soaking in an amazing culture and beautiful country, we are going back to P-Street. It's bittersweet, really. While I'm anxious to see everyone and sleep in my own bed, I'm already wondering when I can come back here.

It's the happiest place on earth

Unless you belong to this family, apparently.

Today we decided to end our China adventure with a trip to Hong Kong Disneyland because hey, you all know how I love The Mouse. ;-)

This is what I learned today:

(1) You can buy dried Korean squid right next to the Mickey Bucket O' Caramel Corn. Also, you can get some seriously delicious food at the River Cafe in Adventureland. 

 

(2) Climbing walls is way more fun than anything else in the park. Whenever we looked for Beatrix Nan Yu today, 9 times out of 1o we found her clinging to a wall or ledge of some sort.

(3) Cast members give out an unlimited number of stickers to the kids. You see a cast member, you get a sticker. Beatrix was covered head-to-toe in them by the end of the day, and Olivia used hers to decorate a few unsuspecting backs.

(4) Beatrix LOVED It's a Small World. When I took her on it a second time, she ran down the ramp, hung onto the railing, and jumped up and down in excitement until the gate opened and we could go in. After, she refused to budge from the boat. When I finally pried her out, she ran out and around and into the ride again. Subtle she is not.

(5)March 17th is the perfect day to go to Hong Kong Disney. We never waited more than 5 minutes for anything, including Space Mountain.

(6) You don't need your glasses on the right way to enjoy the PhilHarmagic.

 

(7) I way underdressed in my J.Jill pants and tee. What I SHOULD have been wearing was a Madonna outfit circa Like a Virgin -- lacy tights, short tulle-type skirts, teased hair, high heels. I also needed one of those little tiny hats or a set of ears. That one, at least, I could remedy. There wasn't much I could do about the rest - I'd left my lacy tights and bustier at home this trip.

(8) I though *I* took a lot of pictures. I've got nothing on the tourists at Hong Kong Disney. Also, I think we are in a lot of those pictures, freakshows that we are. 

 

Balls

 

This morning I took the girls back to the park ("Mom, let's go to the PARP!" yelped Olivia) after breakfast, where Olivia promptly got her squishy tomato stuck in the tree, then got her ball stuck trying to dislodge the tomato. (Don't ask.)

I'm pretty sure I gave all the old people at the park something to giggle about as I tried for 15 minutes to dislodge that damn ball using another ball and my shoe. At one point, I even contemplating climbing the stupid tree.

Finally a young couple took pity on me -- they grabbed a broom from a nearby building and he hoisted her up while she batted the ball out with the broom. 

Thank you, nice broom people. You made my morning. Without your help, Olivia would have never charmed this nice man into playing ball with her for ages while her little sister sat there watching, Thundercloud Face in full-on mode.

 

We saw the local primary school kids file outside for their morning exercise - Beatrix Nan Yu was fascinated and made us plop down on the sidewalk to watch. Why they don't do this in the states I'll never understand...

 

We're off for Hong Kong in the morning, which means -- *shudder* -- packing today. We dropped off one final load of laundry and will be purchasing one giant suitcase to contain all of the extra stuff we seem to have acquired over the last two weeks. It's a good thing I purged my house before we left 'cause we're going to need all the extra space we can get.

Hiiiii, Jie jie

This kid seriously loves a bath. Today I was sitting on the floor in one of our rooms and she pointed into the other room. When I didn't budge, she grabbed my hand and dragged me in. She marched me to the bathroom, pushed me in, shut the door behind us, and turned on the tub. We had The Thundercloud Face when I turned it off and told her it was nap time, not bath time. 

Tonight was her first two-word sentence -- well, the first one we can pinpoint, anyway. She does a lot of toddler babbling, and says individual words, but tonight she looked over at Olivia and said "hiiiiii, jie jie!" First of all, who knew she knew the word "hi?" Second of all, Olivia was so excited she nearly vibrated. This kind of stuff makes up for all those "mooooooommmmmmm, she just dropped my Kindle in the bathroooooooooom!" moments.

Three-hour nap today. Shockingly, this was the crankiest she's been at dinner yet. Perhaps we should have woken her up earlier. I tried that yesterday, when I wanted to take the girls to the playground to no shot birdies, but it took some serious effort. I picked her up out of the crib... nothing. I sat her upright... nothing. I said "Beatrix... Beatrix Nan Yu" over and over while tickling her chin and face. STILL nothing. Olivia tickled her stomach. STILL asleep. You all, she slept through all of that crap for a full 15 minutes before waking up. You know what this means, right? She will never, ever, ever sleep again once we get on that plane heading back to the US. 

I have never seen a kid happier to brush her teeth. "Shua ya," we'll say and she runs into the bathroom with a big smile on her face, grabs her toothbrush, and crams it into that mouth. Next up: Flossing. 

Potty training is hit or miss. She's been waking up dry in the mornings and using the potty, and will often use it during the day, but because we're not always in the room, she still uses her Pull Ups every so often. I hate that we've undone what her foster family and the SWI have already done, but until we're home, it's just super hard. Seriously... trying to maintain potty training with squatty potties and a child afraid of western toilets is beyond my capabilities right now. 

Pssst... you wanna buy a turtle?

No clue why he's trying to sell this turtle. Or why, y'know, he's wearing a hard hat. All I know is that he really, REALLY wanted us to buy that turtle.

Jason took us to the Six Banyan Buddhist temple here in Guangzhou yesterday morning and we had Beatrix Nan Yu blessed by the monk.  I stayed far, far, far away from the Buddha's belly because "one touch, one child." I think I'm pretty much all done now, thanks.

     

 While we were there, Jason taught us how to throw coins into this little hickamajiggy (that is, indeed, the technical term for it) - if you get the coin inside the hole, you will have good luck. If you get it in one hole and out the other, your whole family will have good luck. Guess who got the double shot, baby? *struts around proudly* Oh, yeah. 

     

After the temple -- and after we turned down Turtle Dude for the third, fourth, and fifth time -- we went to the local folk art museum. The carvings in this place were incredible - everything was so intricate. The doors, the walls, the archways, the roof. I cannot even begin to imagine how much time that took. 

Hellllooooooo, the audio version (plus a rant about jerkfaces)

I know you can't see much, but you can hear it. 

 

Today was our consulate appointment - we dropped banana strings all over the US Consulate waiting room, rearranged chairs, threw stools and abacuses (abaci?) out the playhouse window, took an oath, and signed some forms to get her visa. We already have her Chinese passport, and once we have her visa, we can leave. She'll become an American citizen as soon as we land in Detroit.

Yesterday was hard. You know I struggle with the issue of taking these children from China and raising them in the US... part of me is ok with it, and the other part feels like I'm acting all entitled, like OF COURSE these kids would be better in the states. This is going to be one of those things I struggle with for the rest of her life, I think - I want to make sure she understands where she comes from and all the wonderful things here.

But I digress. Last night, an American man in his 20s and a Chinese man were sitting outside near us. The Chinese man said, "Oh, your little girl is so beautiful, did you adopt her?" We talked for a few minutes about it, and about her, and it was a perfectly nice conversation. THEN the American dude was all, "It's such a shame. This is the last time that beautiful little girl will hear Chinese." He went on and on and on. I seriously wanted to punch him. Probably the only thing that kept me from doing so was that I didn't actually hear all of this clearly and wasn't sure what he'd said until we stood up, walked away, and they told me. By that time, the 24 pounds of tired Nan Yu were slowing me down and I figured it wasn't worth my effort to walk all the way back and kick that dude in the shins. Hard. 

He has NO idea about me, about us, about what we will or will not do with Beatrix Nan Yu. Stupid presumptuous, condescending, jerkface people. Hrmph.

Hellllooooooooooo

Three unrelated things:

(1) Beatrix Nan Yu says "hellloooooo" exactly like Seinfield. It cracks me up every. single. time.  She'll close the door, open it, and yell "helllooooooooooo" or she'll say it when someone walks into the room. 

(2) The other day I had her on my back in the mei tai and [TMI alert] had to use the squatty potty. She helpfully reached over, grabbed the toilet paper, and handed it to me. Love that girl. 

(3) The two girls really bonded the other day. Since she'd had a Mama kind of day, John did bedtime. As he was holding her, she cried and cried, calling out "jiejie, jiejie!" As soon as Olivia came into the room, she settled down and went to sleep. My heart might have melted just a little bit, there.

To read or not to read

For as sweet and giggly as Beatrix Nan Yu can be, she has what Olivia coined The Thundercloud Face. It's pure I AM GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY IF I DON'T GET WHAT I WANT. It's probably wrong to laugh at that face, huh? Yet it's so freaking dramatic that it just cracks me up. Her whole little face gets all frowny and she just radiates shrankiness from every pore.

She had The Thundercloud Face today as I was trying to read to her and Olivia. I don't think she's really been read to, and she doesn't quite understand the concept of listening to the words and looking at the pictures - she just frantically flips through the pages then tosses the book aside. Today I pulled Olivia on my lap and read her Owl Babies, with Beatrix Nan Yu trying to rip the book out of my hands the entire time.

Thankfully I'm (just barely) stronger than she is. I won the tug of war and continued reading. She relaxed a bit but was still way more interested in trying to turn the page than in listening or looking.

When I finished, Liv got up and returned to her own chair and her Kindle. Two seconds later, Beatrix Nan Yu backed herself up into my lap, sat down, and handed me the book.

Granted, we turned the pages reallyreallyreallyreally fast, but it's a start, right?

(Also, yay for Olivia who was graciously willing to be my behavior model.)

Qingping market

I love this country and will be so sad to leave. The people and places and food are all amazing - for as nice as it will be to go home and be given a napkin in a restaurant or have hangers for my skirts, I will miss China.

Yesterday Jason took us to Qingping market in the old section of Guangzhou. It's primarily a medicine/herbal market and a pet market. 

I learned that you can get just about anything on a stick or in dried form: sea horses, lizards, snakes, giant mushrooms, fish bubbles (not entirely sure what those are, still - there wasn't an easy translation), scorpions, squid, chicken kidneys...

   

Mostly the medicines are sold to pharmacists (or the Chinese equivalent) who are willing to spend the time boiling and making the teas and pills and whathaveyou. Jason informed me that most people don't have the time or inclination to make the remedies themselves; they buy them premade.

In the pet portion of the market we encountered vats of live scorpions (for eating), a moving bag (turtles? snakes?), cages of birds, some dogs, and a lot of fish.

  

Jason asked Olivia what pet she liked best, and whether we had any. I then made a strategic mistake.

"Do you have a pet, Jason?" He got a funny look on his face and said, "When I was seven, I had a dog but someone stole him and ate him. After that, no more dogs."

Dude. What do you SAY in response to that? 

 

More randoms

I have nothing to tie these together except for the fact that they all happened over the last 24 hours. So, bullet points it is...

• John ordered dinner last night, including going up to the tanks and picking out our (delicious) whole fish that a certain small child devoured. At one point she stuffed an unholy amount in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, then opened up to reveal all the fish bones she'd carefully separated. She spit them out one by one onto John's plate. He might have deserved that after ordering a mystery dish, urging us all to try it without telling us what it was, then revealing it was SIZZLING FISH INTESTINE. Even he didn't like it. 

• As we ate dinner, three glasses of ice wine appeared - the group at the next table over sent them. Yum.

• While Beatrix Nan Yu still won't call us Mama and Baba, she seems to know we are her people. She will (sometimes gently, sometimes not) tap me on the shoulder or take my hand and lead me to whatever it is she wants or needs help with. She will only let me, John, and Olivia feed her; even if it's something she really wants, she won't take it from anyone else. This is all good - exactly what we hoped would happen.

• Yesterday I put her on her little purple potty chair. She got up, dragged the potty chair so it was right in front of the coffee table  (where her toys were strewn), then plopped back down and played while she pooped. 

• Pearl shopping is apparently very boring when you are two. She slept through all the damage we did in the pearl market yesterday - rings and a necklace for me, necklaces for both girls when they are older, bracelets for all the nieces, gifts for our parents... I seriously could have taken one of everything in that store. It's unreal how inexpensive it was. Olivia had a fabulous time and managed to cajole some gifts for her friends from me. 

• We visited the local, old-school Guangzhou market yesterday; it was one of the most fascinating places I've seen. That -- and the pictures -- will need to be its own post. 

• Dude, I got peed on last night. I sat Nan Yu on her potty but she didn't want to go and instead laid down for a diaper. When I tried to put it on her, she giggled, wriggled away, and went running into the other room. Not two minutes later, she followed me into the bathroom, stood next to me while I brushed my teeth, and PEED ALL OVER MY FOOT AND THE FLOOR. Ah, the things I'd forgotten about toddlerhood. Since it meant a second bath for her -- her favorite thing -- I fear this might become a habit.

• I am seriously going to miss the lack of breakfast bar at home. I'm spoiled by the espresso, the fresh fruit that is already peeled and cut up, and the noodle bar where the chef creates whatever concoction of noodles, veggies, and dumplings you want. Going home is going to be one very rude awakening. What do you mean, I have to make my own damn breakfast?!

• After an infusion of ice cream and french fries, Olivia is feeling much better. She's still a little (ok, a lot) fragile, but I think we'll make it. I'm hoping that once we're back home and she's back in her routine of school and dance and friends, it will be easier for her.

 

 

The hardest day

Every parent who adopts a child from China knows that the birthparents abandoned the child, often just a few days after birth. The reasons vary wildly, but I truly believe that these women are making what they feel is the best or only choice for their child's future. I cannot even begin to imagine the horror of having to make that decision, of feeling like that's the best option.

Every parent who adopts a child from China also knows that he or she has spent time in an orphanage. No matter how clean or how new the orphanage, no matter how loving the ayi, the hard fact remains that one side of your child's head is flatter than the other because she spent so much time lying in a crib; one ayi for 18 toddlers doesn't allow for much holding or one-on-one attention.

Every parent knows these things on a logical level. I knew them -- I'd even seen pictures of the orphanage online -- and yet I was completely unprepared when the reality smacked me in the face.

Orphanage

We drove three hours to Shenzhen to visit her orphanage. As we arrived, Jason explained to Nan Yu that we were here for a visit, she wasn't going to sleep here, and she'd stay with Mama and Baba and jiejie. I hoisted her into the mei tai and apprehensively trailed them into the building. The staff and the ayis all called out to Nan Yu and tried to kiss her, but she wanted nothing to do with them. She even refused the drink they offered. She was, with them, how she was with us on Monday afternoon. 

The orphanage was new -- one of the nicer ones, actually -- and yet it was so sobering. Bars and locked gates everywhere. Rooms of cribs full of toddlers, some sleeping, some standing and staring at us. A row of special-needs wheelchairs with trays and headrests. Each child's crib with a mosquito net and two changes of clothing above it. To say it was institutional would be an understatement. It was quite clear that the ayis loved Nan Yu and that they did the best they could, but it still broke my heart to see it in person.

Not all was horrible, though. Two good things, one amusing thing:

(1) We discovered that her birthmother left her with a note. That's quite rare, and we were able to see the original and make a copy. We were also able to see the picture from when she was first brought in -- it's the only baby picture of her we'll ever see.

(2) Her foster mom loved her and came to visit her twice over the last few weeks. That made me both happy and sad and I've asked whether we can send a note and pictures to the foster mom once we return home.

(2) Nan Yu's ayi told us we didn't have enough layers on her. You've seen the Michelin Man Effect, right? When we got Nan Yu on Monday, she had on at least three layers, and it was warm outside. I've been waiting for someone to yell at us for "only" putting a shirt and coat and pants on her...

 

Finding Spot

I can't even describe this; it's really Beatrix Nan Yu's story to tell, if she chooses to do so, when she's older. Suffice it to say that I can't remember the last time I've cried so much. 

She was so sweet - she grabbed a tissue and wiped away my tears. Thinking about what must have been running through her birthmother's mind when she left Beatrix Nan Yu there... it just kills me. (And now I'm crying again.) This might have been one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, but I'm so glad I did it. If or when Beatrix Nan Yu has questions, I can at least answer some of them for her and show her the pictures.

Her hair had a party last night

The shorter the hair, the bigger the party.

 

Also? Shutting doors is the most fun thing ever. Until you lock yourself in one room and your family in the other. Then it sucks and you cry until someone finds the spare key to the suite and goes in to open the other door. John used duct tape to prevent the doors from shutting and latching after it was clear she was still going to do this. Ah,  duct tape... is there ANYTHING it can't fix?

I eel good, just like I knew that I would now...

(apologies to James Brown)

Dinner tonight was a success on all fronts.

(1) We actually ordered something. (Contrast to the other night where we never could get a menu and ended up walking out and buying instant noodles at the 7 Eleven. Awesome.)

(2) No toys were lost or thrown during the meal.

(3) The food was delicious.

(4) Olivia had a great time feeding Nan Yu and teaching her how to color.

(5) Nan Yu scarfed down more of John's eel than he did. She kept putting her spoon in front of him so he could drop another piece on there for her to cram into her mouth. You all, that kid eats eel like it's going out of style. (Hrm. Was it ever IN style?) Wonder if she would have eaten the water beetles or seal snakes that were on the menu? Somehow, I suspect yes. She takes after her father, it appears.

In stark contrast, I had to placate Olivia with the promise of fries from the hotel restaurant. (She's been a good sport and ate a bunch of my mapo tofu tonight, but since I personally would give my right arm for a margarita and a burrito right about now, I can kind of understand where she's coming from.)

In other news, we are making more progress. We giggled and giggled playing "whoooosh the towel" after bathtime and she actually let me stroke her back and put on lotion. (Last night she was all, "play with me but DO NOT TOUCH ME.") For the first time, she protested bed -- I thought I ordered a good sleeper this time?! I was able to get her to stop crying and go to sleep by singing and naming everyone who loves her. Thank the sweet baby Jesus we have a huge family and an awesome group of friends 'cause it took a while to get her lulled into sleep.

That's the way I like it

Things that Beatrix Nan Yu enjoys:

(1) Running around nekkid after her bath.

(2) Climbing onto and sliding off of the bed 9,286,190 times in a fifteen minute span.

(3) Eating. She and Olivia are yin and yang. Olivia's got the fruit and veggie end covered, and Beatrix is all about the meat and the rice and the bread and the dumplings.

(4) Being carried in the mei tai (and dropping raisins all down my back).

(5) Sliding from one end of the tub to the other when the water is almost drained out and the tub is still slippery. 

(6) Being chased by Olivia.

(7) Playing peek-a-boo.

(8) Throwing stuff. That kid has a future on a softball team, for real.

Things she does not enjoy:

(1) TB tests. She cried and cried (and as much as I hate to admit it, I was kinda glad because it was one of the few times I could snuggle her) until I made the magic bag of snacks appear.

(2) Letting anyone help her brush her teeth, put on her socks, or push the elevator button. I. Will. Do. It. Myself.

(3) Watermelon. Apparently it's the grossest food, ever.

(4) Being held or being read to. The only time she stops moving is when she first wakes up from nap/bed (we can snuggle her then) or when she's in the mei tai. I don't know if she'll aways be like this, or if it's a coping mechanism, but I'm dying to just hold her and cuddle her like I did (and still do) with Olivia. 

Today was the medical examination. Unbelievably, she doesn't even have a scar from her heart surgery, and he didn't find a heart murmur or anything abnormal sounding in her lungs. Phew. He mumbled something that sounded like "hernia" as he was palpating her tummy, but there wasn't time for questions. We'll ask when we see Dr. Springer in a few weeks, I guess.

Today she also called Olivia jiejie (big sister) for the first time. I think that helped Olivia's emotional state quite a bit - she was so proud. 

Tomorrow is our visit to the orphanage and to her finding spot. I imagine it's going to be a very difficult day for all of us, but it's something we need to do for her, for when she has questions in the future.

The rest of the story

I am so, so in love with this little child. And not just because when we say "It's time for bed" and put her in her crib, she falls right asleep and sleeps all night long. (I've heard about children who do this, but I thought it was an urban legend since Miss O has scoffed at sleep from day 1.)

In no particular order, things I want to remember:

(1) She loves that backpack and looks so stinking cute with it. She insists on wearing it everywhere, then when we stop, she'll take it off, stuff her head inside, and pull out everything one by one. If I say to her (in English) "Nan Yu, where is your backpack? Go get it!" she runs and grabs it. Smart girl!

(2) Last night she ran into the bedroom, said "Mama" and smacked my butt. I could have done without the butt smack, but OMG. She called me mama. We're still working on getting her to say "baba" and "jie jie" but she's started talking so much more in the last 24 hours it's unreal. Today in the van she took my water bottle, opened it, handed it to me, and said "he" (drink). She also started saying hello today. 

(3) That kid is an eating machine. For breakfast I took her around the buffet and pointed at everything. "Yao bu yao zhe ge?" (Do you want this?) She definitively shook her head yes or no at each choice, then proceeded to devour a bowl of congee, two pieces of bread, scary amounts of dumplings and some noodles. With a GIANT fork. She is determined to use a fork for some reason, even for her bread. At points she'd get so frustrated that she'd pick up the noodle or bread with her fingers, carefully lay it on the fork, then eat it. 

Or, y'know, just stick her head down onto her plate...

   

(4) The nannies brought her with everything we sent - I was shocked. She had the stuffed duck, the books, the socks and unnerwears, the puzzles, and a lovely picture album that the foster mother put together. We have two undeveloped cameras we need to drop off today - can't wait to see those pictures.

(5) When she woke up this morning she was clearly wary. Hell, who wouldn't be, if you woke up in a strange crib with three white people standing over you and grinning like idiots? She let me snuggle her for a while and stroke her leg, then seemed happy to get dressed and brush her teeth (herself, of course, and with the wrong side of the toothbrush) and head to breakfast.

(6) She LOVED the bath yesterday and did not want to get out. Every time I opened the drain to let out the water, she instantly closed it again. I don't think she's ever taken a bath with running water before - John said she was amazed by it and kept trying to grab at it.

(7) Nan Yu is so feisty and energetic. If she doesn't want something, she lets you know with a very firm shake of her head. She just goes and goes and goes -- this morning, she spent ages shoving around plastic stools in the playroom at the registry office -- and has the sweetest smile and giggle that she's been showing us more and more often. 

(8) Today was the end of the Harmonious Period (the time between receiving your child and registering the adoption with the government) and we went back to the offices to meet with the officials and sign up forever as Nan Yu's parents. They asked us if we were happy with her and asked us how we planned to care for her, and asked us to promise to never abandon her or abuse her. We were only to happy to say yes and to make those promises.

(9) Miss O hit a wall today. She broke down in tears. "I just want to go home. I miss our house, and my friends, and Folly, and Pointy and Hedgie [stuffed animals]" and I just want to go home." I took her back to the room and rocked her 'til she fell asleep. My heart breaks that she is so off kilter and anxious. I think we'll be using the old divide-and-conquer strategy for a while, here.

Randoms

Today's discovery: Street Food Pringles. For reals. Next to the regular and sour cream and onion are Hong Kong Fish Ball and Indonesian Satay. I must try these before we leave.

   

Also, these potato chip bags scare me. I'm not sure what's freakier: the slavering chip (I taste so good I make myself drool!) or the blushing chip (I'm so embarrassed to be a mere potato chip...). 

Our trip to Carrefour (the French version of WalMart) was awesome. (Well, except for the part when Nan Yu spilled her bag of raisins all. over. everywhere. I'd sort of forgotten about toddlers and the Floor Cleanup Of Shame...) I could have spent all day in there looking at stuff. So many interesting and fun things - I just wish I knew what half of them were. We left with a potty chair (Nan Yu is so offended by diapers but is terrified of the big toilet), snacks, water, a wireless router, fresh Chinese dates, toys, and some mysterious liquor for Jeff and Sarah, all for under 70 bucks. 

Speaking of food: There are a ton of fish restaurants here on the island, and by fish restaurant, I mean "walk in, pick your live fish from the tank, and wait for them to cook it." I'm looking forward to dinner there one night soon. Hello, Mr. Fish... I'll just be eating you now.

Completely unrelated: What do Chinese hotels have against skirt hangers? Seriously. Two hotels, neither of which has any implement for hanging up skirts. I've had slippers and robes and bath products coming out of my ears, and a pillow menu to boot, but not one single hanger that can handle a skirt. 

Meeting Beatrix Nan Yu

Sweet Fancy Moses, I forgot what it was like to parent a two-year-old. It's exhausting. That child -- like Miss O -- is pure energy. A whirlwind of destruction and quite possibly an imminent career in hacking iPhones.

It's been a long, scary, wonderful day. I spent most of the morning feeling as if I needed to hurl (Trina aptly coined it morning sickness), and time both flew and crawled as we waited for our 2:00 ride to the provincial office building.

When we got there, Jason (our rep) checked the playroom and said "She's back there! And she's so cute! She waved bye-bye and blew me a kiss!" I think that might have been what tipped me over the edge - knowing she was there, and was happy. Cue the tears...

They walked her out to us and she looked exactly like her pictures - I'd know that little face anywhere after staring at it for almost four months. As soon as she got to us and her nannies explained who we were, she had such a look of horror on her little face. Poor baby - I can't imagine what must have been running through her mind. All I wanted to do was hold her, but I didn't want to take her and make her cry. The nannies were wonderful - they led us to a corner and pointed to us and say "mama, baba, jiejie" and tried to cajole her into looking at us. They had packed a bag of her favorite food (raisins) and drinks so we could try to, uh, win her love (or at least like) with some food.

Finally John pulled her backward onto his lap and she sat there as we read a book - she still wouldn't really look at us, but at least we could hold her and she wasn't crying. Of course, she DID pee on him, so...

When it was time to go talk to the nannies and orphanage staff about Nan Yu's habits, likes, dislikes, John went and I shifted her onto my lap. That's when I noticed the pee, and we went to change her. Cue the hysterical sobs. :-(

I held her and kept repeating (in my horrible Mandarin) that I loved her, and to not be afraid, and don't cry. At some point, one of us remembered the ridiculous sheep cell phone that I made John buy this morning and it was MAGIC. She stopped crying and started playing. (Aside: Apologies to all of the other families in the room because that thing was LOUD. And annoying.) As toddlers are wont to do, she dropped it and the back popped off - what could have been a tragedy became the best thing, ever. She spent 20 minutes taking out the batteries, putting them back in, and then taking them out and hurling them across the room for Olivia to fetch. That was so much fun that she giggled until she snorted. She is so very definitely my kid...

When we got back to the hotel, she refused to take off the backpack Grammie had sent. She stood at the table and played and giggled and stuffed her face full of little panda crackers. When we put her in the bath, she was dubious at first but then loved it, to the point that she figured out how to shut the drain every time I tried to open it to let out the water. She's so funny - she didn't want to sit, and spent most of the bath squatting. The washcloth and bath toys were a giant hit. She kept washing her face with the wet washcloth, then reaching into my lap for the dry towel to wipe off her face. 

She's just so... BUSY. And maybe slightly OCD. At dinner tonight, she spilled a bit of soy milk on herself, so I whipped out a wipe to clean it up. She took it from me, wiped off her arm, then proceeded to wipe up the table. For twenty minutes. You all, she picked up every item on the table -- books, cups, dishes -- and methodically wiped under them and put them back. And then did it again. And again. I have a feeling that if she's going to destroy my house, at least she'll clean up after herself.

I am so in love with those giggles and smiles and sighs and that pudgy little toddler belly. She is so smart and so sweet, and SO feisty. I think we're gonna have our hands full with this one... 

Tea? She drinks TEA after her nap?

Faxed over to our agency representative this morning:

We leave in one hour. I would like to bestow a big smooch on the person who invented Xanax.

Crib shock

We walked into our room here in Guangzhou and found this:

That took my breath away. It's suddenly very, very real.

Recounting

I should have known better. I smugly said to John on Wednesday (or was it Thursday? Probably Thursday. I can’t keep the days straight.) “This is awesome – I think I escaped jet lag. I feel totally normal.”

 Bwahahahahahahahaha. Thanks, universe, for listening to me and giving me a smack upside the head. I have been dying these last few days. The other night I went to bed at 11pm and was up for good at 2am. Not much better the next night. And tonight… well, I don’t think I’ll be sleeping very well because OMG WE MEET BEATRIX NAN YU TOMORROW.

 So, a roundup of the last few days. Apologies - this will be long. 

Temple of Heaven. We started Saturday morning at Temple of Heaven, wandering around the park outside while we waited for our guide. I think that might be my favorite thing I’ve done so far – just watching the older Beijingers gather in the park to exercise, talk, and play “Chinese Cheese” (as my friend called it). Watching the people dance and do tai chi and sing and stretch was… I don’t know how to describe it. I only wish our parks were more like this.  It was such a simple but beautiful experience to watch these people go about their morning routines. In the states, people are too embarrassed to dance or sing in public (I admit, I would have been too self conscious to join in), but here, no one worries. They do it because they love it and it feels good. 

Olivia as Rock Star. We’d been told that people often ask to take pictures with westerners, but it had only happened once on Friday (some dude in the hutong took our picture as we walked down the street) and I didn’t really expect it because we aren’t tall or blonde or especially interesting looking. Yesterday was a whole different story…  Olivia was like a mini rock star. “Please, picture with her? Picture with you?” She was SUCH a good sport about it, even though I know it made her uncomfortable. By the end, she was flashing the peace sign with the best of them. I said to her, “You DID ask George to be a famous rock star, right? This is good practice.” I’m pretty sure her eyes are still stuck in the back of her head in response.

   

Forbidden City. You all, I knew it was big, but I didn’t know it was THAT BIG. It truly is a city, and it’s phenomenally gorgeous. The pictures don’t do it justice – I couldn’t capture the size and the magnificence with a puny 50mm lens. 

   

Olivia vs. the Squatty Potty. You know she gamely tried our first day here, then changed her mind. Well, the other night she had to pee and there was no other alternative. That child took five full minutes to pee and has sworn off squatty potties for the rest of her life. “It was haaaaaaard.” I suspect that it was more because it was a modern SP (that sounds like an oxymoron, no?) that auto-flushed every time it sensed movement -- it flushed every single time Olivia moved, which was at least 10 times. And Olivia has had A Thing About Auto-Flush Toilets since she was potty training, so this just cemented her hatred. (On the other side of the spectrum, I was expecting SPs to be horrible, and they aren’t, at all. People made them sound like the portal to hell and possibly like some horrible eight-headed, twelve-armed creature was going to rise up and bite your arse. While they aren’t the most comfortable things ever, I’ve only seen a two-headed, four-armed creature rise up and it didn’t even have any teeth to bite with. So.)

Food. John was all about the organ meat at dinner last night. Again. This time, duck intestine. Unsurprisingly, he had the whole plate of it to himself. Olivia’s struggling a little now that we’ve been here for almost a week; she hasn’t eaten much, with the exception of the roasted duck skin that you dip into sugar so that it dissolves in your mouth. She will roshambo anyone for the last piece of that on a plate. 

Jennifer vs. the sink. After four or five days of being so super careful about not using the tap water to brush my teeth, I almost slipped this morning. I pasted my brush, turned on the tap, and was mere inches away from the stream of water before I realized what the heck I was doing. 

On feeling like a hotel thief. John went to check out this morning and I went back to the room to gather our things. As I was zipping up the last suitcase, the doorbell rang. Instead of John, it was a housekeeper. She came in and meticulously counted everything (pillows, towels, slippers, bottles of water, remote controls, tea mugs) and opened all of the cans of Pringles in the mini bar to ensure they were still sealed and full and we hadn’t eaten them and just put the lid back on. When she was satisfied that we hadn’t stolen the bed or a chair or the tea kettle, she called down to the front desk to say all was ok. I guess the Hotel G is pretty protective of its Grumpy Pillows. 

 

I would walk five hundred miles...

And I feel like maybe I did, today. (Another plug for the Wolky's - brand new pair, totally comfortable all day long.)

We met Meng at the zoo this morning so Miss O could see the pandas -- I hadn't even thought of that (it was Meng's suggestion) and she loved it. She then dragged us to the aquarium so we could look at a million fish. You all know how I feel about the fish-looking... Fish eating? Fine. Fish peeping for fun? Notsomuch. But whatever, she was happy.

Speaking of fish: I am going to leave here about 10 pounds heavier - I keep eating and eating and eating. Lunch was at a famous noodle house. It was the kind of place I'd be intimidated by if I were on my own: Noisy, hectic, no one spoke any English, and the food was unrecognizable even in picture form because there just are no equivalents in the US.

Meng ordered a bunch of delicious things and I ate until I could eat no more. At the end of the meal, the waiter brought a cup of hot liquid. Tea?, we asked. Nope... it's the water the noodles were cooked in. Good for digesting the food it was used to cook. 

   

    

We spent the next three or four hours wandering around the old city. It's amazing how you can be in so many parts of Beijing and see only the tall, modern buildings and then suddenly you run smack into a piece of the old city -- a city gate or wall, or a palace, or the hutongs. It's like two completely different Beijings. 

Meng took us to Nan Luo Gu Xiang first and we just walked and walked through the old city neighborhoods/hutongs. We saw bugs on sticks, old men swimming in the still-frozen lake, the hutong equivalent of a food court (the Juimen Snacks hall, tucked away in a building I never would have discovered on my own), and incredibly beautiful buildings. The hutongs felt a lot like P-Street, actually - people living close together and forming a family of sorts, with the kids all playing together and the adults pooling their patience and friendship and communal courtyards.

Dinner was roasted duck at QuanJuDe with a bunch of people from the IBM Beijing lab that I've worked with over the years. It was absolutely amazing to finally meet the people behind the emails and conference calls and sametimes - they are kind and funny and generous and I felt really honored that they would take the time to have dinner with us. They presented Olivia with a beautiful strand of pearls at the end of dinner - she couldn't have been more thrilled and I couldn't have been more surprised. Taking a group photo was hysterical - Wen Chao had actually brought a tripod and a remote and there was much moving of tables and general mayhem as we tried to get everyone in the shot.

I'd never eaten roasted (peking) duck before - I mean, everyone HEARS about it, but I just never managed to eat it. Oh, the yum. There were pancakes to wrap up duck and vegetables, there were platters of veggies, and there were also platters of every duck part imaginable. John had a tutorial in how to eat the head ("What do you think the duck's last thoughts were?" Miss O asked, as John grasped the brain in his chopsticks. "Not happy ones.") and we all ate the knees (I didn't even think ducks HAD knees). There was duck heart, duck stomach, and then these cute little pastry ducks that were filled with who-knows-what but were absolutely delicious. We had a debate over whether it was better to eat the head or the body first. I went with the head, Miss O went with the butt, and everyone else went with the body, proving that there is no wrong way to eat a pastry duck.

I am forever spoiled now by the food here. There's no way I can go back home and order some General Tso's chicken from Tai Pei. (Aside: They were all baffled by the concept of the fortune cookie, so now I feel like I should send a bag just so they can see what crazy things Americans are being taught about Chinese. Tee hee.) 

Peaceful

By the numbers (Beijing Day 1)

Number of times I had to get a deli-ticket-like number at the bank: 2 

Number of times I actually NEEDED that number because I should have just gone to the one window labeled Exchange: 0

Number of squatty potties used: 1 

Number of intricately carved, unique lion statues lining the walkways and bridges at the Summer Palace: 544

Number of cars, bicyclists, and pedestrians our driver almost hit: 682

Number of years it takes before a silkworm starts vomiting out silk: 5

 Number of silk pillowcases purchased: 4

Number of glasses of boiling water I accidentally ordered at dinner: 3

Number of Grumpy Pillows now in our room: 2

 I am surprised by how normal I feel; I guess the real test will be trying to go to sleep tonight. Last night I was so damn tired that I could have slept standing on my head on an escalator.

 We were all up before 6am this morning and I made myself what might have been the strongest coffee I’ve ever had. FYI: One full packet of Starbucks Via in a tiny tea cup = coffee you can stand your spoon in.

 Breakfast in the hotel, then Miss O and I set off for the bank to change some money. Whoa. Welcome to China. People were queued up to get in even before the bank opened, and as soon as I walked through the door, an armed guard handed me a ticket – kinda like the Giant Eagle deli counter, only minus the chip-chopped ham and plus the weapon. I missed my first number and had to go get a second one (I tried to make Miss O do it, but she chickened out.) When it was finally our turn, I walked up to the window, handed over my cash and passport, and mumbled something that might have been “My name is exchanging this into RMB, please.” Turns out, I didn’t even NEED a ticket and was shuttled off to the Exchange window where our bills passed inspection (phew) and my passport was photocopied and other mysterious things happened but, y’know, I left with my RMB so I consider that a win.

 The guide and driver met us here at noon and we set off for the Summer Palace first. When I was an undergrad, I used to complain bitterly about the wind on campus and sacrificed many an umbrella to said wind. However, that wind? It is total sissy wind compared to what was whipping off the Kunming Lake on a chilly March afternoon.   The grounds and pavilions were so beautiful and so intricately painted, and we had almost the whole place to ourselves. I’m sad it wasn’t warm – the lake was frozen over so we couldn’t take the boat across to the Tower of the Fragrance of Buddha or the Hall that Dispels the Clouds (aside: I am so totally naming my future vacation house something like this).

 After, we wandered into the pearl market where I had another milestone: My first squatty potty.

 I no longer regret a single one of those lunges or squats in BodyPump because every  one of them came in handy today.  AND I didn’t even get any pee on my cute new shoes.

  We drove by the bird’s nest and the water cube, then our guide took us to the silk hall where we got to pull silk webs for a quilt. It was half museum, half store and I found a really suh-weeeet blue silk shirt with subtle polka dots that would look absolutely fetching on John. Okay, really I found a bunch of quilts and duvet covers and pillow cases that I wanted but I restrained myself and bought only pillow cases. This, even after the woman demonstrated how they could vacuum seal that quilt so that it takes up less room in my suitcase than my underwear. Such self restraint.

 Dinner was… interesting. First of all, it was delicious. HOWEVER, the act of getting there, ordering it, paying for it, and finding a cab to take us back home was exhausting. No one spoke English, my cave Mandarin was no match for what might be the most complicated first meal to order, ever: traditional hot pot. Finally the poor waiter realized we were clueless and brought us a picture menu. There was a lot of pointing and nodding, and perhaps there was even some boiled water that arrived when I tried to order sparkling or bottled water, but the food itself was good and eventually we managed to pay and find a taxi back to the hotel (second time’s the charm), then successfully Froggered across the street without getting smooshed.

 Now, sleep. Tomorrow is the Great Wall and some of the delicious farmhouse fish for lunch that my colleague Meng has been telling me about.

 

 

The stairmaster has nothing on the Great Wall

You know what is ridiculous and cool all at the same time? A giant toboggan down from the Great Wall. And no, I am not making this up, much as I wish otherwise. There is actually a giant luge-like thing that you can ride from the top all the way to the bottom. The guy in front of me was quite the Sunday driver... S-L-O-W-P-O-K-E. Miss O kept trying to gun it, but we couldn't very well run over the nicely suited Asian man without causing some sort of international incident.

   

 

There’s also a cable car to take the sissies up to the top of the wall, but I’m apparently a horrible mother and made my child use the Number 11 Bus (as our guide calls it) to walk all the way up. We might have climbed somewhere in the neighborhood of 9,531 stairs – and whoa, do my thighs hurt – but it was amazing up there. We went to the Mutianyu section and it was nearly deserted – just us, a few other tourists, and all. those. steps.  I wish I could have captured in pictures what I actually saw, but that seems impossible.

    

     

Meng had told me to eat the “farmhouse food” around this part of the wall, and our guide took us to a place that had some of the most fantastic food I’ve ever had. There was a roasted/barbecued golden trout freshly pulled from the water, some sort of local vegetable that may or may not have been a weed or part of a chrysanthemum, kung pao chicken (no celery!) and tofu + meatball soup. Our guide and driver ate with us and we spent the meal grilling her with all the random questions we had. I felt quite bad for the driver – he doesn’t speak English, so I’m pretty sure that lunch must have bored him to tears. However, since he hasn’t yet killed us over the last two days, I’m glad we could at least buy him a meal.

We spent some quality time (and, um, RMB) at cloisonné and lacquerware workshops. First of all, I had no idea cloisonné was actually copper and not porcelain. Learn something new every day… Second of all, the lacquerware? OMG. These women start with a form and coat it with at least a hundred coats of special paint. They then remove the form and begin hand-carving the details. These things are so incredibly intricate – multi-dimensional with the tiniest of details. It can take a year to make a single piece, which blows my slightly ADHD mind. I’m pretty sure I’d lose interest after about 42 minutes.

     

       

Miss O was in a great mood today and even braved the squatty potty. Granted, she gave up after a minute and went in the regular stall, but man, I love that kid for trying.

 I think the jet lag finally (FINALLY) hit me today. I am so ready for bed and it’s still early yet. Can’t even muster the strength to go find dinner.

Speaking of dinner, remember my difficulty ordering sparking water last night? Well, today our guide tried to order it and even she had a hard time explaining what we wanted. HA. I feel so vindicated. I think that, all things considering, my boiling (iow, bubbling/sparkling) water coup last night was pretty impressive, thankyouverymuch.

I leave you with this very important message:

 

Dude. What happened to my Tuesday?

I know we left our house at 4am on Monday, February 28.

I know we arrived in Beijing at 12:02 am on Wednesday, March 2.

WHAT happened to my Tuesday? I can trace all of Monday to the plane, and part of Tuesday. But the rest of Tuesday? POOF. Traveling into the future is freaky.

Our trip didn't start off well - almost two hours on the tarmac waiting for the lightning storm to pass (lightning storm? in February? in Pittsburgh?). By the time we boarded our flight to Tokyo, we thought we'd had our fair share of delayed-plane-ju-ju. See how happy and optimistic we looked?

THREE HOURS LATER, we finally pulled away from the gate. Seems there was a slight issue with the fuel tanks - enough to summon a scary amount of emergency vehicles to the tarmac while we all sat inside. Awesome. However, John and I clearly (VERY clearly) made the right choice to splurge on the business class seats because my sanity would have been shredded by the time that wait was over had I not had free champagne and a very comfortable seat.

By the hair of our chinny-chin-chins we just made our flight to Beijing. We were all sad to miss sushi during our Tokyo layover, but the plane meals totally made up for that. I had yummy sushi and other unidentifiable things on my dinner, and Miss O had the most awesome bento-type dinner, ever. They made an airplane out of rice and eggs and broccoli. Most impressive.

We are at Hotel G and I'm currently deciding whether I want the Grumpy pillow (mmm... buckwheat) the Gaily pillow (laurel-blossom) or the Glamorous pillow (silk!) from the -- I kid you not -- pillow menu. This morning Miss O and I had our first experience at a Chinese bank changing money and this afternoon we're heading to the Summer Palace. 

 

3:15 is really early

But so is 1:27 AM, which is when I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep until maybe five minutes before the 3:15 alarmwent off. You know, it's so awesome when that happens.

As Miss O was coming down the stairs, she yelped, "Ali's at the door!" I pretty much thought she was hallucinating, but no... in fact, Ali and Sarah were both there, waiting to see us off. It was such a small thing but it left a giant smile on my face. Street People are truly the best.

We are now plopped in the Delta club in the Minneapolis airport while we wait for our flight to Tokyo. From there, it's on to Beijing. John made me a lovely (and very spicy) bloody mary and I'm mooching all the free bagels and dried fruit I can. If we have to have a layover, this is the way to do it. Big chairs, cocktails, free wi-fi, and snacks.

One of my coworkers from the Beijing lab just emailed to say he's taking the day off on Friday to spend with us (that's huge) and that we'll be having dinner Friday night with a whole bunch of my colleagues that I've never met because, well, they live in China. Luckily John and Olivia are an agreeable lot and didn't protest too much. (I am so relieved to have a friend as a guide on that Friday, and I am indebted to him for all the good information he's given me on restaurants and dishes and places to visit.

You all, this is shaping up to be the best -- but scariest, and potentially hardest -- trip ever. 

 

Cramming

It didn't look like that much when it was all in a heap in the guest room. Really. 

 

I'm pretty sure its mass or volume or whatever magically doubled the second we tried to cram it all into our three suitcases. But, crammed it is... We won't discuss all the space bags, or the rather peculiar-looking method used to expel every last tidbit of air.

Whoa. We are packed.

Three checked bags, three carry ons.

I think that's pretty stinkin' impressive, considering all the crap we have to bring for a three-week trip with vastly different weather in Beijing and Guangzhou.

And considering all the random items we've got, like a vegetable peeler, and gifts for the officials and my friend Wang Meng, and toddler toys, and (ACK) Pull-Ups, and my handy-dandy Mandarin phrasebook that will let me ask how to protest privatization. Plus, y'know, some clothes and toiletries and approximately one gallon of hanitizer.

 

While we're on the topic of things that make me happy

Shoes. When I find a pair I love, they make me very, very happy.

Last summer as I was healing from the lisfranc ligament injury, my ortho strictly forbade flipflops and strappy sandals. I freaked out for about 3 minutes before I realized, "Duh, this is an excuse to go shoe shopping at Little's." 

It was then that I put on the absolute most comfortable pair of shoes I ever owned. It was a brand I'd never heard of or worn (Wolky) but I was IN LOVE. Alas, they didn't have the pair I wanted in black, so I settled for a funky greenish/grayish black patent instead. I have worn these shoes to death in the last year.

This weekend I was thinking about what shoes I needed to pack - I wanted something stylish but comfortable, and that could be worn with long pants or skirts, or capris and shorter skirts, all in gray or black or brown. Tall order for one or two pairs of shoes, no? I thought I'd just take the Wolkys I owned, but since they aren't exactly black, they look funny with gray pants, and don't look so hot with black tights or socks.

I popped into Little's when I was waiting for Miss O to finish ballet, and OMG, they had my favorite shoes in black this time. 

Then they also had these, which just might have come home with me, too:

Gratitude

Many of you know how hard it is for me to ask for or accept help. I'm stubborn that way, often to the detriment of my sanity. (Stop laughing. I'm pretty sure there's some sanity left in there, somewhere.) I'm trying hard to fix this, and was thinking this weekend (not for the first time) just how lucky I am to have all of you in my life. 

Thank you to Erin, who texted me the other night and offered sanity in the form of a cocktail at our new local place. Sadly, I had to take a raincheck, but that text brightened my day. And for offering to coordinate meal delivery or go to the grocery store for us before we come home. All this, while prepping for her dissertation defense next week.

Thank you to Milena, who offered her Saturday morning for breakfast or a walk. That hour-long walk around Highland Park put me in such a good mood for the rest of the day; I burned off so much nervous energy and loved having a chance to catch up with her.

Thank you to Jamie, who happened to be a CommonPlace Coffee on Saturday and let me barge in on her study session and share all those really useful phrases from my Mandarin guidebook. "These drugs are for personal use only." "I'm high." "How do we protest privatization?" "He is only using me for sex." 

Thank you to Linda, for the kind words in email that I read when I rolled over the other morning and checked my phone. I started my day with a smile.

Thank you to the Street People, who went all out and threw us an amazing, wonderful shower. 

           

           

Because it's P-Street, there was no shortage of delicious food. There were homemade samosas and dumplings, delicious beef satay, cheeses and fruits and dips, Lisa's spanakopita, and a decadent cake from the neighborhood gourmet bakery. 

Thank you to Rebecca and Esko, who brought over a bundle of maps and information from their years living in Beijing, as well as the name of their favorite driver.

Thank you to John, who gave himself an eye twitch and quite possibly lasting emotional scars trying to sort out the airline mess. And, y'know, for being an awesome husband. And for making a really great green mango salad last night.

Thank you to EVERYONE who has said "what do you need?" and "what can I do to help?" and who has been kind and encouraging and excited for us and willing to talk me down off a wall. How did I get so lucky to have so many beautiful people in my life? *wipes away sappy tears of gratitude*

Next stop: China

The gchat came as I was in the middle of a particularly grueling meeting at work.

John: When do you want to go to China?! [Date 1] or [Date 2]?

Me: OMG OMG OMG WHAT?!

John: Travel Approval came today!

You all. We are going to meet Beatrix Nan Yu in a month.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

(Needless to say, it was really, really hard to pay attention to the remaining 90 minutes of that meeting.)

 

In possibly related news, I am freaking right the hell out. 

Yes, I am incredibly excited and cannot wait. But when I take a step back and think about all of the stuff that needs to be done before we go (work, class, life, travel prep)... WHOA. Wish me luck (and a clone). I think I'm going to need it.

 

 

Care packages

So much has happened over the last 7 weeks; I can hardly believe we've only known about Nan Yu this long because it feels like she's always been part of our family (even if she isn't even here yet).

We've gotten our official approval from China (weeks and weeks earlier than anyone thought), picked a Western name to add to her Chinese name, filled out endless immigration and travel paperwork, and gotten our visas. We've turned the house upside down in what has to be some bizarre nesting phase -- the AmVets have kindly hauled off embarrassing numbers giant bags and boxes as we sorted and purged the basement, playroom, third floor, and Miss O's room. (Remember that previous post about certain people in this house never throwing anything away? Also, I'd been saving all kinds of things because we didn't know how old this child was going to be. It was bittersweet relief to donate a lot of the infant/early toddler items we'd held onto.)

We've gotten updated pictures and information (twice!) and learned that she's now in a foster home. She looks happy and healthy and more than a little fiesty.

But the best part? We've been able to send her care packages. We sent the first one in December and because we wanted it to get there quickly, we used a wonderful woman who lives in China -- she did all the shopping, assembly, and delivery for us. (Note: Best. Business. Idea. Ever.) We told her what we wanted to include and she made it happen. She took pictures of it to show us, then took pictures of our daughter when she delivered it. 

We were able to send pictures that she placed into an album and labeled in Mandarin, so Nan Yu will know what the heck she's looking at. Genius, that woman. We asked her to include a puzzle and a book, as well as some treats for the foster family.

Part of her service includes translating a letter to the child (and her foster family or SWI nannies), which of course meant we had to write one. That was surprisingly difficult -- what do you say to a 2.5 year old child who really has no idea what's about to happen to her? How do you explain who you are, and why she's suddenly going to come live with you, and why you're sending her all these pictures and toys? I admit that I cried when I was trying to compose the letter, and then I cried again when I added the bit that Miss O wrote to her. You all, she's going to make a great big sister...

We've almost finished putting together a second care package, which can be only the size of a small shoe box. We've stuffed in a coloring book and crayons, a copy of Pat The Bunny, some treats for her and the foster family, more pictures (including ones of the house, the playroom, and her soon-to-be room), and Miss O's own contribution: An extraordinarily soft yellow duckling. She initially wanted to send one of her own stuffed animals, but then came up with an even better plan. "Mom, I have a great idea! We can get two of the same stuffed animals and take a picture of me with them, and then we can send one animal to her. I'll write a note and tell her to bring it when we meet her, and I'll bring mine. That way she can recognize us and not be sad!" Sweet kid, and smart -- she knows how to manipulate me into buying more stuff for her. 

In the meantime, Nan Yu has also gotten a care package from her Grammie. I expect none of you will be surprised to learn it contained monogrammed stuff. :)

It's unreal to think that we'll meet her in a few short months...