What a day! (story)

I never got back to the computer yesterday to record some of that crazy story from January 2010.

Oh man.  If I tried even to summarize the story, I'd never finish.  So I'll just pick one tiny bit.

By a slew of miracles & tons of help from friends/family, I made it to the correct city where G had been flown from Haiti.  He was in a government children's home.  I needed to get there and prove my relationship to him.  I was told that I'd be able to visit him for the days it would take them to process our paperwork.

The info said that I could arrive at 10:00. 

I decided to aim for 9:30.

Can you imagine the emotions as I drove onto their property?  My rental car traveling the path that had brought my little son to the very same place?  Knowing that somewhere, in one of their little houses, strangers were keeping my baby?

I parked & went inside.  The lady who greeted me was a polished professional.  Super perky, she chirped: "So, you're a prospective adoptive parent?"

I growled my reply: "I'm a mother."

She faltered, but recovered: "Let me get your paperwork started right away...."

How gracious.  And she did.

As she started asking me for information - my 2006 tax figure, my mortgage account number, the length of my big toe - it became apparent that I had already scanned/emailed everything she wanted.  Notarized.  In triplicate.

I could not restrain my curt replies.  These government strangers, to whom I'd proved myself 10,000 times over 3 years, were holding my baby.

Again gracious, the lady asked: "Would you like me to have them bring G for a visit now?"


Yes.


She went to ask that G be brought over.  5 hours passed.  Finally I asked another lady about the wait.  She explained that G would have to be gotten ready and bussed over; that they would bring him asap; that it had only been 15 minutes.  Oh.

I waited another 5 hours.  Possibly exaggerating.  Finally I had to ask the lady again.  She turned to grab her phone, and.... there he was.

Alive.

In my arms.

Alive.

Lindsay had brought him over.  Lindsay, who is amazing with the children from our orphanage - tender & loving.  G had not been left to strangers because Lindsay had stayed with him.  She was still with him after days spent nonstop in Haiti at the Embassy.  She was so beautiful to me.

And G was in my arms.

I realized that the government lady had been asking me for 5 hours to report to her.  We were needed for photographs.

Our "visit" began.

And moments later, it was over.  We were cleared to leave.  Really?  Really!

My travel agent sister insisted: "Don't you just want to get a hotel?  You're exhausted.  Rest."

Oh no.  I was ready to be HOME.  She found me a same-day flight.

Driving to the airport - terrified - such precious cargo in the back seat.

Walking through the airport - exhilerated - as everyone commented on my handsome son.

Heart bursting as I got to introduce my tired G to his family.

And bursting again as I watched him sleep.  At home.

What a day.

What a year.

What a day! (photos)

One year ago today, G finally arrived home!

He's done a bit of growing this year....

School Projects

Both of my sons brought home artwork from school.

How sweet.

Um.  From Joseph we have a sculpture of a decapitated eyeball-less screaming head.  On an unusual pedestal.

And from G we have some exquisite cutting/pasting of a decapitated gingerbread man.

Please don't psycho-analyze my family.  We're fine.  Really.

"Headless but creative."  That's us.



Transition

As G's struggles at day care have escalated, I've been invited by them to look for a different situation for him.

At the same time, he is having the best week he's had in a long time.  Every morning, he asserts: "Me no biting school, Mama."  When we pray, he asks us to pray for school.  When I pick him up, he rushes at me to say: "I no biting, Mama!"  When we get ready for his morning school, he asks "I go other school please Mama?"

It's as if he fears that he's going to lose his school because of his behavior.

He is going to lose his school because of his behavior.

I feel really sad for him.

I'm looking for a great new option asap.  It's tough because the new option will need to include picking G up from morning school and watching him until evening every day.  For what I can afford to pay.  Doesn't sound like the greatest gig, does it?  But I need someone who thinks it's a precious opportunity.

Wouldn't mind having your prayers.

Toddler vs Teen

(A post for my healthy friends to skip)

Breakfast remains G's most challenging meal of the day.

By "challenging" I mean he is highly likely to refuse whatever is offered to him.

I have tried every possible option.

Except for Haitian spaghetti.  Which I do recall eating for breakfast in Haiti - with hotdogs, of course.  Perhaps I need to whip up a batch of Haiti-hotdog-breakfast-spaghetti soon.

Before I rose to that level, I decided to go American:

Milk & cereal bars.  Totally healthy, right?

G was VERY taken with the package.  He wanted to eat it right away. 

As it was bedtime, I said No.

He expressed concern that Joseph would eat it.

I assured him that Joseph would not.

We went back & forth a couple of times.

"But Jajesh eat it."

"Don't worry.  Joseph will not eat your bar."

Finally, G seized upon a solution.  He went and got paper & pencil and thrust them at me. 

"You write it.  A note Jajesh, Mama."

He dictated:

(Joseph, Don't put it away.  Stop Joseph.  Please not eating it.  G)

We got to put G to bed, secure in the knowledge that his bar was safe.

When I came out from the bedtime routine, I was greeted with:

Seriously!

Teen boys!  Did G call that or what?

Fortunately, we had the whole rest of the box available for G.

Unfortunately, G declined to eat it for breakfast today.

Anyone have a good recipe for breakfast spaghetti?





Where We're At

Blogging did not used to be a problem for me.  Lately I don't know what to write.

G's day care is run by a principal.  I have mentioned her before.

The principal reports to a Regional Director.  I like & respect this woman.  Her daughter was in G's class and really favored him.  Thank goodness.

The Regional Director reports to someone else - the Superior Top Director?  The STD (now there's a laugh) is a rather intimidating woman.  Gray hair perfectly styled at all times.  Enunciating clear complete sentences.  Properly citing facility regulations.  Ensuring that the job is done and everyone stays in line.

The STD was in charge at G's school today.

Joseph never tried to bite a Superior Top Director.

I don't know what to write any more.

Thankfully, G remains extraordinarily adorable.  To me.  Possibly not to the STD.

He is very into "I do it!"  I'm wondering if it's possible for a 4-year-old to have the "terrible twos?"  And how long those last at age four? 

Tonight at the grocery store, G bagged our groceries because "I do it!" and because the cashier thought he was extraordinarily adorable.

If she only knew.

Hiding

Recently at bedtime our doctor-friend stopped by to pick up some of those medicines for Haiti.  I had told G that Dr. K was coming.  When she arrived, G had disappeared.

This was VERY STRANGE.

I don't talk about this often, but G is extraordinarily clingy.  No matter what I am doing or where I am going, he is there.  All day I hear: "I wanna wit tchoo" or "I wanna by you."  Translated, these phrases mean "I wanna go with you wherever you are, no matter how trivial or personal the place" or "I wanna have my chair physically pressed up and touching your chair because I have to be right by you." 

So when I opened the front door and G was not "wit me" I was totally puzzled & a little concerned.

I left the doctor and went to look for him.

His bedroom door was pushed almost closed.

I opened it and looked in.

Imagine G, dressed for bed in his little sleeper.  He was crouched on the floor with his head tucked under the bed, "hiding."

I don't know where this fear of doctors/dentists is coming from, but he's got it bad.

Here's a photo from a few weeks ago, so you can enjoy G's hiding strategy.  It's not a cute as the crouched-half-under-the-bed experience, but it will give you the concept.

Practically invisible, eh?

Jubilee y'all

My life has been rich in variety lately.


Thursday – Dunkin Donuts coffee
Friday – Starbucks coffee
Saturday – Brunch party coffee
Sunday – Church coffee
Monday – Caramel macchiato
Tuesday – Campfire mocha
Wednesday –Cinnamon dolce latte
Thursday – Vanilla latte


I love it all.


32 days of Jubilee still ahead. Will I run out of beverages? Will I upgrade to medium size? Will I upgrade to carafe size?  Will I go broke?  Stay tuned.

 

One Little Word

Rustle Rustle. 

Rattle. 

Clatter! 

Crash! 

(pause)

"Iz ok Mama.  I no break it yet."

It's the "yet" that gets me.

Reasons I loved Target tonight

G didn't nap at school today. 

This led to a less-than-enjoyable evening.

After school, I HAD to take him to Target to pick up his prescription.  A 10 minute drive.  During which he screamed for 9 1/2 minutes: "I NO WANNA GO TARGET!"  The last 30 seconds of the drive he konked out and fell into a deep sleep.

Which I had to wake him from.

Instead of carrying him into the store, I noticed a cart nearby (reason #1 why I loved Target tonight), and I decided to quickly swing him into it.  Best decision ever - as I noticed a certain wetness on my hand after plopping him in.  A wetness that had soaked through his pants.  But at least did not end up on me.

I immediately thought of the next youngster who would be plopped into this cart.  And his poor innocent mom.  Who probably left her Dunkin Donuts cup at the post office for my child to drink from, but STILL I do not wish her harm.  And I remembered that Target has sanitizing cart wipes by the entrance (reason #2 why I loved Target tonight).  Returning good for evil, that's me.

Because I went ahead and took G shopping.  Yep, with wet pants.  And, as I have mentioned, we do garner a bit of attention when we're out.  But the gawkers couldn't actually SEE the pants.  And I had gone through a lot of trouble to get there.  And I needed G's prescription.

You may have gathered by now that G is a little bit unpredictable.  Not much in the way of filters.  So I'm pushing G through the store and praying: God, please don't let G shout out something about having wet pants, pleeeeeze.  I'm sure I appeared perfectly natural as we navigated the store... my smile plastered in place, pushing the cart as fast as humanly possible, looking totally innocent, terrified that I was about to experience the Scene to end all Scenes.

I zipped over to the pharmacy section, cut across the lane, turned to get to the counter... and encountered two guys waiting in line.  I had never experienced a line here before.  That is one of the reasons I love Target.  But not tonight.  Still in my "innocent frantic mom" mode, I asked the guys: "Are you in line?"

I have already explained that they were clearly waiting in line.  They looked and there was an awkward pause.  I filled in: "I mean, obviously you are in line." 

One guy decides to rescue me: "Well, we could've just been standing here.  This is a nice aisle after all."

Guy #2 helps out: "Yeah, we've got analgesics, ointments, lots of great stuff right here."

(Friendly co-shoppers.  Reason #3 for loving Target.)

Gratefully, I jump in: "Yeah, I really should spend more time in this aisle myself."  Nervously mindful that I have engaged people in conversation while pushing my unpredictable sitting-in-potty-pants child.

Guy #1 looks at G: "Hey Buddy.  What's your name?"

(Me, silently: Oh no; oh no; pleeeeeeze.)

G: Silent.  Gives Guy a blank look of distaste.

(Me, hopefully: Hooray; he's doing his unresponsive thing)

Guy #1 becomes too friendly, thus threatening Target reason #3: "Buddy, what's your name?"

G: Pointing at Guy #2: "Yo bottom."

(Me: ohmygoodness ohmygoodness  He did NOT just point to the guy's rear end and proclaim: "Your bottom!"  What?!?!  Thank GOODNESS for his speech issues.  Thank GOODNESS that was unintelligible!) 

Guy #1: "Uh?  My bottom?"

(Me: stunned.  Where do I go?  What do I say?  I check out the guy's rear.  It is a nice bottom.  Although I hope my son wasn't noticing that.  I try to think of a witty joke about the guy's bottom.  Wittiness escapes me.  I have nothing.  I say nothing.  I am frozen.)

Guy #1 is frozen.  He slowly swivels back around.  He moves unnecessarily forward in line and slightly around a corner.

He does not make eye contact again.

We get our prescription, get out to the car, and sanitize the cart.  We have survived.

And for that, I loved Target tonight.

Wired

January 12th 2010 was a regular day.  I went to work.  I consumed large volumes of coffee.  I had an event to attend after work.

And then Haiti shook.

January 13th was not a regular day.  Searching, praying, networking, waiting.  Life took on a desperation.  And there was no time for coffee.  Tension increased.  Sleeping ceased.  The praying turned to praying & fasting.  And I could not indulge in coffee.

Somewhere along the line, I figured out how much money I spend on coffee each year.  Knowing what people in Haiti were enduring, I could not continue to spend that money.  I decided to fast from coffee for a year... and save that money for Haiti... and be reminded to pray for Haiti whenever a coffee craving hit me.

For a Coffee Lover, this has made for an interesting year.

In these last weeks, I've debated what to do when my year was up.  It has felt right to make this tiny sacrifice.  I have prayed more than I would have otherwise.  I have more money to give.  I'm so glad to know the money will change lives rather than enrich Starbuck$.

But what to do now?

I love coffee.  I love being awake.  I love cradling a warm cup on an Arctic morning.

And then the decision came to me.

JUBILEE.  I will have a COFFEE JUBILEE.  40 seems to be a spiritual number.  I will have a 40 day all-out coffee-bonanza Jubilee!

Starting January 13th.

Which was today.

Oh, how I love coffee.

Only 39 more days to go.  If you live near me, this would be a great time to suggest going for a coffee date.  If you live elsewhere, please fly in.  I'd love to do coffee with you too.  Coffee Coffee, nothing but coffee.  Jubilee, y'all!


p.s. If you live near me, you might want to mark your calendars now.  "February 22: Avoid Heidi!"

Anniversary of Haiti's Earthquake

One year ago, I begged God to save my son and bring him home.

And God did it.

"The LORD reigns forever,

your God, O Zion, for all generations.

Praise the LORD."

Psalm 146:10

Today would be a great day to take a minute and pray for Haitian people.  So many need rescue.  And God can do it.

Still here

Joseph is frantically writing term papers this week, which means that I'm having trouble scoring computer time.

But I had to let you know.

JOSEPH never bit his school principal.

I'm just sayin'.

THE Most Disgusting Thing Ever happened today

G & I were at the post office.  You know, just mailing the first of our Christmas letters.  No comments please.

I was busy working the automated postage thing (which should definitely be nominated as one of the most brilliant inventions ever! love that thing).

Every few seconds, I was looking over to monitor G.  He was just hanging out with me.. until the final time I looked over and saw him drinking from a Dunkin Donuts coffee cup that was not ours!

Just thinking about it makes me want to gargle antiseptic.

Technically, I'm sure that you could've survived without me sharing the story, but somehow I feel better knowing that I'm not alone in being disgusted.

((Look at that.  I just happened to have the perfect accompanying photo on hand.  And G really is wearing that same sweatshirt today.  The sweatshirt of doom, apparently.))

Chuh-bah-tuh

Hi.  Sorry for my absence.  G has been having some ..challenges.  As in, "When the 4-year-old stays awake until 10:30 pm two nights in a row, it results in ..challenges."

But Joseph & I had a blog-worthy experience this morning.

I think I mentioned that he & I have the best-ever tradition.  Whenever his school has a late-start day, then I use an hour of vacation time and take him out for coffee.  He thinks it's great to bypass taking the bus and get some yummy coffee.  I think it's a brilliant way to trick my teenager into spending some time with me. 

Late-start coffee was at Panera today.  The nice thing about Panera is that besides coffee, one can also get a breakfast sandwich.  Joseph ordered an Egg & Cheese Ciabatta.  I noticed that he seemed to have pronounced Ciabatta incorrectly.  I wanted him to learn the correct pronounciation, but of course I didn't want to embarrass/correct him, so I simply asked the cashier how the name of the bread was pronounced.

Cashier: What?
Me (repeating): How do you pronounce the name of that bread?
Cashier: What?
Me (louder): That bread he just ordered - how is it pronounced?
Deaf cashier: What, Honey?  I can't hear you!
Me (regretting my decision): I JUST WANTED TO KNOW HOW TO SAY THE NAME OF THAT BREAD.
Deaf Cashier: YOU WANT SOME OF THIS BREAD OVER HERE? (grabbing a random loaf of oatbran from behind her, while the line builds behind me)

Suddenly, the event took on an other-worldly feel.  In rapid succession, the following happened...

To my left, the Barista couldn't take it any longer.  She started shouting over to me: "CIABATTA!  THE BREAD IS CALLED CIABATTA!"

To my right, a man joined in.  So close to me that he was practically sitting on my shoulder.  My Italian shoulder angel: "CIABATTA!  LIKE CIAO WITHOUT THE O!  LIKE 'CIAO BELLA!"

Deaf cashier caught on (somewhat).  She piped in: "YEAH - CIABATTA - PRONOUNCED JUST LIKE IT LOOKS!"  (huh?!?)

Throughout this exchange, no one seemed to be annoyed at the random waste of time.  Everyone was just excited to jump in with their Ciabatta insights.  Honestly, I would not have been surprised if a Ciabatta Flash Mob had broken out.  Very strange.

Later, as we were leaving, Joseph pointed out a gawker.  Sure enough, the woman found us so interesting that she did a full-body swivel to watch us walk by.  Joseph shook his head, "Poor woman.  We could've really made her day if only G was with us."

Good times at Panera.