Whither Thou Creative Spirit

Moving Right Along

2008-04-29T11:09:00.000-07:00

We are scheduled to have our social worker visit later this week. Our home study agency has been very solicitous, especially after they found out about our deadline. They told our SW to get on it by a certain date or they would do it themselves. I still had to email several days later that I had not heard anything yet from our SW, but if that's what it takes, okay. I know SWs are overworked anyway, so I was nice about it. And now we have our appointment and then our update should be right along.

Now all we have to do is track down all the little details in the home study that will have to be changed, e.g. any new addresses and all ages of various people. My work status has changed--I have started working part time--but they say that they can address that in our update with a couple of sentences. But it's all picky little details to update, nothing major.

* * * * *
We are noticing the stress of the uncertain state of IA on all related agencies. Our home study agency is fairly small and personal. I know they have been feeling the slowdown--the adoptions programs of two of their main countries have been closed down or slowed to a crawl. They've been sending out fund-raising letters and informational documents to keep their clients informed. They have even laid off several people in the last month, which is really too bad. And they were so small to begin with that it sounds like they are down to the bare bones of the staff now.

Despite fundraising letters, I am not inclined to send them *more* money. Still, I can appreciate their uncertain position, so when we accidentally overpaid on our latest update, we had them hold that as credit for future updates rather than send the $400 back. As M says, we can afford it even if it's not ideal.

It's also a possibility that if they don't weather this slowdown that they may go under within the next few years... neccessitating our REDOing our home study with another agency (ack!). So yeah, we thought it was a "good faith" thing to to do to have them hold our overpayment while they are cash-poor.

* * * * *
Hey, I told a few more people about this adoption thing recently.

One was a college friend with whom I have started writing to more frequently. We live in different countries, so we see each other only rarely (it's been years now), but we are good about writing. I am also friends with her husband and like hearing about their kids and their lives. It's been really fun to renew a regular correspondence.

Since we've been sharing more of our lives recently, I was telling her some of our IF and IA stuff, and a couple of months ago, I finally sent her a big long saga of the adoption proceedings and the slowdown and all those frustrations. She sent me a very encouraging, sensitive and supportive response, which really touched my heart. I was also relieved that she was as gentle as I had hoped when I took the gamble of sharing more. I guess sometimes it's not just the sharing but the response that makes it worthwhile. I know she has had some hard times along the way, so she's not innocent of how things that can go wrong. It's just the stuff of life, isn't it?

I also recently ran into people we know who had just recently brought their daughter home from China! They had been in that massive LID that took 6 months to place, waiting about 2.5 years or so. We live on opposite sides of the state and of course, we had had no idea that they had been in the same process that we were in until we saw them with their daughter and guessed the situation. I didn't leap at them immediately... haha! But later when I remarked that her LID must have been in Dec of 05, she knew we were in the same boat, on the road to China!

It was really wonderful to see them with their daughter. It was also a pleasant surprise to know someone in real life who had undergone so many of the same challenges and understood what we are going through! It was very moving to me to see them as a family. It also, silly as it sounds, gave me concrete hope that we would be parents someday. I know how people like to say that you forget the wait after you have your children, but it's not much comfort when we still have *years* of waiting ahead of us, so this was a concrete example: someday that will be us.

It was great to talk and share/commiserate a little with each other. It sounds like we have a new connection--yea! :) And their daughter was such an engaging cutie. I really loved watching them interact, like when she and her Dad would wave at each other from a distance, or taking her Mom by the finger and taking her to explore something or somebody. She would sometimes giggle or hand her shoes to other people... the kind of baby dearheart that people just gravitate to. I wasn't the only one who thought she was a dear!

I did try to say a few things in Mandarin depending on the context (hi there! oh,are you thirsty?), but it wasn't clear if she understood me! Sometimes the non-verbal works better at that age. I was tickled to recognize some signing going on. She reminded me of my youngest niece when she was just learning to interact and communicate. Anyway--it all felt happy to me. :)

* * * * *
These days I am more optimistic about learning Chinese again. I'm not optimistic about the *wait* at all, but as my friend said, I have all this time to practice my Chinese! Okay, okay, I'll give it another go.

* * * * *

Update Number One

2008-04-13T16:52:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't been around much recently.

Last month, we set about compiling a pile of paperwork to start the process of getting a homestudy update so we can reapply for the Citizen & Immigration Services 171h form via the I-600a.

When I saw the amount of things we would have to do just for an update, I was very grouchy and depressed.

Medical updates, financial updates, criminal record checks, and something about a "Responsible Individuals List" which seems to be an database tracking child molesters. And we had to fill out a new application (12 pages worth of info and legal agreements), although they have a wealth of detailed personal information about us already. Oh yes, and send them about $800 for the whole update.

It turns out that after the big push for our dossier, I have run out of *all* patience for *any* paperwork. I had just started to feel pretty good about being able to ignore the wait, and being reminded of the massive amount of paperwork *just to stay in line* shook me up. I felt exhausted just thinking about it, and here we had *another* stack to deal with.

M was just "eh, whatever." Lucky for him, I've been doing it (as usual, the paperwork falls onto me), but I haven't been cheerful about it. So I spent some time wailing and complaining and feeling glum at the aggravation ahead of us.

It took us more than a month to gather all this together and deliver it. Now we have to get an appointment with our social worker so we can have her visit and have her spend a couple of weeks writing it up and.... If I don't hear from them within the next couple of working days, I will call and bug them for a social worker appointment. It might have escaped their attention that we are working under a deadline.

Yes, our current 171h will expire in the middle of May. The federal agency has decided to lighten the financial burden for couples having to wait so long that they have to renew by waiving the *first* renewal if the application arrives before the old one expires. Notice that's the *first* one. With the wait extending 4-5+ years, we'll end up having to pay out a few more times anyway, but it would be nice to save a little bit of money, eh?

In any case, the thing weighing on my mind is that if for some reason we don't get the whole bigger application (incl. homestudy update) in to the CIS before the middle of May, we'll have to pay another $800+ for apply for renewal, not including the fingerprint renewal, which we'll have to pay for anyway. That's running about $80 a person. In the grand scheme of things, it's not really a big deal, but the thought of having to do this repeatedly.... *sigh*

So it would be nice if the social worker did not sit on her hands like she did the last time. I am dreading the possibility of having to Fed Ex our application overnight to try to make the freakin deadline. *sigh*

* * * * *
We still get the occasional question from friends or family about "How are things going with the adoption?" My answer is usually the same: "Well, our paperwork is still sitting there in China..."

I am making an effort to educate the people who need to know, for instance our doctor (who is shocked by the slowdown). To avoid misplaced pity or ideas, I try to be as straightforward and cheerfully matter of fact as I can. It doesn't help us to get dragged into someone else's emotion about it.

However, I was somewhat taken aback by my MIL's recent cheerful "So, how is the baby-making going?" Ahhaha... "Well, our paperwork is still sitting there in China..." I'm not sure what she was thinking... that we were adopting on a whim, or that we just hadn't "tried hard enough" to "make" "one of our own." *rolling my eyes* Well, she already has *grandchildren* popping out great-grand-babies, so it's not like she's heavily invested in our outcome. For most friends, they either know about the slowdown or they know nothing about our situation at all.

On a happier note, I am actually feeling overall, well, happy. Professionally and personally, I am forging ahead and doing interesting things. We are certainly not putting our lives on hold (anymore) while we wait to become parents. Definitely a good thing for our mental health.

Old Triggers

2008-02-05T21:16:00.000-08:00

Yep, it's another round of people who annoy me. :)

Okay, this time it's a relative who gets irate and worked up to near-hysteria about nearly anything once she's in the mood to. This is irritating because she is not even getting upset about a real thing, but being triggered by something that maybe only slightly resembles or reminds her of something that upsets her. Asking about the connection does not bring anything to closure... I get irritated by the conversation being dragged off in various directions based on these derailing tangents with no obvious connection.

So I have to open my big mouth and query this, this using any convenient trigger to go off on an anxious rant in a completely different direction, and how no one can get a word in edgewise meanwhile. But even this is an affront to the precious feeeeelinggggs. She is very, um, grouchy, to have to wonder why she is doing this so frequently. She feels severely attacked by my even questioning this. Oh, so then I am being the insensitive one... Oh well, maybe I am. I breathe slowly and will myself to delicately back off... (which is in itself an accomplishment)

So I think to myself that probably I have those kind of triggers too, that set me off on an emotional whirlwind although it is not the thing itself that is upsetting me, but the emotional reaction to being reminded of it... For me, it is something like a time when someone done me a deep personal wrong, or when I lost a friend through some tragedy. Or general worthless malaise. Yup, I can get dragged into it all over again.

So I relive my stuff, and this person also relives her stuff -- and it's driving me crazy because she's ratchetting up the fear at top volume, blotting out anything else "real" around her. I want to ask her, "Why do you do this to yourself??" And "Why do you rush headlong into a state that you clearly do not enjoy much?" Or I don't know--maybe she does get something out of it, maybe the rush of adrenaline.

It reminds me of someone I used to know who dealt with any and all difficult emotions by throwing herself into feeling each one to the point of deliberate exaggeration in an effort to "cleanse" herself of these "bad" emotions. As if she could purge herself of the emotions. She said that, too, she had to purge to get rid of it. Did this prevent her from further difficulties? No indeed. In fact, she only reinforced those emotions, wearing the emotional groove deeper and deeper every time she put herself into that state and milked it for all it was worth. Anger, pain, sorrow, spite... Afterwards, she was all worn out... and nevermind the effect of all this stuff on other people... I suspected she was addicted to the rush of anger and fury, at the very least, for the amount of satisfaction she seemed to get out of it.

Okay, so I am aware that emotions also have a physical affect on us, mostly chemical and cardiovascular, I think. We are reminded of something and our hearts beat faster, we start getting steamed or fearful or whatever our pattern... it's so easy to recall those strong feelings because we store them in physical memory. Maybe a similar physical state can trigger a memory too. My DH has told me stories about when he was doing yoga regularly that sometimes the poses would bring up strong emotions in him. Some deeply-buried emotion would come up and sweep over him. So apparently, that's not uncommon to have physical states trigger emotional ones. I'd be interested to learn more about any research done about this.

I have nothing against honoring our experiences and for that matter, our traumas. But we store so much stuff in our bodies as it is... why add to our burden? Why relive painful times so obsessively? I have to ask myself if there is a better way to soften that physical/emotional groove, that habit, and to lay down some new tracks. It would mean catching the event at or before the trigger point before the needle slips into the groove irretrievably, and learning ways of redirecting the reaction. Maybe even reconstructing the response itself.

* * * *
Okay, so here's my challenge:

Notice when I am reacting strongly to something.
Notice how it manifests, emotionally, physically, behaviorally, other.
Notice any images or old scenes it may bring up.
Listen for any internal voices playing old tapes.
Try to soothe, acknowledge, redirect...
Try to do something different physically to help unkink the old pattern?
Reflect on the apparent trigger point(s) for future reference.
Take notes and brainstorm a better plan for next time.
* * * *
Oh, this should be interesting. I'm still a little annoyed however. Maybe my sisters know all my trigger points? Maybe my family is one big trigger point waiting to happen! Oh, this should be *really* interesting!!

* * * *

small distractions

2008-02-01T13:51:00.000-08:00

* * *
D'ja ever have one of those days (or weeks or months) in which one does not feel very social?

I love visiting with friends. I love reading me some blogs. I even enjoy those networking thingies in moderation.

But sometimes I am too scattered, too tired, too obnoxiously un-focused to make coherent conversation or post a thoughtful post or comment. I run out of energy or attention to be much more than a goof.

So yeah, it would nice to continue that conversation, but I have to go and stare off into space for a while. Or immerse myself in something other than interaction.

I feel bad for getting into these non-socially-motivated moods, but maybe, hey, here's a thought: maybe that's just the way I am and I don't need to try to justify or apologize for it.

Like after certain big events when I need a LOT of down time to recover. Am I recovering from a high-social time? Hm?

Okay, I'll go explore that idea. I'll also entertain other people's ideas. I'm not restrictive, just distracted.
* * *

Happy Things Recently

2008-01-31T10:01:00.000-08:00

* * * *
Visiting and talking with *both* of my nieces. Although they are about 12-13 years apart in age, they are both such cute and endearing personalities. I love it when I get to see/talk to them and do little projects with them.

Accomplishing cleaning projects around the yard. (making a dent in the amount of wood to pick up)

Mint-filled Lindor truffles.

Snuggle cats.

Small but steady paid work.

A chatty letter from my sister--yea! (a real life paper letter!)

Vegetarian chili in winter--yummy and cozy

Conversation and snuggle time with M.

Taking yet more stuff to Goodwill.

New color inspirations for Spring.

Bird feeders in steady use.

Pushing myself to grow more in my endeavors--and not doing too badly at it.

Sweeping off the porch, catching up on laundry--even the small things are happy.

Noticing that I have become a better touch-typist than I thought (better than bad-hehe). Now to work on the spelling...(hah)

Suuuushiiii !!

* * * *

I wish you all happy things too. :)

family stress fractures

2008-01-30T11:33:00.000-08:00

Earlier this year, we heard that this couple we know--let's call them family friends--has been having a rough spot. It's been building up the last few years, but this last year has seen some open dissent. We only got one side of the story, but we were not in a position (or lacking enough tact) to go interviewing other impacted parties to get a bigger picture. And it's not as if we haven't already observed (as it turns out) critically important aspects for years. "Oh, that explains a lot..."

M and I are both a little concerned. No, a LOT concerned. We don't want to think that their marriage wouldn't survive, but this recent upheaval is pointing out all the stress fractures in the family. Mostly that some stresses have reached a critical point so that the different sides are acting out in their individual feelings of frustration and anger. It's one of the usual sticking points--job and time and money and identity and how one or the other is being controlling or over-managing every major decision or thought. I guess one can "manage" these issues for only so long before one has to really deal with them.

It's easy for me to say this or that person is dragging their heels, resisting like hell, trying to blow or keep the lid on. Maybe you never want to think of yourself as ever getting a divorce, but there's still stuff to deal with... better to deal with it than having it blow up in your face. Defusing a b0mb is a delicate and dedicated task no doubt, no less than defusing the pressure in a marriage. *duck*!!

Mostly, though, I can see the impact on the kids. Angry, anxious, afraid. I really worry about them. This last time on the phone, it was ... interesting, the older kids were holding themselves at a distance emotionally and younger kids especially were bickering and nattering anxiously (in contrast with their usual delight when we call or visit). And certain adults didn't even come to the phone to say hi. Aaargh. The whole scrim of polite social interaction was pretty thin. It was a little disconcerting, but I was reminded again --they are ALL stressed.

So I worry about all of them. I worry about the couple.... I can see the fault lines, but even if I see some things they are doing that make it harder on their relationship, I am not in a position to tell them so. Thank goodness for counseling. Hope it's doing some good, but I'm not sure. If the kids are the canaries in a coal mine, things are still pretty tense.

So I worry about the kids too. How hard to be so young at these various ages and have the security of your parents be so uncertain. I've never seen them so... disaffected is the word that comes to mind, but how can that even make sense if they are actually so *highly* affected?

We try to be good relations in their lives. We talk and play with them, snuggle when we are there in person.... We try to be another set of adults who take a positive interest in them, who have known them since they were babies, who cheer them on. These days I see them having some disappointments with their parents that are threatening to be life-long. It pains me that I was not more sympathetic the last time the one kiddo brought it up (trying to explain it away rather than saying "that must have been very disappointing"). It was awkward... as if the one thing that may or may not have been his Dad's fault was standing in for all the other ways he's feeling let down.

*sigh*

I know, I know. every couple has their sticking points, their "rough patch." The kids are just so vulnerable at that age, at any age. So, I worry.

House Meme AKA I can't resist a meme

2008-01-27T18:10:00.000-08:00

I’m continuing the tradition and stealing this meme from various bloggers I read.

* * * *

When you walk in your front door, which room do you enter?
The living room.

Do you have a dishwasher?
That would be me. Sometimes my husband. Otherwise, no.

Is your living room carpeted or does it have hardwood floors?
Hardwood floors. Easy to sweep down.

Do you keep your kitchen knives on the counter or in a drawer?
They’re all in a drawer.

House, apartment, duplex or trailer?
House.

How many bedrooms is it?
Three.

Gas stove or electric?
Gas.

Do you have a yard?
Yes. More than we can take care of.

What size TV is in the living room?
Don't have one.

Are your plates in the same cupboard as your cups?
No.

Is there a coffee maker sitting on your kitchen counter?
No.

What room is your computer in?
All of them are in the office.

Are there pictures hanging in your living room?
Yes, a bunch. Seven pics of family groupings, both formal and casual. A wedding photograph. Two art prints. A pencil and ink landscape. An abstract photographic print. A relief print I made years ago. Oh, plus a small mirror and another small collage-print by an artist friend. Oh, and a landscape pastel too! I know a number of artists and have a bought good stuff over the years. That's just the living room. Oh, and a very small drawing by a semi-famous great uncle.

Are there any themes found in your home?
Cozy eclectic with touches of antique farm chic. Nature-related stuff, especially landscapes of various sorts. Excellent contemporary pottery and art. The office is done in contemporary paper-clutter.

What kind of laundry detergent do you use?
I think it's Seventh Generation or some non-scented stuff. Our washer is super efficient so we use miniscule amounts of detergent. One jug lasts us the better part of a year.

Do you use dryer sheets?
No, never.

Curtains in your home?
Nope. Except one thrown over the front door windows. It suffices.

What color is your fridge?
White.

Is your house clean?
Har har. No. Well, some of it is.

What room is the most neglected?
I'd have to go with the entire yard! The basement runs second.

Are the dishes in your sink/dishwasher clean or dirty?
Dirty at the moment.

How long have you lived in your home?
About 8 years.

Where did you live before?
Rented in both a house and an apartment.

Do you have one of those fluffy toilet lid covers on your toilet?
Ack, no.

Do you have a scale anywhere in your house?
In the bathroom.

How many mirrors are in your house?
Six. One full-length one on the basement door (good for feng shui purposes), one on the bathroom cabinet, one kitschy one in the bedroom, and a little bitty one with a carved clay frame by a potter friend (art around a mirror). Also a hand held mirror that's double-sided in the bathroom cabinet, and a very large mirror panel in the basement from when I did self-portraits an age ago. Seven if you include the little safety mirror reflector we take backpacking in case we have to signal the rescue planes.

Look up. What do you see?
A very white ceiling. With one corner peeling from moisture.

Do you have a garage?
No, just a big ol' gravel driveway.

* * * *
That'll do for now.

Getting Back On the Bike to Do Scales

2008-01-24T17:38:00.000-08:00

* * * *
Last weekend was the busy sort in which I had endured a lot of preparation and sweat to get myself into the proper zone, then poured ALL of myself into each event (thereby leading to grand success, but wait...), then collapsed exhausted in a pool of post-performance reflection. What a charge! I love it, but then, yes, I had to spend some time recovering... It was a little unusual to have two back-to-back. Two very different crowds. But anyway, I have been coasting the rest of the week. Sunday, I don't think I even got dressed-how sad is that? Each day I say, hmm, what do I need to prepare for tomorrow? So I've not been working ahead of schedule as I prefer. I suddenly realize that I have several projects that haven't gotten as far as I had hoped by the end of this month. Ach, darn.

I know it's a cycle. To expend so much energy for a big burst, and then crash to replenish, but I still have things to maintain on a daily basis. Yesterday I finally started picking up around the house again, cleared out the hallway and took that load of stuff over to goodwill, washed various things, cooked dinner, looked at (but didn't work on) upcoming projects, etc.

YUP, I have to get back on the bike and start pedaling, even when the rest of me is saying "huh?" Yes, "Do Your Scales And Persevere." I usually think of this as referring to creating art as an artist, but these days it's as much about keeping the ball rolling (or in the air) in the rest of my life. For god's sake, Don't Drop The Ball! :D It's very useful, this getting back on the bike to do scales. (Can I mix metaphors or what?!)

On the creative work side of things, it's useful to cultivate improv skills. Even today, I was supposed to meet someone for the first time and had received minimal info to go on. NO idea of their existing skill level or interests or goals, only age and gender. I prepared like crazy... then hours later thought (just before bed), yes, but what if they are a total beginner? ...And prepared some back-up plans for if I had to wing it. But then, I always end up winging it because you just don't know your student or your crowd until you actually meet them and work with them a little. So today was another opportunity to use some of what I had planned, but in different ways... and that's actually ideal! Adapt to the circumstance and ride with it! I get a charge out of that as well, and lots of ideas for my next plan.

Can a body and psyche adapt to adrenaline? I think so. It can be nerve-wracking in the beginning. Prepare, prepare and OMG what if I completely screw up and it all falls on the floor and urrrr--I look like an ass? And then one learns to think on ones feet: plan, adapt, change, observe, adapt... Then it becomes a dance, a work of mutual art of mutual benefit.

The first time, after the roller coaster ride is over, one is completely wired for a long time, and it fades very slowly, leaving one drained. I'm sure there are medical terms to describe how this impacts the adrenals (or in some kind of impact loop). Then as one gains experience and confidence and strategies for all those times one has to--quickly!--adapt, it becomes like riding the waves--still exhilarating, but more of a dance between yourself and the others that you are guiding and coaxing. It *is* like dancing. Somebody is nominally in charge, but ever-alert for shifts in the air, the need for micro-changes in direction and intensity, the plan held clearly but lightly... And the highs and the lows moderate just a bit.

Ah. Pause to replenish. Time to do some more scales.
* * * *

"tiny cupcakes served continuously"

2008-01-22T13:51:00.000-08:00

I ran across Nicole Hollander's book recently and have been having a hoot reading it. It's titled: Tales of Graceful Aging from the Planet of Denial. It's not a cartoon book, although there are a few illustrations.

It's loosely gathered into chapters named things like:

Tiny vices
Raking over the Past
The Afterlife I deserve
Disastrous Apparel Decisions
If 60 is the new 40, when will I be 30?
My Coffee is not up to my standards

...And subdivided further into little stories with titles like:

The girlfriends have an emergency meeting
Compensations
Doctor, can I put this on my VISA?
The road not taken... was it a stairway to Heaven or a blind alley?
Things I will never do
Certain things, though, it's too late to do
Second thoughts
Fooling around with the French
Men who dance
My memoir, a.k.a., Everyone has one memoir in them, why not do it now?
Every memoir I've read has a section on lost loves
Medical disappointments
Think of your body as an old beloved car, perhaps a foreign car, one of those cute MGs that was always in the shop
Daily expressions of gratitude; the tomato bisque of the soul

Keehee! I love this!

The book jacket describes the experience of reading the book as being "like Nicole's idea of heaven: tiny cupcakes served continuously." This reminds me that I have a small package of petite fours hiding in the back of the fridge since Christmas. Yum. Best eaten frequently, in small, entertaining doses.

* * *
The section on Reminicing about the good old days starts out:

Normally I detest this kind of thing.
and:
You know another thing I hate is when women say, "But I'm the same inside." Well, too bad honey, toughen up.

This reminds me that while I am certainly aging on the outside (slowly, subtly), I have aged pretty well on the inside. I CAN'T say that I'm the same inside. Sure, there may be core characteristics, but on the whole, I've changed a lot since I was a young thing, even since college (which was what? half my life ago?). And it's only continuing. I like it. Wouldn't want to go back. And give up everything I've learned in the last 5-10-20-30-some years? Heck, no!

I'm more patient at least to the degree I recognize that I can't change another person or hurry them along. I am less tolerant when it comes to people acting badly, whether it's spouting prejudice or aspiring to superiority, especially at my expense. That quote by Eleanor Roosevelt about someone not being able to make you feel inferior without your consent? It's true.

I actually find myself *less* tolerant of what I consider idiocy. I've developed strong ideas of what is right and good. I still have the ability to see both sides of every argument, but I'm less willing to give somebody a pass for stupidity, more wiling to question. I am less likely to (attempt to) do somebody's emotional work for them (thank goodness!!).

I am more likely to try what I want and not be deterred by being less than perfect on the first try. I have come to recognize perfectionism as a barrier. I am more patient with myself when I get caught in an old pattern and can talk reasonably to myself even while I emote all over the place. I have learned to not waste too much time on other people's trying to define me on their terms. I have learned that, when necessary, I can embarrass people more than they can embarrass me.

I have learned that it doesn't matter if ones life partner is not perfect in the ways that one had hoped or imagined because they are still themselves and have a right to be themselves. Besides, they being themselves is rather endearing even if occasionally maddening. I've learned that it doesn't matter if I get my way or not, if things are not done the way I prefer them done. it doesn't matter if others are less than perfect. I am less fazed by wild energy from students--hehe. I guess I have learned to persevere, not give up too soon.

There are things about aging that I am dismayed over, but I am not willing to go through pain to do anything about them (pluck, tuck). I have learned that I am tougher than I ever suspected. I have learned that it's often better to ignore a lot of crap rather than become irritated by it. I have dignity under fire (and sometimes not).

On a number of other things, I have a ways to go. But hey, that's what the next few decades are for.

* * *

I DO reminisce about the good old days, or at least about the old days. But I have hope that I will continue to mature into somebody I am proud of. I don't aspire to be "cool," because alas I am hopelessly enthusiastic and wonder-struck about life and don't anticipate ever shedding that un-cool attitude. Too bad for me. *smirk*

I do aspire to be the vivacious older woman. Ms. Hollander is a good role model for that, although I am not as biting as she can be in real life. Me in real life, I mean. I could aspire to sharp wit and innovative coping techniques. Or her "smarts and unabashed lip" that one reviewer describes. One of my aunts is also a good role model, except for the part about being a little crazy, by which I mean delusional, but she still has her emphatic enthusiasm, and that's me all over. I have a number of role models, maybe a topic for another post. Maybe I could adopt Nicole as an aunt meanwhile. Or maybe as a fairy-godmother.

* * *

A short list of consequences of reading Nicole Hollander:

I start having visions of myself as an older woman. Whoo-hoo!
I am heartened and entertained by the many gems and turns of phrase that strike me as a polished piece of humorous truth.
I start writing/thinking like a wry, wise-cracking, elder feminist from Chicago.
My husband spontaneously uses descriptions such as "cats with special powers."

* * *
I now return you to everyday life.

writing therapy on mortality

2008-01-22T12:55:00.000-08:00

Well now, THAT was therapeutic! Really it was. Snark aside, it was helpful to me to write that out and see some of the patterns. Helpful for me to even read it later. Helpful of me to articulate perspective. Helpful for me to be helpful to my friend, and good luck to them, too.

One more memory rises to the surface...

* * * *
Scene One:

TW: (Morosely, sighingly) Oy! Oh, I hope *you* never have to experience this...
Me: Oh, honey. It must be so hard...

Scene Two: (a couple months later)

TW: (Morosely, sighingly) Oy! Oh, I hope *you* never have to experience this...
Me: (Again? Um, that sounds a little insincere.) Well, I'm sure I will someday. I have to realize that at some point in our lives, one of us will die and leave the other alone. It's sad, but it's inevitable. I just have to live my life the best I can until that time.
TW: ... !!! (Huh? That wasn't what I wanted to hear! What is wrong with her, dammit? I'm the one who needs sympathy!) (doubtfully) Well, just I hope you don't have to suffer like I've suffered...

Scene Three: (several months later)

TW: I hope your husband dies! I hope you suffer like I've suffered! I hope all your children die!
Me: !!! (Okay, that tears it!) (profanity censored)

* * * *

Ironic that she tried to curse me with suffering a terrible loss because I am already all too aware of that inevitability. So here I am in my life, periodically being gripped by the fear that one day one of us will leave the other in death. That inevitable loss. Not because that person cursed me long ago, but because I am all too aware of how easily and quickly our loved ones can be taken from us.

Is it worse if I lose M or he loses me first? Either way is pretty bad. Pain and suffering and sorrow all around, no doubt about it. Then I have to shake myself and remind myself to live today. Today, even the mundane day, is pretty good. Loss is inevitable. So is renewal. Every day another day to live with love and wonder. I'll take as many years, days and minutes I've got.

* * * *

Toxic Echoes

2008-01-20T19:42:00.000-08:00

Sad and troubling story, here. Or a long and convoluted drama.

Just heard from a friend of mine we've known slightly (but for years). They wanted to talk to me about one of my former friends. Seems that they had a disturbing run-in with this person and wanted to talk about it.... I said, uh-huh? and let them know that yes, this person could act in unpredictable ways.

They then told me this story about how they had run into her the other day and how she had dumped a bunch of spurious, obsessional, dubious information on them concerning mental health drugs. Without getting into the sordid details, she is accusing certain doctors of nefarious deeds concerning said drugs. She has always been vehemently against any such drugs, even though some people close to her have been able to lead happy productive lives *only* through such drugs (or else they'd be dead or committed by now). Or as one friend likes to say, "better living through chemistry!"

This other friend of mine and their spouse have been so supportive of this woman over the years, through all sorts of trauma and trial. They are both very generous, big-hearted people. And they were a little taken aback (since they had also had family members and friends who, can we say, freaking *need* drugs to be sane), so the one friend tried to point out, very gently, this other perspective that, you know, such drugs can be literally life savers.

Well. She cut him off so fast--"don't start with me!" and left in a huff. Odd, yes? Well, not as odd as when they got home and found an email addressed to my friend's spouse but sent to my friend, accusing them of being rude and insensitive and maligning their character in the worst terms. She sent a poison letter ostensibly addressed to my friend's spouse to *them*?? Passive aggressive much?

So my friend, the big-hearted one, was understandably confused and wounded by this, wondering what they had done to receive such vitriol. And called me looking for perspective because they had heard that I and this other woman had had "a falling out" and there had been "incidences," and maybe I had a clue as to what was going on.

*pause to sigh*

What does one do with people who insist on making life toxic for themselves and others?

From my experience, I'd have to say: see it for what it is (don't sugar coat or minimize the damages) and then get far, far away.

Well, I was able to share some background of her seemingly irrational hatred of any and all mood-altering drugs, and her history of delusional and accusatory behavior.... And listened some more while my friend tried to explain what it felt like to be attacked.

Like me in my own version of this incident, they were very shaken and freaked out by this very personal attack. They felt very threatened and had a hard time sleeping, worrying what else she might throw at them. That's a scary thing to have to deal with.

I understood they were reaching out in an attempt to figure out the situation... so without getting into gossipy details, I tried to give them some perspective by sharing some of my own experiences and thoughts so they would understand that this woman's behavior was part of a pattern, no fault of theirs at all. I really hope they can shake it off. It's a freaky thing to be attacked out of the blue.

I try to avoid playing psychologist on other people because it's a little arrogant, but it has been helpful for me to come to terms with strange and toxic behavior in others. I have had a family member who had issues, and after many long years I had to learn to step out of the pattern and find new ways to be with them (or to not be with them, depending). And with this woman... well.... This has been the one person who scared me the most in my life in terms of crossing boundaries left and right, finally attacking me, and trying to manipulate me emotionally until I got so furious that I broke free of ever having to call her a friend again. It's made me very wary of having anyone try to place their own definitions of reality on me.

The closest I have ever come to defining how manipulative and infuriating she was was in the clinical definitions of a narcissistic personality. One characteristic is that as long as you could be a powerful supporter, the person butters you up, and if you ever disagree or show yourselves to be not in complete alignment with what they want from you, you are instantly a vile enemy.

So this is some back-story to clear my own head:

... When we first became "friends," she was so cute and endearing, buttering me up while also subtly putting me in the box she reserved for me, something I later realized was her way of keeping me in the categories of "inconsequential" and "inferior." She would include me in some of her gatherings with women friends, which worked well enough. She would compliment me, but only in a patronizing way such as continually telling the story of how when she first met me, she thought "what a cute little...!" as if nothing else I did was worthy of her attention. She did put the moves on a friend of mine who I was going out with in the time before I met my husband to be... (you can tell this was a number of years ago!).

Nothing in the beginning alerted me to how devious she could be. Even if one sees something that feels off, it's easy to minimize it and explain it away as no big deal. That started to change as we began spending more time together. She eventually married my friend (and I married M), and we sometimes did couple things together, but otherwise she did not socialize with her husband's crowd at all. She claimed to be overly-trustful, which I found odd considering how often she found fault with others for supposed sins of behavior against her. The friends and groups she was part of were THE best, THE most amazing and THE MOST wonderful people, and yet.... it was maybe not surprising in retrospect that any associate she held for very long eventually ran afoul of her. More on that in a minute.

We saw each other even more frequently as she and I and some other friends would get together regularly, and process some common threads in our lives, hash stuff out. It felt like we were bonding as a group. But after about a year of this, I started coming home after these lunches gnashing my teeth and complaining to M about how she was putting me down and trying to keep me in a weird place. It was so hard to define. She'd even play me off some of my other friends, ignoring or putting down anything I tried to share while fawning over other people, but if we were alone, she would cozy up to me. It sounds so petty, but it was so subtle, so consistent.

The worst part for me was the way she tried a weird variation of mind-control. If I (or anyone else) would state their feelings about something in a way that ran counter to what she thought, she would restate the opinion in a form more acceptable to her. This *sounds* like the reflective statements that some people learn as a way of active listening, but with her, it was her insisting on a different reality and trying to get us to think according to her version. In her voice, it was You Will Change It. It felt ugly, like she was trying to impose her own version of HOW we should think, HOW we should feel, HOW we should react. I always felt--excuse me, I think I know my own feelings better than you do! Don't tell me what to think!! It was very strange to have someone trying to exert their will one me like that, but like I said, it was so subtle, it was hard to find a place to object... the best one could do is resist back.

She joined a more formal women's group I was part of for a while, and it was the same old thing. After unsuccessfully attempting to mould the group to her own vision of how we should run the group, she became very silently disapproving and angry. It was not a good fit, and you'd think she/we would have figured that out, but still she held on. Finally, she concocted a situation to manipulate the group into feeling guilty for "not respecting her emotional needs" (to whip them into shape, I think), but calmer heads in the group saw through that and didn't buy it. That was the end of that.

God, I did so much for this woman... she could be so pitiful and needy and so in need of someone dropping everything in their lives to make her feel better. I once left work in the middle of the morning (I had very understanding bosses!) after she appealed to me to come help her deal with some trauma or other. I think she was testing me (and others) to see what she could get us to do, what would work to get us to change to suit her. She would come right out and ask for "what she needed" as if holding auditions to see who would step in and make small sacrifices for her, see if they had potential to fulfill that need. If making outright demands wouldn't work, she'd start hitting in with the emotional manipulations, trying to find the spot that would get you to feel awful enough to support her. She was a master at looking just the right level of haughty disapproval to get me to wonder what I should do to please her better. It was totally sick, but subtly so. As I figured out later, other friends were even more caught than I was, wanting to live up to that image of themselves as the good friend. She could also make generous gestures, but it had self-consciously magnanimous undertones of "see what a wonderful friend I am."

I felt I wanted to stop meeting her and pull back from being friends. I couldn't figure out exactly why all these little interactions irritated me so much, but I wanted badly to get away... We still has so many friends in common, including one good friend, and her husband with whom I was still close and had many other contacts with. With that web of societal connections, it was not so easy to extricate myself once I had been drawn in.

I say "drawn in" because I believe now that she intuitively looked for people who would support her and play roles for her. The best friend. The other best friend. The most wonderful rabbi ever. The most wonderful boss. The person with whom she would do anything for as long as they were fulfilling their role. The person who would say OMG you are sooo suffering, let me drop everything to do what you need! I don't think she enjoyed these gestures, except to the extent that she felt the power of getting people to do things for her. But I am cynical now, so I could be wrong.

This way of interacting was exacerbated when she lost her husband traumatically. It was bad for everyone. There's no doubt it was bad for her. It was also bad for her husband's family (who she shut out of a lot of info) and those of us trying to deal with our own sense of loss... Her neediness kicked into high gear, and many of us rushed to her aid. I don't know how many months we were in full support mode. You don't want to know everything we did for her... Another friend in particular tried to do everything right to be supportive... Those of us who were particularly sensitive and caring were complete suckers for this. Not that she didn't deserve sympathy and support, but giving that support fed right into her worst dynamics.

*sigh* Okay. Flash forward about 9 months...

I had to be out of state for a few months dealing with my own stuff. I would hear little rumblings about her in emails (from other people) like distant thunder, but I was burned out. From a distance, I was relieved to be out of range for a while. There were only a few passive aggressive things to ignore. One mutual friend confided to me that she suspected that this woman was making new stuff up just to get attention, and I was shocked that she would say so... We never figured out if that was actually true, but it turned out to be a foretaste of things to come.

Once I came back home, I had other things to deal with.... but one morning very early, I picked up a phone call-and got an earful of obscenities. Like a good girl trained on obscene phone calls and obsessive ex-es, I promptly hung up the phone. That was the next to last straw. I had no patience for further demands, especially those involving insults, but further screaming ensued. Then there was a lot of further nastiness.

The final straw was another episode in which she showed up in my backyard at 5:30 on a Sunday morning and acted out a little drama called "I'm totally grieving under your window." I was sympathetic for about 10 seconds, until I realized that the subtitle was actually "Let me slap you for not jumping through fire to attend to my every need, you bitch."

M was mortified, and I was furious. I didn't feel bad for her because I saw, finally, clearly, that she was doing everything in her power to manipulate me, and since she had a hunch that it wasn't working any more, she would scorch the earth to do anything to hurt me. Among the more colorful moments, she cursed me, and wished that my husband and any children I had would die. (Whoo, boy. At that moment, I was so grateful that she knew nothing of our IF story.)

I ended up demanding that she leave my property and slamming the door in her face. I was especially furious that she had caused my loving, dear-heart husband to fall into the trap of wondering what we should do to make her feel better. I hated to see him being played that way. He was grasping at straws, saying maybe we should try to appease her by doing this or that for her. I was adamant that after that naked attempt at manipulation, I wasn't going to give her a damn thing. No appeasement, no negotiation. Do you negotiate with terrorists? No!

After that particular episode, I was pretty traumatized, shaky and fearful that she would come back. I had a hard time sleeping for weeks. I was jumpy around town and anywhere near her neighborhood. I cried and raged. The one thing that gave me any kind of security was vowing that if she ever came back to my house, I would call the police on her.

And other people did not understand. Because, oh, that poor woman, they would say. Yeah, that poor psychotic! Even other friends for a while would laugh and say, "oh that's so junior high!"

You hear about the crazy ex. You don't hear about the crazy ex-friend. Nobody wants to think that this "poor little" woman is being an absolute shit. And then when I saw her a couple weeks later (in an official, public situation in front of other friends and associates), she was acting all buddy buddy again! I politely refused to engage or acknowledge her, and have refused to do so ever since. I still fear that someday she will show up on my doorstep and try to pull something.

I don't know what would have happened if I had caved into her demands or tried to appease her. It takes a lot of energy and fortitude to fend off an attack like that, but I believe it's more damaging to have to justify not standing up for oneself. I did feel like an asshole for a while even though I *knew* she was just mashing all buttons within reach. Now I just feel proud of myself (and relieved) that I did draw that line and put up a fight. Little ol' meek and mild-mannered me would come out fast and furious and slam that crap back into the ground. I can say that although I look like a push-over, I will defend my boundaries.
I know it wasn't a fluke because a few years later, I had an instance in which someone very insistently tried to force me to do something I felt was very wrong (Have you ever had someone try to bend you to their will? In public, yet? Not fun.), and I slapped him down so hard, everyone was a little awed. Somebody later said--why didn't somebody step in and defend her (me), and another friend grinned and commented, are you kidding? I wasn't going to get in HER way! I felt like a g-d transformer. Okay, so I am still a push-over who occasionally gets hulk-ified.

But here I have other friends who have their own little epiphanies about this woman, and I relive some of it all over again after working hard to step away from the emotional turmoil.

One good friend had a really hard time coming to terms that this woman who she *thought* was a friend was being so damaging to her and others. She finally felt forced to extricate herself also. She was another sensitive and caring soul who felt suckered. We don't talk about it much, but we comprise a mini survivors group.

One friend who lives in her neighborhood called me all concerned once and said he had run into her and she didn't seem to be doing so good and he was really worried about her... I was non-committal. Told him that for my own sanity I couldn't support her any more. Told him, yes, I could give him the name of her rabbi (but I didn't think it was going to help...).

I swear, it's like a bird dragging a fake broken wing! She sends out pity signals and anybody with a heart is moved... and eventually runs into this very weird dynamic.

And now this other friend, who has the biggest heart I know, who didn't turn their back on her on her craziness up to this point, has been slammed because why? They disagreed with an obsessive opinion/belief, and they suddenly discovered this other side of her. They were shaken, wondering WHY and WTF?! and concerned on top of all of that, realizing, OMG, she actually is delusional...

What can you do? It's beyond me. Not my job to "fix" her, even when I have some residual sorrow over her sorry state. There are trained people who devote their careers to helping people adjust their mental health. But there's a whole list of conditions that need to be in place to make that worth pursuing. For one, the patient needs to be willing. And of course, she doesn't believe in any kind of therapy or meds... I doubt that anyone can save her from herself. If I step waaay back, I do still feel pity for her, but it's likely that the most emotionally generous person is the most likely to get hurt in this situation.

And even if I had any kind of power to help her, I wouldn't go anywhere near her. Thank you, I am not that self-sacrificial. This is one instance when "toxic" really describes it.

I had hoped that she would eventually settle down and get back to some kind of stable reality, but then people will call me about her or say little oblique things such as, I ran into so-in-so... And they are furtive and unsettled... and I can tell that they have come up against her crazy, and there's nothing I can do except say sincerely, I'm so sorry, and You're not the only one... and live my life coming to terms with the experience, trying to not think of the day that, someday, I cross paths with her again.

* * * * *

alas poor blog

2008-01-20T19:35:00.000-08:00

test test

I'm trying something new for posting because the new and degenerated blogger won't let me cut and paste. Ever.

Oh well. To no avail. uuurrrgh.

test test
.
.
.
.

hehe

yes! I can edit in html! I knew there was a way out.

Here's the procedure:

Write something or other in the new post window. Hit preview, then hit "edit hml" and you get a page in which you can cut and paste to your heart's content...

test test
see? :)
Whew! Here I thought I would have to write off the top of my head until blogger got its act together and fixed the safari issue. no more pain.

Number Crunching, yadda, yadda

2008-01-17T13:52:00.001-08:00

Another round of referrals. What month is it again? Honestly, I have not been keeping track. Any and all mushy speculation and what-ifs make my brain (and heart) go numb, but numbers seem solid enough to be worth my while. So I did take notice when another RQ survey + number crunching analysis went up.

Our LID is March of 2007. So looking at the chart of best-to-mid-to-worst case scenario, I can see some trends. Absolute best case scenario? You mean the highly-unlikely one? *snort*

If 15 days of LIDs are assigned per month from here on out, that would give us Aug of 2010, which would be a wait of 41 months or 3.42 years.

If 12 days assigned, that would give us March of 2011, which would be a wait of 48 months or an even 4 years.

If 9 days assigned, that would give us January of 2012, which would be a wait of 59 months or 4.9 years.

7 or 5 days? Honey, we are not even on the chart! So worst case? Well, hell, how much aggravation do you want? Worse case scenario is that we are charting the deep unknown.

To those who are aggravated with RQ for one reason or another (and there certainly are a number of reasons), I ultimately say phooey! If it were not for RQ, I would still be thinking I'd have less than a year to get ready to go to China. Informed speculation; it's something.

And sometimes even that is too much information. I asked M the other day if he wanted to hear about the latest numbers. "No. Not really..." Who wants to hear bad news all the time? It's bad enough having to keep up with our freakin' paperwork. What's that you say? Another thou this year to keep our place in line? We do what we have to do.

Winter Sun

2008-01-15T18:33:00.000-08:00

I have never noticed that the winter light makes me depressed before, but this year, it's been more obvious. A gray day even with a good mood to start, and I feel quiet and glum. Sunlight lifts the spirits amazingly so.

This really hit home today today. I was sitting in the living room and enjoying my morning, but subdued. The sun suddenly came out and started gleaming in from the porch, and my heart lifted almost immediately. Wow. That quick, huh? It seems that more (sun) light translates into more energy and happiness for me.

Some days I just tear right along, feeling good and energetic and productive, or at least at peace. Other days I just feel low, glum, lackluster, discouraged and/or unmotivated. I'm not always sure what dictates this from day to day. Amount of things on my to-do list? The level of perceived barrier between me and my goals? Lack of green vegetables? Lack of enough sunlight? Strange dreams? Hmmm. Could be.

Up to now, my only reliable way to positively affect my mood has been to listen to music. Either something calm or laid back when I am stressed, or something more energetic when I need extra motivation to get moving. I often play a feel-good CD when I am starting to wash dishes or any house cleaning. The lift from the music helps get me over the hump of starting the chore, whatever it is. Sometimes I can use music when I work on other projects if it is not too loud or too lively. Interesting that it seems to help me (settle down/pep up) and focus at those times. I might be able to work the sunlight angle too.

Things that help me settle/focus/gain energy:

Music (ahhh)

Clear spaces (must declutter more!)

Quiet space (such as early morning or late night)

Having a clear idea of what I want to do and the steps I can take to get there (that always helps!)

Spending time away from the internet (doh!)

Meditation and yoga (time to reflect and refocus)

Walking or hiking

Green peas, also, a handful of walnuts or a bit of brown rice (Don't laugh. These really help me settle. Good quality food improves everything.)

Completing some routine task (like sweeping the floor, washing a set of dishes, putting away clean dishes or laundry) that allows me to feel I have accomplished something and ready for the next thing

Sometimes this is "clearing out the mental cobwebs," and sometimes it is "priming the pump."

Sunlight? Must investigate the possibilities! Fortunately, I live in a house with many windows and in a climate with many sunny days. Ironic that I can't tolerate much direct sun at all, but yet I need it.

Then, things that bring me down:

Too much time on the internet (it can be fun, but draining)

Too much chocolate or caffeine (induces mood swings; the highs and lows are both bad, bad, bad)

Too much sugar (sugar or aspartame headaches are the worst!)

Ignoring the thing I need to do (it only gets worse)

Being reminded of toxic people/situations I have known

Mood diary? Food diary? More time in real life? I am thinking so.

More sun, when I can get it.

New Years Themes So Far

2008-01-08T11:13:00.001-08:00

* * * *

Interesting start to the new year. Refreshing connections, new projects, clearing away old stuff... I have given up on resolutions, but I like to audition new habits. Maybe this year I will try writing more, eating less, more focused photography projects, fewer days sunk into the internet.

After the holidays, it's like a fresh start. As much as I enjoy all the trappings of the winter holidays, I confess relief when it is time to taking it down, sweeping it aside to take on the new year. I had my tree ornaments down in record time.

Some recent endeavors:

Reworking the organization of certain kitchen cabinets.

I don't take down the whole kitchen apart at once--no, no, no. I do the FlyLady thing and focus on one shelf at a time. But I "boogied" my spice shelf! ("Boogied" is FlyLady talk for rapidly sorting and dumping that which is unused, old, ratty, unwanted or just neglected to the point of uselessness--get it out! pass it on!)

I already have my spices split into sweet and savory piles, i.e. for baking versus cooking. Now I'm trying a new variation on that organizational strategy, using one of those rotating units I picked up a a thrift store a while back so I can see and reach everything more easily. I cleaned the thing, emptied the shelf, and decided which spices and herbs were good enough to go back. Some jars I have had since I was in college--ugh! I also repackaged a few things, such as my bay leaves in a small glass jar. I sometimes get herbs in small plastic bags, but I can't stand having a pile of teeny plastic bags everywhere! I am gradually moving to small, refillable containers. Well, it's a start. The sweet stuff went on the rotating thingie. The savory had two tiers--a tall back and an alphabetized front row of my most commonly used herbs.

It felt very good to ditch some of the old stuff I don't use any more. Clear it out!

I'm also purging a lot of old glass jars, keeping only ones of a certain size for food storage to simplify things. I might be able to pass on some of the larger ones to my sister. Another shelf in another cabinet is getting a makeover too. One shelf for drinking glasses only, one for nothing by glass jars and containers. It sounds so mundane, I know, but it really helps me to have things simplified and organized. Not five eight different versions of things I don't use, but the top three I find most useful. Plus the visual clarity of having it categorized so neatly is relaxing, helps me keep the ol' brain focused.

I am rearranging a few larger items in the kitchen as well. Like a little mini table that I usually keep for the water filter (drinking water) needs to go in a different nook and not taking up space in the conveniently inconvenient location. Of course, everything I move gets wiped down and boogied/decluttered.

And speaking of decluttering, I am working on getting junk off the kitchen floor. There are a few corners in which the random piece collects like driftwood. I am sick of it! My goal is to find a home for all of the useful stuff and junk the rest. Gradually, gradually, I am streamlining my appliances and random kitchen stuff, keeping only that which we use and enjoy.

On a non-kitchen note, I am wanting to write more and keep a better focus on my various projects both work and personal. Some of that is helped by decluttering enough to have space to work. Some of it is getting rid of that stuff which is not working for me any more, such as paraphernalia from two careers back! I have a hard time simply junking some things, have to find them a home and all that. Other times, it's very freeing to give it to Goodwill or another thrift store and let them sort it out.

I'm trying to build regular routines so I don't get so lost in distractions. For instance, I need to note my food intake better (M is doing some of the same, so we help each other), need to get more movement into the day to up my fitness, need to write more... need to get off the internet more! Haha, yes, the impossible task! But I think it's possible.

Must keep up with friends more, meditate more, clear the small room so we can do yoga together, keep decluttering the house and basement, reading more, tackle all work projects with glee and vigor. Doesn't that phrase alone exude glee and vigor? haha

Looking at my list, I realize that so far, my New Years has two themes: Focus! and Clear it out!

It's all good. It feels good. I'm riding that can-do energy as long as it'll take me. Now I've got to go finish raking leaves... Go outside and enjoy the air. I'm giving you permission if you need it. :)

* * * *

2008-01-04T16:02:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, and 2008 rushes onward with barely a howdee-do to the ghost of Christmas leftovers.

We had a mahhhvelous Christmas together, relaxed and cozy, and then we spent the 26th doing the family thing over my parents house. That was a hoot as well--especially seeing my littlest niece getting into the swing of things. Then a couple of dancing and singing events, and suddenly it was New Years. I have to say that the best gift was being with M with so much free time. Usually, he or us both get a little frazzled with obligations, so to have time to sit around and talk or read or cook or shop together was so fun. I actually resisted turning on my computer the entire day of Christmas, and it was amazingly refreshing, leaving space for all sorts of other things. It brings to mind what a friend once said about her computer: It's a phenomenal time-waster. I resolved last week to find more days that are non-internet days.

* * * * *

Anyhoo, it was a lovely time. We also went to the Sunday nativity play service at my church, although we ran so darn late. M is even worse than I am for running things down to the wire, so I was steaming in the car on the way over, just furious. I hate being late. But then I decided that I wasn't going to give him further grief about that. Just let it go. And what do you know. It worked... I can't change him, but somehow a generosity worked its way in there, and I felt more at peace with it, and it seemed to give him a more generous space too. Very cool. More about that later if I can figure out how to write it.

We really enjoyed the musical nativity play. The music was something else, joyful and moving. I found it unexpectedly hard, though, when they started singing a number called "would you like to hold the baby?" I felt like I was strangling on grief or something. I couldn't hold back tears, but I was not at liberty to just start gasping and sobbing and carrying on! Then I was really glad that we had come in so late and were sitting just inside the door in back, out of sight of most people. I didn't have to worry so much about the unappetizing look of my snotty face. M looked at me in concern, but I just shook my head... It did cross my mind to wonder if I should leave, but what would be the ultimate effect of that? Would I actually feel better by leaving? Nah... I wanted to be there. I needed to be there. Not my fault that it brought all kinds of raw emotions to the surface. I was just glad that I could be there without being stared at. It's so awkward to display emotion in public. People are so concerned and yet one doesn't really want to explain or...

After the service, I ran into someone who I used to sing with who had just moved back to town. She said she had had a hard time keeping her composure singing in the last half after she saw me tearing up. Oh, was that you singing up front? lol Me without my glasses did not even recognize her way up there! I just thought it was lovely how I wasn't the only one feeling overly-moved. haha I told her -- You know me; I come to church to cry!

Then I ran into one of our ministers later. She asked me meaningfully but discretely if we had heard any news (meaning our adoption proceedings, since she had written one of our reference letters for us way back when). I gently broke it to her that the only news was that the wait would take years. She said... well, even if I am not in town, please email or call me when something happens! She's about to be gone for a long while, so it was sweet to hear that. I confided that the nativity service had been hard on me. She looked at me searchingly and asked how I was doing with that, and did I feel okay about it. I couldn't come up with anything to say... After all, what *I* feel about it is irrelevant to the reality of the situation! After I said something of that, she mused that perhaps this was good preparation for becoming a parent, how some things are jut out of our control. Yeah, I guess so. I am sure learning stuff about forbearance!

And then we went to the Christmas Eve service and that was even more lovely. I can barely sing Silent Night at the end--it always chokes me up. Then I realized that rather than try to choke out the tune, I could just smile and drink in the scene: candle light and a church full of fellowship and music. It was really beautiful. And then I found could sing the last two lines. Damn. Making me tear up again just writing about it. There lies the sacred, the ineffable joy and sorrow all mixed together. Ah, life.

And then bringing in the new year surrounded by friends and music... You know, 2007 was actually a pretty good year for us. I can remember last January and projects I did back then...major happenings in Feb and March... it doesn't seem that long ago at all... I look back in astonishment. So much cool stuff in the last year. If I could have another year like last year, it wouldn't be bad.

So now, taking down the lights and decorations in a rush of activity, putting new projects and phases into action, I feel optimistic. It's a new year, and onward!

* * * * *

A Blue but Happy Solstice

2007-12-22T10:21:00.000-08:00

* * * * *

For some reason this year, I have been much more aware of the shifting of the planet, the darkness creeping ever further into the day. So I looked forward to the Solstice with more than cursory attention. Another day closer to the bottom of the year, before we started shifting back into the light--Yess!!

We went to a bonfire last night, hung out with friends in the cold, noshing on food and dodging sparks and smoke. Lots of funny stories about recent projects, botched opportunities to talk to our children about sex maturely (haha!), and the most outrageous things that we've taken onto planes in carry-on luggage before "the recent brouhaha" (as a British friend calls it) made such things impossible. (For the curious, the list included a chainsaw, a small butane torch, cans of salmon, and bloody scalpels and surgical scissors, and 40 pounds of frozen cow tissue for research purposes, thank you. No, I'm not kidding about any of it.) Also, of children finally flying the nest and gossip about acquaintances still suffering from serious illness that's never gone into remission (dammit), and houses half-renovated and clients who have more money than taste...

I can't say I was feeling very talkative. It was just nice to see friends and be in the circle, eat some soup, watch the clouds racing over the nearly-full moon. Afterwards, I felt a little blue. Probably it's just the early-winter lack-of-light kicking in. Or the let-down of adrenaline after finishing a busy week. Or my period kicking in. Or the reminder that people probably gossip about us when we are not around. Or that I have a few things that just won't get done this year, damn those ambitions. Or maybe just not enough chocolate.

I have actually gotten out Christmas cards this year after years and years of abstaining. Wrote a holiday letter and everything and persisted in cultivating non-perfectionistic attitudes--it's good. I made Christmas cookies with my niece and got a new pizzelle press, with which I have been gleefully making pizzelles. It's just... I don't know. Chalk it up to holiday blues. Again, M is pretty amazing, though. He's not one to press me to be or feel something I don't. I don't know how he does it sometimes, dealing with me and my moods when I get irate or upset or just depressed. Classic male internalizer, I guess. :) That and he loves me. He also says that I am so caring and understanding when he needs to talk about his stuff as well, so I don't feel so bad about leaning on him when I need it.

So... much to do this weekend, even though we are moving slowly at the moment. I am enjoying my new Christmas music, CD versions of some old Windham Hill tapes.

Other happy things:

Earlier this week, I spent a significant chunk of money buying toys to donate to a local Share Your Christmas program. I had fun finding numerous presents appropriate for children between the ages of 7-17. We also made a gift run (together--it's fun! heehee) to buy for family members, and knocked off most of our list. We've even kept to our original budget pretty well. My sisters are also thinking along the same lines, so it's actually kinda fun working within this $20-25 parameter. It also helps avoid my perfectionism from getting in the way (too much) of making choices.

Six cards in the mail box this morning! Woot!! That the haul included cards from a neighbor, a former neighbor, a Flickr friend, a Jewish friend, and someone I haven't heard from in more than 5 years is all the more astounding to me. Must send out my own last few cards.

I don't know if I will have he wherewithal to post a lovely holiday greeting, so consider yourselves greeted. :) I really appreciate the comments and connections out here on the web, even on this brave new world of blogging.

A cheerful, newsy email from the niece who's old enough to be on the internet. :) The promise of rain tomorrow... The promise of cookies to come. :) The lack of cat spit on the pine needles (believe me, this is a very good thing!). Photos of my friends' Christmas trees and interiors. Cozy interiors. Cozy spouses. Green vegetables to take the edge off the cookie madness. Time to get off the internet and do other things. And yea for more light coming back. We need it.

* * * * *

It's not always divine

2007-12-07T21:20:00.000-08:00

* * * *
Don't know who wrote this originally, but I got it from Daniel Colvin on Flickr, so maybe it's his. He says:

Writing is like exercising.
You got to do it often and it's not always divine.

Yes! True words. I love this!
It may even be a candidate for another life motto.

And speaking of exercising, I did some reps today.

All movement is good...

Does that mean all writing is good? I'll go with a yes.

It's been busy, busy, and will remain so for at least a couple weeks.
Hoping we all find those quiet delightful moments in the midst of the rush.

* * * *

Random Things of Happiness, with a side of bittersweet (a short list)

2007-12-06T08:02:00.000-08:00

* * * *
1. Happy Second day of Hanukkah! It's also about two weeks away from the Winter Solstice and less than three weeks to post-Christmas letdown, I mean relaxation. I am all about the Holiday(ies) of Lights. Bring back the light!

2. One of my neighbors surprised me with a visit and a plate of brownies. I was so touched and flabbergasted by this sweet gesture, I vowed to myself that someday I will actually have neighbors over. Maybe not soon, though. Christmas CHAOS and all that.

3. I just saw a picture of the sons of one of my ex-es. I was pleased and tickled to see they look like fine young men. One of them is even married now! But I was unprepared for the wash of sadness on seeing them. When I broke up with this long-ago ex (or rather, he with me), one of the hardest parts afterwards was missing his youngest son... we had become friends, and developed a bond beyond the necessary contact during my dating his dad. During the breakup, in addition to the usual pain of the situation, I also felt anguished that this ex o' mine was acting in ways detrimental to his son learning about good relationships, if that makes any sense. So it was a hard thing, to just cut off that relationship with the youngster so suddenly. I've often wished there had been opportunity for a better transition for both of us.

Well, over the years, I've forgiven my ex enough to talk with him civilly when we run into each other and even chat on occasion, and I'm always glad to hear news of his son, what he's up to and what he's trying and accomplishing. But, damn! I have not seen this kid (no longer a kid) for 10 years now. I am very glad that he appears to be happy and living a good life. I've seen some of his work, and I'm so proud of how he's worked so hard to make amazing things of his talents! *sniff!*

4. Yea for holiday concerts and plays! We have a weekend full of events, and some of them are even free! This is one of my favorite parts of the Christmas season - the wealth of music and stories. So far, I have a play, a performance and a choral concert lined up. Somewhere in there we will get our tree too...

5. I am still in love with my husband. In fact, I sometimes notice that I still get infatuated with him, and feel all goofy, which is an odd thing when one is married. I just look at him, and my heart beats faster. He's indescribably handsome and dear to me. He's mostly bemused by this. I'm so glad we share our lives.

6. I've enjoyed meeting with my students this year. Whether for 2 months, 6 months or 11 months, we've been able to learn some things, teach some things, and yes, enjoy our time together. It's always a bonus when one comes to appreciate each other beyond the student-teacher connection, or even within that. The bittersweet part is that two of my students are leaving the country at the end of this month. Their time for being here is fast running out. I have only two-three more sessions with each of them. *sniff sniff* It's sad to say goodbye to those you have been working with over a period of time, even though you know that time is not forever. Time to move on to new stages of life, new connections, new projects... A teacher's empty nest is soon filled.

7. There is a cyclical nature to everything that can be reassuring, even heartening. Now is the season for nippy weather, possible snow, colored light and busy schedules, of baking and newsy letters and reconnecting and sometimes guilt over unmet plans. I see the pictures on Flickr, and how often does the glow of the lights come through the photo stream. It's another one of those images... another one, again. It looks much like past years. And yet, it's that time again! ...The glow of the lights as another family, another person, another generation touches the warmth of community for another year. It's bittersweet, because those who lack and crave it are sometimes adrift, feeling shut out, unconnected, uncared for. We do our best to share the light.

8. Happy happy, Joy joy.

* * * *

flares

2007-12-02T20:56:00.000-08:00

I sat on my hands when the latest NY whatever adoption article came through. I saw the article about the State Department number of international adoption showed up in the paper, read it, had a few words with M about it, and buttoned up. Read more today about a kid raised on violence and now charged with 5 counts of murder... the senseless waste of his potential... and then I read the article about how more younger couples are going though IVF.

The article featured a young couple in their 20s going through their second round of IVF, unsuccessfully, I might add. It wrenched at me, to hear their hope and wails of anguish reported in the paper for strangers to read, so like our own except not plastered all over the state. I thought, "Should I blog about this?" Then I realized that I was in a really bad mood. Yes, I was angry. I was *pissed*, as we say in the States, stinking mad. I was mad that they had been unsuccessful. I was mad that the paper did a fuckin feature on this. I was mad, even that they had what seemed like an accurate depiction of the odds of success--1 out of 16 eggs of every woman under 35, or 21% for women *over* 35. I was even mad at the thought that some assholes would take this to complain about those poor f3tuses that don't survive. What about those of us who DO survive that experience?? I was just mad with a low-grade growl of ire.

I realized that I can't even write about these small stings. I don't even WANT to. it seems so trite to catalogue the ways in which the world is obliviously misinformed about such things. It's not worth it to me to drag the carcass out again to chew it over at any opportunity. I have to think about it as little as possible or spend my days in outrage.

I don't know why I just now noticed that I am so angry. I'm not angry all the time, at everything. I'm mostly happy, feeling good about my marriage, my work, about life. But it's all the things that have gone wrong, the limitations and misdirections and bio-mistakes that have frustrated and hurt us for years, all the unfairness of the situation.

There's no one place to put the anger. It's not that I can direct it to anyone in particular, and that's perhaps just as well. I don't want to dump this load of shit on an innocent bystander. So I avoid even reacting, thinking, feeling. Obviously, I have lots of work to do to resolve this, but I'll be damned if I am hurried along in this.

M is very good to talk to. I can't even remember what he said, but it was very validating, very wise. God, I love that man.

I think he said that IF leaves an indelible mark on a person. He reminded me of friends we know who went through a similar hell, how he had casually asked them something, even years before we went through our own shit... and even though they are a good 10 years older than we are and went through their IF stuff 30-40 years ago, it was clear that it still hurt. She told me once that they had had their kids names picked out in *high school*. She also told me once, "When I see someone with their child, it still hurts a little, inside." What she meant was, it hurts a lot, frequently. And it still hurts us, now. You can't wipe that away and pretend it doesn't matter.

M's opinion is that I am in a stronger place with the pain because I am more angry than depressed about it, that somehow the anger means that I am taking back some power for myself in this place of helplessness. It's an interesting theory... I agree with it in other contexts, but not sure how I feel about that here.

I could say the anger concerns me, but that would not be so. It's a righteous anger, and nobody can take that away from me because it would be "better" for me to let it go. I'm not letting it go, because honey, then I would be depressed, and I don't want to live there any more. If I didn't have my anger, I wouldn't have a place to put my helplessness, and let me just say that would be totally self-destructive for me. So the anger serves some function. But then where do I put my anger? Ah, ha! I will tell you.

I think I don't want to think or feel it much because I *don't* have anywhere to put it. I don't want to live in that town. But when these little jabs come out, it flares up again. So I look at it, acknowledge it, maybe even have a conversation. Then I bank the fire back, put it back in the box in the back of the closet so I can go out and live the rest of my life. Better living through judicious repression, I tell you.

Yes, I'm still angry. I think it will always be there.

* * *

2007-12-01T21:49:00.000-08:00

Well, what do you know. A writing habit can be hard to break, and here I am again... NoMo NoBloPoMo

This whole week/weekend has been a little odd. M and I both have been hit with nasty head colds for several days, and we have done the minimal amount of obligations all week. I taught a class before it got too bad, and also managed to go to the class that I cannot miss, and hopefully did not spread my germs around too much, tried to not touch anything or breathe on anybody... M had been dragging himself to work, sick, all week--no fun, that.

When I'm awake, I've spent my time reading, cruising the internets, or attempting to get work done in short bursts of available energy between doses of cold medicine, soup, chocolate, and herbal tea. Occasionally, one of us feels well enough to make some more tea or heat some more soup.

The first couple days, the cold meds seemed to have NO effect whatsoever. Bad and good periods did not seem to correlate with dosage schedules. I also could not find my preferred meds in the stores, and was having to try out new stuff. Finally, we hit on something that seemed to work, and we slept better. Ahh, sleep...

We are just starting to come out from under that. We think so, anyway.

It's been disorienting, though. I still feel pretty spacey, with little or no attention span, much less mental acuity. I don't know how I managed yesterday's post. I think I started writing in the afternoon when my energy level was up and ran with it before I fell over again. I didn't even have energy to deal with M's attempts at humor on those occasions that he was feeling more chipper--I couldn't find the energy in me to even respond. I've just been waiting it out... I can't even get too sorry about missing two great dances and other events this week and weekend... we just are not up for it.

Today, I'm just well enough to feel restless and to want to work on things, but not well enough to actually accomplish much. I did sweep the floors today after I noticed the dirt enough for it to bother me. I took a bath. I went on another soup run. Tried to find vegetarian soup at Big Supermarket late at night. I found two (two!) soups that didn't contain chicken or beef broth, and one of those contained high fructose corn syrup-yuck! As much as I get annoyed by my local food co-op and High-end Organic Grocery Stores at times, I am so glad they exist. Otherwise, we'd be reduced to eating food that I can't tolerate any more.

And now to sleep... Ahh, sleep. Be well. Hopefully a better post will arise later.

NaBloPoMo - structure and improv

2007-11-30T19:18:00.001-08:00

NaBloPoMo Nov 30, 2007

Yea! It's the last day of NaBloPoMo.

I can say that if nothing else, I have learned how to remember the acronym. hehe
But wait, there is something else. I did actually write every day--my main goal. I did explore various topics and thoughts--a secondary goal. I also explored ways of writing something when no inspiration was forthcoming--a happy rediscovery of using stream-of-consciousness writing to generate writings.

Now I'm almost surprised that somehow the month has gone by.

It's been a good exercise for me. Sometimes one has to "practice your scales and persevere." To make good art, sometimes you have to be willing to make bad art. And it's good for me to start letting go of, not my standards, but of my perfectionism. Such as: everything has to be just right; it has to be worthy of exposure to public air, and all that crap.

Well, the slow and steady approach actually works. Improvisation actually works. Preparation and practice actually works. Revision also works. I can't remember who said that good writing is in the editing. I've found that to be true in my writing process, but good editing was not my goal this month, it's more about letting go of my perfectionistic needs, not being too be hard on myself for not living up to some wildly unrealistic ideals.
Karen Kohlhass (a NY based theater director and teacher, among other things) wrote something about this, too. See? FlyLady works for all kinds of people. ;)

Anyway, it's part of the creative process... not waiting for inspiration to strike, but doing your scales, keeping the skills toned and honed so that when something especially important comes along, one can sweep into position and play it for all its worth.

I've been trying to be more improvisational with my life the last few years. I once took a wild and out-there, movement-mind-voice, not-quite-yoga class that helped me into this idea. One of the exercises we did several times was to practice a single movement until it felt familiar, and then to play with changing it in small ways, moving into larger variations, riding the impulse to see where it took us before coming back to the original movement to see how our feelings had changed about it.

It was way cool, the power I had; I realized I could improvise with almost anything! It's very different than just flailing about, trying to do something completely different, although sometimes that is what you arrive at.

I saw that my life was an improvisational canvas too. I could play with my usual ways of doing something. That's an incredibly valuable perspective when I get caught in trying to do something "perfectly" or worse, not even attempting something because I think I will fail at doing it perfectly. So life improvisation saves my sanity on a regular basis, freeing up energy for trying new things, just seeing what happens.

I can fall into a habit quite easily. Sometimes I find a good fit, and if it feels comfortable, I will stay there, using that same strategy or sequence or habit until it doesn't work any more. Now, when I talk about improvising, I am not talking about changing for the sake of change, necessarily, but I am a big fan of minimizing the time I spend on unimportant decisions.

My thoughts are partElaine St. James
(Inner Simplicity and Simplify Your Life), part Steven Covey (The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People), and part efficiency expert
a la Frank and Lillian Gilbreths in Cheaper By the Dozen
(the book, not the movie). [Oo, linkies]
and FlyLady again for structures and routines.

If something is non-vital, I want to just find what I like and what works and stick with it. Why make that same decision over and over and over again? Waste of my energy, and it's not as if I don't already have plenty of other stuff clamoring for attention in my head. :) So, I simplify where I can.

Sometimes I will prioritize my decisions. What can be decided upon relatively easily and/or is not that important, and what requires more thought and/or has a weightier import. It's a skill I didn't realize I had, until I noticed other people who seemed to get easily bogged down in what seemed to me to be relatively trivial decisions.

Caveat (of course): sometimes I get bogged down too! Too much detail, too many pieces, too many decisions among many. Oo, bright thing! Oo, another possibility! Whoa, man, that is totally cool! Next thing I know, stuff is whirling around in my head, and I'm stuck trying to make order of it.

So yeah, I can get completely lost in the fragments and bogged down trying to sort through those possibilities at times. Yet, when I CAN manage it, triaging my decisions helps me streamline my thoughts. And wow, that is a great feeling.

Sometimes I DO have a very specific idea of what I want, and that's cool too. Visualizing the outcome clearly is sometimes an even better guide to getting where I want to go. But if I don't know exactly where I want to go, I doodle, perambulate, mull things over, try new variations, improvise a little! And even with the lemons that life hands you, well, one can always make lemon meringue pie, lemon sorbet, lemon-lime palettas, grate a little peel into coffeecake batter, not just make lemonade.

Sometimes it's so freeing to not have the "perfect" outcome in mind, but to throw myself in the general direction and see where it takes me. Having ONLY a perfect image in mind almost guarantees that I will not achieve that thing. Besides, sometimes I can't visualize the perfect thing until I play around enough to know what I want. It really helps me to have my structure and routines in place first (thank you FlyLady), then improvise from that. After all, I do deal with a lot of unstructured and structured time in my life.

... and finally, sometimes, it's good to, know when to stop, let the dough rest. Now that I've done this structure of NaBloPoMo month writing, I can improvise, and see where this blog is taking me. So I'll let this one rest now... let it fluff a little and come back to it. I can't wait to see what happens next!

* * * *

Looking Like/Unlike

2007-11-29T12:27:00.001-08:00

Between doses of cold medicine, soup, and chocolate, I managed to put this down today... Maybe it makes some sense.

* * * *
Liana at Welcome to the Dollhouse has an interesting post earlier this month musing over how people tended to say her adoptive daughter looked so much like her. She is black, her husband is white, and her daughter is considered mixed, and also happens to be adopted. So there are all kinds of reaction that could be going on there.

Commenting on a child's likeness to family members... is it veiled prejudice or awkward small talk or what? There doesn't seem to be an easy take on that.

Sometimes we do get vibes from other people that they are uncomfortable or downright hostile to our combination of family/racial mix or whatever. Those questioners feel very uncomfortable and on some level want to make us uncomfortable about our choices or about who we are. In that case, I don't have any qualms about issuing a smack down or freezing them out as needed.

True, one sometimes runs into the clueless, as did one poster on RQ recently who was chased through an airport by a teen and her mother crowing how cuuuuuute her daughter was to the point of being uncomfortably objectifying. What was her remark, again? "My daughter is not a puppy!" heh Too right.

Objectifying anybody for any reason is objectionable. As if any one characteristic could represent the whole person. Even a beautiful woman may not appreciate having her obvious beauty drowning out her other talents. People are more than their faces, physical characteristics, or racial backgrounds, one way or another.

I didn't ask to be made this way, even if it looks sometimes looks attractive, so for me, it's part of my persona in the world, but mostly incidental to who I am as a person.

Anyway... What really came up for me while reading her post was the way people used to remark on my family when I was growing up.

As I've said before, I have striking coloring. I had any number of friends and strangers remarking on it. The attention was mostly favorable, but it was a little odd. I didn't look obviously like my parents since the coloring feature drowned out other similarities. I got so many people asking me (in cutesy or admiring tones) "where did you get your lovely___??" that my mother taught me to say, "I got it from my dad's ___." I think she heard a bit of a jab in some of those remarks, so my response would gently point out that I was actually related to them. And in my extended family, it's true this coloring is not at all unusual; it just wasn't present in my immediate family that most people saw.

Now I wonder if my Mom was uncomfortable with friends and strangers implying that I was not my father's child, and was trying to head that off. Of course, in the process, she also squelched any hint that I might consider myself attractive, but that's another story. Maybe she thought she was trying to protect us from judging ourselves on looks alone.

When I got older, the more common remark has become "you look JUST like" so-n-so. "Let me guess," I say, they have "____" coloring feature. I try not to be too sarcastic, but the odds are great that its the ONLY feature I have in common with this so-n-so. I've even had people mistake me for some other person who looks NOTHING like me except for that x feature. It's a permanently annoying aspect of my existence.

Occasionally, there will be a deeper similarity. My old college roommate and I looked similar enough that college friends called us "twins." But it wasn't facial features or anything. It was a hint of coloring, plus body type, plus a goofy sense of personality and humor. Once she got a perm that made her hair poof out, and I thought it hysterically amusing how she looked *that much more* like me. :D

* * * *
But anyway, the strange thing in our family is that myself and my sisters look so different from each other and our parents. Through some wild and crazy genetic mix, we each have different coloring, hair texture and facial shape. We used to sometimes get people who would accuse us of lying that we were sisters! You can imagine how annoying this can be-- people who knew nothing about our family trying to rearrange the truth to suit their limited sense of the world!

For those people who insist that families should "match," I say, "meh!" They don't know the complexity of human genes and human connections.

* * * *
If you know where to look, you know that my middle sister and I look more like two different grandmothers on opposite sides of the gene stream. She's also very striking, my sister, but she has a whole different look.

We do have emotional similarities. We are locked tight together like pieces of a puzzle, despite sometimes locking uncomfortably closely, or with little knobs that catch or grind on our connection. We used to write letters to each other when we were away at school. Long, rambling letters that touched on our frustrations, our passions, the curiosity, the need to know, to organize, to connect... We are keyed into a similar sensibility. We are literary, questioning, creative, wounded, strong, appreciative, expressive.... We functioned as undeclared best friends back then, intuitively understanding each other from our shared background. We are still alike in so many ways, but not in our looks.

* * * *
I think we are keyed from an evolutionary standpoint, to search for similarities and likenesses. You know how the human brain can discern patterns lightening fast. So if people are related (and even if they are not), we look for similarities.

I used to search photographs of myself and relatives looking for similarities. The source of my hands and frame is dead easy, but what about my eyes? My nose? From where did I acquire that funky little cleft? The occasional dimple? My tendency towards IF? My artistic tendencies? Yes, where DID I get my unusual eyes? Or for that matter, where did my sister get *her* amazing eyes, those brilliant deep blues that capture us all? It's a mystery; there's no direct lineage marker; knowing my genetic ancestors does not help clarify the answers.

Once I saw a graduation picture of myself, and I suddenly saw my long-dead grandmother in me... the one that I don't resemble was suddenly rising to the surface. I was both startled and thrilled. I AM my mother's mother's child.

My husband, now, I can see the aspects of his mother, his dad. I love seeing how my nieces and nephews have a combination of this person's eyes and that person's smile.

My BIL's brother adopted a little girl from China. I've never met her or him, but when I saw her pictures, I was struck by the similarity of expression. There were those family eyebrows, placed high as if in perpetual question or surprise--it was there in her face, I tell you! I didn't say anything because they would think it was silly.... a relative stranger pointing out an "impossible" resemblance. I just keep it to myself, a small delight that the matchers picked up on something that went together...

So what if we search for similarities? It's like working a puzzle, looking for evidence of our connections. And isn't family all about connections? What makes family, family, and not just good friends or bad acquaintances? (Oh, but that's another post!)

It seems to be that similarities are part of the glue that binds us together, whether those similarities are visible or not... and part of our inheritance, too, whether genetic, emotional or from the box labeled "other."

It seems like a grand mystery to me. Cue the sweep of violins!

* * * *

send soup!

2007-11-28T23:47:00.000-08:00

What's that? NaBloPoMo is almost over? I never thought I'd say it, but good! I am having a rough week.

But I do have something for you in an imperfect state. I will babble on for a while, but I think there's some good stuff there.

I've been meaning to post about this all month, and here's my chance--while avoiding other vital work projects while sick! (hack, sniffle) I can't avoid the deadline OR my whatever-it-is, but I can avoid with the best of them.

* * * *
A while back, I read a very appealing book (novel) called The Last Chinese Chef, written by Nicole Mones, who also wrote Lost in Translation (which you know I loved). TLCC also explores the theme of two people out of their element developing a relationship of sorts and finding new aspects of themselves, unraveling parts of their pasts, but it's less depressive overall than LIT. It really is a wonderful read.

Since my brain is not really up to originality today, I draw on some reviews for adjectives:
"Luminous" "poignant" "sumptuous" "butter smooth prose" (Diana Abu-Jaher) "nourish[ing] the head, the stomach, and the soul." (David Henry Hwang)

"A dazzling journey ... through the mysteries of ... Chinese culinary arts to produce a feast for the human heart." (David Henry Hwang)

Of all the reviews on the cover of that I've seen, I like the blurb from Kirkus Reviews the best:
"Mones has a subtle touch when portraying growing affection between genuinely nice people. Meticulously researched gastronomy will entice foodies, even those whose familiarity with Chinese food is limited to takeout. Warning: avoid reading while hungry."

I would also add the Warning Caveat: Avoid reading if you have lost a spouse, especially tragically.

The main characters are very sympathetic with complexity and flawed but endearing human detail. The book depicts how people work through some of the questions that haunt their lives... past and present... how do I take the past and turn it into something I can understand and live with in the present, into the future? Not the usual boy meets girl kind of story. It was a very satisfying read that I could really sink into. I may have to buy it for my library.

In addition to the human relationships, I was loving the little details of Chinese culinary ideals, and the terms and phrases to describe qualities.

* * * *
Some notes on cuisine from the book... most of these are quoted straight from the book.

Formal ideas of flavor and texture:

Artifice and illusion. Sometimes food is made to appear to be one thing and is actually something else. A kind of intellectual play. Food to fool the diner. Food as theater. Food for healing. Eating as community. Every meal is eaten as part of a group. All food is shared.

Flavor ideals: (four main ones)

xian - the sweet, natural flavor, eg butter, fresh fish, clear chicken broth (it's natural but it's concocted)
xiang - the fragrant flavor, eg frying onions, roasted meat
nong - the concentrated flavor, deep complex taste eg meat stews, dark sauces, fermented things
you er bu ni - the rich taste of fat without being oily

Texture ideals: (three main ones)

cui - dry and crispy
nun - like taking something fibrous and making it soft and yielding
ruan - perfect softness, like velveted chicken, a soft-boiled egg

Sometimes a dish focuses only on texture, not flavor!

Then you mix and match flavors and textures. The art of that is called tiaowei.
Then match dishes in their cycles, and then the meal as a whole, "which is a sort of narrative of rhythms and meanings and moods."

"there are three kinds of menus ... the extravagant, the rustic, and the elegant."

Some food sayings:

Zhi feng mu yu - I am determined. "Whether combed by the wind or washed by the rain."
Cu cha dan fan - eat simply "crude tea and bland rice"

* * * *
In short, this book is zhen bang - great!

I shall now go attempt to fall asleep (hack sniffle ugh)

One of those posts

2007-11-27T17:48:00.000-08:00

I got nothing today. Or I have something and I don't have any energy to deal with it. I feel like I'm coming down with something. This is the worst possible week to get sick, with the exception of any of the following four weeks...

*sigh* later...

7 Random Things Meme

2007-11-25T20:23:00.001-08:00

I was tagged by Tracy at A Map of my Life So Far

So here are the rules.
1. Write your meme, then link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
So people can know whether to thank you or curse you.
2. Share 7 random and/or weird things about yourself.
You know the weird random stuff, that you think could make for a interesting blog post, but you were shy to tell about.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
and do this step wisely,You know who is game to play and who isn't.

* * * *
So here it is:
7 random and/or weird things about myself

1. I don't own a TV. It's just not part of our lives and we like it that way. We do enjoy watching certain things while traveling.

2. I learned to like coffee by eating coffee-flavored chocolate in Germany.

3. I was a baton twirler in my youth. Don't laugh, now! My troupe went to South Bend every Summer for the big national tournaments. 'Twas a lot of work and a lot of fun. Especially since we had routines to things like "Love Machine" and "American Woman" and even "Pinball Wizard." Ah, the '70s.

4. My second toes are double jointed. I inherited this from my mother.

5. Having a china cabinet feels like the height of domestic bliss and coziness to me. It's like it *makes* the household.

6. I have a fondness for quirky humor, so it's probably not a surprise that I am a big fan of certain quirky online comic strips. It's the art, it's the characters, it's the dialogue, it's the snark, it's the sly and subversive humor.

My current must-reads are:

PVP by Scott "damn it, Brent!" Kurtz

scary-go-round by John "looks, brains and everything" Allison, and

diesel sweeties by R. "why do I even bother asking you rhetorical questions" Stevens
Now with a print series as well: diesel sweeties - print edition

7. I don't do deadlines well. Partly it's that I can be really absent minded. But mostly, it's that I am too easily distracted to figure out things like web stuff without screaming in frustration, literally. I call my husband tech & emotional support because he can do things for me when I have run out of patience, thank god. It thrills me no end when I can actually get something to work. Like for instance, look! There are linkies in this post! And a block quote thingie! (wheee!) It only took me about 6, I mean 7, edits, but hey, it's an improvement. Okay, make that 8. OMG look at those linkies! Is that cool or what? Um, what was the question again?

* * * *
I will have to add other links to tagged blogs later 'cause I am a little behind with so many other things, this will just have to go on the pile.

* * * *

Traveling Numbers

2007-11-25T19:32:00.001-08:00

Well, we made it home in one piece. Today has been a good bit of travel--a long distance, but not unbearable or undoable by our standards.

* * * *
Today, we traveled through 4 states.

We drove about 9 hours (including stops).

We changed drivers three times.

We stopped 4 times total, including one quick pee break and one longer meal break.
(We stopped at our favorite mid-point travel plaza for dinner, but there was a long line just to *park* so we veered down the road into town to find a relatively calm pizza hut we've eaten at in the past.)

We each took one nap.

We refueled twice.

The highest price we saw for regular gas was $3.27.

The lowest price we saw was $2.69.

The median price we paid was $2.99.

We traveled on 13 different numbered highways and routes.

We went through umpteen small towns and through 5 largish cities.

We traveled through two tunnels.

We traveled over at least two major river bridges.

We paid $3.75 in tolls.

We got as high as 80 mph and as low as 5 on the highway.

We saw numerous cops.

We hit only one scary traffic jam.

We saw a couple traffic stops, but only one bad accident.
(Sedan flipped on the side of the road with people trapped inside. We missed seeing it by minutes--there were folks all over the median and berm, people still stopping up and down the road, but no cops or emergency workers yet. Saw various cop cars and a fire truck tearing past later. That got me distressed for a good hour.)

We saw cows and horses and ponies.

We saw three sets of geese "V"s flying across the sky.

We saw three cars with Christmas trees tied to their roofs.

We had more than 6 hours left in the day by the time we got home. Not bad...

* * * *
Hope every one's travels go safely and smoothly. Godspeed and all that.

the family rub!ks cube

2007-11-24T19:38:00.000-08:00

* * * *
It's interesting, reconnecting with cousins and family that I have not talked with in years. Family shifts in the last couple years have made some of us look at each other with new interest outside of our habitual typical connections. It's completely unexpected but invigorating too.

Some of the old patterns lurk in the background with the potential to trip us up, but wow, there is so much possibility. We are adults now, with experiences and perspectives that let us rise above childhood petty needs.

We are still testing each other out in some ways... I hear echoes of other generational issues sometimes. Mostly though, what stands out is how we have broken through some of the old crap that kept us apart now that older members of the family (whether through death or aging) have lost the old controlling grip on what we think and feel about each other. Or maybe we are simply learning to know each other as adults. Instead of playing out old patterns from our parents, we are making new ones, improvising a new relationship.

I am interested to see how I click with relatives I never thought of as friends before. And conversely, some of the people I was closest to early in my life have receded in importance, mostly through personality and philosophical differences. Toss it all up in the air, and it all rearranges.

Relationship improvisation. It's way cool...

* * * *
Seeing a pile of children, a new set of cousins, tumble and play on the same floors where we used to play, I couldn't help seeing with double vision the past overlaid with the present. Familiar voices drifted about. I kept expecting my aunt (recently passed away) and my Dad (not here this weekend) to walk into the room... and I caught myself looking around to see others not present.

Once, talking to the child of a cousin, I gestured to my uncle and referred to him as "grandpa," and had to pause for a second to get my chronological bearings! (My uncle actually is his grandpa.) What year is this again? I'm watching the years expand and contract simultaneously, refracting in all directions, and we're all caught in time, the same cycles and family connections over and over again. Whoa!

It used to be me, down there playing with my cousins, all of us. And now the generations have moved up a bit, and I'm in the middle generation. It feels kinda nice, actually. I enjoy being a relative to a new generation, one of the responsible adults who entertain and raise the younger ones. I enjoy being in this sea of family.

* * * *

Post for November 23rd

2007-11-24T19:33:00.000-08:00

Hi! This is another post from the road. Well, my post for this day was sadly delayed because my inlaws' neighbors put a password on their wireless network, thus depriving us access to the internet. :D Too bad. Wait til tomorrow.

...and not use all the parts of the buffallo...

2007-11-22T16:19:00.000-08:00

* * * *
Happy happy Thanksgiving to you all. May you be enjoying good food (pie!) and the fellowship of family and friends. I've been thinking of those of you (some of you my own relatives) who have been facing this holiday as the first Thanksgiving without a loved one. And wishing you comfort. And pie, of course. At least there's pie.

I am thankful for relatives within traveling distance, and that we can still share the details of our lives in a meaningful way.

I'm thankful that we are relatively healthy and mostly aging well.

I'm thankful for my nieces and nephews--giving me the opportunity to hold a special place in their lives and to pass on my hard-won wisdom and family goofiness.

I'm thankful for my SIL and that we have become friends over the years, trusting each other with sensitive details of our lives.

I'm thankful for games in which we get so silly that we all start laughing helplessly until we are gasping and crying--and that such moments come especially for those who could use the rare occasion to laugh these days.

I'm thankful for meals in which so many contribute--the people who grow and harvest the food, the earth that supports us all, the people who bought and prepared and cooked, arranged the food, and brought it to the table for us all to savor.

I'm thankful for the Internet which keeps me closer to friends and family despite physical distance.

I'm thankful for my husband, a most intelligent and compassionate and loving person.

I'm thankful that I can see and hear and touch and taste and sense the world.

I'm thankful I decided to blog more to stretch myself and connect more with other bloggers.

I'm thankful for my Flickr peeps and my blogger contacts.

I'm thankful for my real life friends who make a huge heart of a community. I just love that...

I'm so grateful I have my fingers and voice and body and face with which to express myself.

I have my home (when so many do not).
I have my love (when so many are lonely).
I have good food (when so many are hungry).
I have my family (when so many are estranged).
I live in peace (when so many live in war--some of it our fault, eh?).
I live in the US with all its greatness and flaws, short-comings and ideals.
I am alive (when so many are no more).

I might have left some out...

I am alive. I think that about covers it. :)

* * * *
On a lighter note, I bring you...a Thanksgiving comic from the PVP online comic:

A PVP Thanksgiving

* * * *

Posting from the Road

2007-11-21T08:58:00.000-08:00

I am posting from a borrowed laptop, so pleases excuse my funky typing.

My oldest niece is of the age that people started asking her about her college plans. Well, she still has to take the SAT (arrgh, arrgh, she says), and she doesn't know where she wants to go or what she wants to do... I took the opportunity to do the auntie thing and give her aunt-advice.

College is so discipline oriented, meaning you decide on the discipline you want to study and spend four + years becoming an expert in THAT. But the real world is multi-disciplinary. It's usually after you get out of college and into the real world that you discover what you might actually enjoy doing and the skills that give you the most satisfaction using. There's a big difference (or there can be) between a major subject and the application of that subject in the real world. And ones idea of what a subject "means" or how it is applied can be very skewed. My own ideas were very simplistic. My friends also thought of their majors fairly simplistically. You performed or your taught or you were the artist, but nobody thinks of being a consultant to a museum, for instance... Kids approaching college plans do not usually think of these kinds of complex applications.. and by extenstion, where their degree might actually take them.

I have started to think that experience is the real teacher. how can we really know what we want to do without trying a few things? ...I had to restrain myself from telling her that it might be good to hold off college for a few years, work, live (oh yeah, must get that drivers license first), and see what things really pull you to know more, do more, be the person you want to be... Well, I did not tell her to go into the Peace Corp--my SIL would probably kill me-- I fully expect that the pressures to go to college and get a degree will not go away. Right now, she is using a process of elimination. She doesn't like math, she doesn't want to teach, she doesn't want to get a liberal arts degree only to be qualified for nothing but teaching... (that may be my BIL talking).

It's an interesting question: how do you figure out what you want to do and what you need education/training for. It's a process, I tell her. We tell her, she's ahead of the game for exploring and not yet knowing... we shall see.

Old Friends...

2007-11-20T07:58:00.000-08:00

* * *
Thinking of my friend this morning - his birthday is this week--tomorrow in fact--but he killed himself a couple years ago. I can easily visualize his face and voice in all his moods. He could be so silly and funny, so compassionate, so sad, so caring, so insecure. So much fun, music, and talent for understanding. I still miss him.

Thinking of another man we knew from our extended community - he had disappeared in August, and just this week we heard he'd been found... It's just sad, sad. I haven't seen any announcements by email... I've just been tracking it by google news alerts. There must be at least 2 football/basketball players with a similar name because I've been hearing about random sports crap for months. But this week, there was a real news hit. He'd been found not far from where they had searched originally, but a little distance away from where he had disappeared. Then a couple days afterwards, the cause of death was confirmed. Sad, sad. One never knows the kinds of demons that people wrestle with out of sight.

* * *
If you feel hopeless and depressed, please, please talk to someone and get help. You don't know the kind of joy you bring to the world.

* * *
Now we will go traveling for 12 hours! Oh, happy day. Maybe we will have internet at the end...
* * *

Assume this

2007-11-19T12:16:00.000-08:00

* * * *
At a party potluck last weekend, a good acquaintance hugged me hello, then asked me what was new, while continuing to hold his hand on my belly. I raised my eyebrow, moved away, and said "not that much."

What the fuckity fuck? Yes, I am looking a little heavier these days. I don't appreciate the reminder. Yes, no doubt those other "friends" (the ones who do not understand the word 'confidential') are gleefully gossiping excitedly amongst themselves that now that we are adopting, we are *sure* to get pregnant any week now! Oh, glee!!

Of all the insensitivity. It pisses me off to have people speculating about our lives as if it were on tv. If they are looking for excitement, I am not giving them any fucking thing. I look forward to responding to the inevitable "are you pregnant?" with my standard "no, I'm just fat." Embarrass them into the ground. It's a good defense against nosiness.

* * * *
But all things considered, this is a minor annoyance. We have pie to make, and packing to start and finish, and miles to drive to see nieces and nephews. It'll be fun. It's hard to ruin my mood, so don't even try, people.

* * * *

Chocolate and Jackets

2007-11-18T08:15:00.000-08:00

* * * *
Despite being hit yesterday by that news of that poor little girl in St. Louis (and the sorry excuse for parental adults who harassed her), I had a decent day yesterday.

* * * *
After Lindt truffle comparison shopping, I realized that the going price had gone up to 50 cents! Ack! And most places are not carrying the amaretto flavor this year; what is up with that? I guess when I attempt to make some this year, they will have to be amaretto, or at least almond flavored.

It used to be umm... 20-25 years ago or so, that to get really good chocolate, one had to find a specialty store that stocked imported chocolate bars. In college, there was one old musty wine and import coffee shop down the street where I could find the good stuff. And boy, was it expensive. The variety was pretty limited, maybe four flavors of one brand, almost all of it Lindt or RitterSport or similar brands of German or Swiss chocolate. I am not complaining about that... it was then when I realized that chocolate was more than about the sugar. That was also about the time I got a copy of the book, Chocolate, the Consuming Passion: "written, illustrated and overresearched" by Sandra Boynton. hehe A fun and informative read.

I appreciate that I can find really good chocolate in a number of places now, and even more varieties and brands. I go for the fair trade bars when I can. So it's still expensive, but that's the price we pay for this precious stuff. Not to mention the extra prices for travel and distribution since oil prices are going up. We manage to consume $5-20 in good bar chocolate a week. (shh!)

In aaany case, I bite the truffle yesterday and bought what I needed in the flavors I couldn't get cheaper elsewhere (except the amaretto). Plus other sweet things good for distributing.

There's a local massive food and gift store which carries all kinds of wonderful things, both local and imported items, so that's a good place for me to stock up. It becomes a massive chaotic maze during Christmas season--a madhouse. In even the best of times, I always get lost and have to wander hopelessly in a certain direction to get where I need to go, and god help me when I have to try to get OUT. I have a strategy that cuts down on panic attacks... Enter on the far end and stick to the coffee and cheese section for half a mile until I hit the cutting boards, bowls and knives... carry on past the cast iron and tart pans and then weave left through Italian dinnerware until I hit the chocolate.... Then, if I can manage it, I leave through the mall, so I don't have to navigate the other way. It's bloody unnecessarily complicated. Don't ask why I can't just start in the mall...

Anyhow, now I may not have to go back there in December at all! The thought makes me very, very happy. It was already difficult to find parking at the mall. What's up with that? Maybe "everyone" has the same idea that I do--get ahead on shopping. Now I have to hide the whole package from myself for a while. That's how many pounds and dollars in sugar/chocolate?

* * * *
More fun things: A women's clothing exchange. I have become a big fan of these because it gives me a place to pass on clothing I need to get rid of, AND to maybe find new free stuff, AND hang out with cool women (who I may or may not know) while we all try out new looks.

Part of what I enjoy about it is the potential possibilities of the situation. All sorts of random clothes and women get thrown together, and almost everyone can find an unexpected connection that is a pleasant find. It's like going shopping with the camaraderie of your girlfriends, even if you don't have the kind of girlfriends in the rest of your life who you can do that with.

So what do you think? Is it me?

I scored a couple of really wonderful jackets I can wear for teaching or to more formal (glitzy/sober) occasions, plus a bunch o' other stuff. Even a couple of men's shirts for M. These days, I get most of my jeans from exchanges because I can't find what I want in the stores... and apparently, at least one of the women in the group wears my size. And has fabulous taste. I've been lucky that way. :) Good fun for a sunny Fall morning.

* * * *
Well, I'm off to bake some before the day gets (even more) hectic.

Wishing you all a relaxed and enjoyable day with loved ones.

May we all treat each other with kindness and grace, even when we get annoyed with each other.

* * * *

I Read the News Today II

2007-11-17T21:33:00.000-08:00

* * * * *
Guess which recent news item lead to *this* reaction:

Oh my god...

Oh my god...

..... God dammit!

It's not right.

Apparently some people can't be trusted to be human beings, god fucking dammit. Okay, I'm sorry I am in cursing mode, but that's all I can do right now, cry and curse. I hope the Universe metes out some justice.

* * * * *

Edited to add:

Sorry, I didn't leave a link. Here's the story from the Chicago Tribune (not a hot link): Net Hoax Turns Deadly.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/services/newspaper/printedition/saturday/chi-suicidenov17,0,2946138.story?coll=cs-home-headlines

Is it Christmas season yet?

2007-11-16T15:47:00.000-08:00

I usually roll my eyes over the too-early advent of major holidays, but this year, I have been hearing Christmas music in my head since October or earlier. I know it's insane, but there it is.

So... I am working ahead for Christmas this year. I've worked out a list, a rough budget. I've started buying things for baking and seasonal greetings things (like stamps for cards). I am actually working ahead! Weee!

I'm doing the FlyLady thing, making my lists and buying a few more items each time I am out to spread out the cost. There was even some fairly large bill that is not due until mid January that we've already paid this month, to avoid piling on to the already impressive list of non-holiday bills due in January. We are trying to ease the pain of expenses coming all at once, and reducing stress overall.

The only rough spot is looking at our budget for gifts and charitable giving. The last few years, we have tried to give as much charitable gifts as we do to our family, spreading our gifts around to include more people who don't have as much to begin with. But the total can burst up to the top of the scale very quickly.

At the moment, at our (realistic) budget, we have about $15 per person (since we have a pretty good sized family). If we wanted to raise the total, we'd be up to ... uh $20. That doesn't include things like truffles that family members love to get in their stockings. (It's not like they can't go buy their own truffles, but they seem to taste better when they are given, and it's an easy way for me to make lots of people very happy. :)) Some years I have done things like construct fruit & cheese baskets.

* * * *
I am feeling ambitious about baking this year, too. My plan is to make more varieties of cookies, but a smaller batch of each kind. Otherwise, we end up with tons of cookies that we feel obligated to eat, and no, we don't want to eat that many cookies in one month!

Also, I hope to do a cookie exchange with some of my friends. (That's fun!) I also like to get in a baking visit with my sisters. I think my youngest niece is about old enough to decorate cookies this year--glee!!! I also like to include a few things that I can mail to far-away cousins.

* * * *
And of course, I loooove my Christmas music. I have a collection that ranges from the Vienna Boys Choir to the Roches, the Peanuts Special to early medieval carols to the Karl Luboff Choir. A little Celtic, a little jazz, a little Patsy & Elmo (of Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer fame). I have some Windham Hill Christmas collections on tape that are just lovely, and too many more to count unless I want to type a freakin list.

It's one of my favorite parts of the season.

I also like to add a CD or two to my collection every year... if I can find something I actually like. I have all kinds of funky options on the list, a carry-over from a place I used to work where the bosses had extensive and eclectic music collection. So these days, I search for the Christmas albums from the Modern Mandolin Quartet, and Blue Hawaii (Christmas on the Big Island), and The Squirrel Nut Zippers (what's that up there on the roof?!), maybe some Amy Grant.

But regardless, I am restraining myself for at least a couple more weeks before I break out my tunes.

Here's a question, if it doesn't make you burst out in hives. What's your favorite Christmas music to enjoy next month? Reverential or raucous, peppy rock 'n' roll or antique motets? Or all of the above? What's dear to your heart?

* * * *

Toasted

2007-11-15T07:55:00.000-08:00

* * * * *

I've been noticing a giddy air of silliness sweeping around the blog sphere like a virus. It seems especially prevalent among NaBloPoMo-ers. I speculate that it is correlated with the "hump day" of NaBloPoMo. Everyone has been posting for days and weeks, and we are getting a little punchy from the effort. Can't sustain perfectly serious-thoughtful-well-written-humorous output every day.

When I went to a special seminar/ week-long camp a couple years ago, my coach there warned us early on that most people would get "a little toasted" mid way through the week. It was inevitable that everyone would stay up too late, try to do everything, engage in all sorts of concentrated work and silliness... and then get emotional, irritable, wacky, go a little nuts and/or retreat.

And that's exactly what happened. Everyone had their signature breakdown moment, some more noisily, some more quietly. It was just human nature to react to the extended push, especially as we were pushing ourself away from our usual familiar environment.

And we had been forewarned to give ourselves and others a little slack for just such an occasion. But, whew! That was a little stressful. Because our usual trajectory was what? a long weekend? We are not used to running on creative adrenaline for long stretches, unless we have worked up to it and have learned strategies to pace ourselves.

Notice anything this week? Yes, some of us are getting a leeetle bit punchy. It's funny, this mostly cheerful wailing. Fortunately, we've been forewarned to give ourselves and others a little slack. haha. Bullet points do not offend me! The synapses are firing madly, trying to keep up with demand. New synapses are being built all the time. It's physically tiring work, I always tell my students. And yet we keep on, even when we falter. Keep on keeping on!

A toast! To all NaBloPoMo-ers heaving themselves over the hump! There. You've been officially toasted.

* * * * *

Random Things of Desperation

2007-11-14T20:55:00.000-08:00

* * * *
My students were really silly tonight, loose and happy. Must be something in the water, and now it's made me wired, too.

O-kay! A meme! Yea! Saving me from drooling over belly button lint for today's post...

When I started shrieking over finding this post-saving idea from AmFam, M said, "This is a NaBloPoMo thing, isn't it." Actually, I'm highly entertained that he pronounced NaBloPoMo correctly. Rhymes internally with Mos Def. NoMoFo, yo.
Anyhoo.

* * * *

Four, I mean Eight, Random Things About Me (or Thanks, AmFam!)

1. Ummm... Oh yeah. I've started to lose my short term memory. Half the time, I forget what I am saying in the middle of a thought. Sometimes because I get distracted by another thought. Sometimes I just wander off. Usually that's when I have a lot of competing thoughts, not all the time. Other times it's the name of things. It is, of course, the usual sign of aging that anyone older than myself will roll their eyes over. Except one friend who started demanding why my doctors hadn't told me anout memory techniques. Uh, 'cause they think it's an age thing, too?

2. I am very visually oriented, but my visual memory is poor for some things, like for how word are spelled. Big vocabulary, bad spelling. Can't type worth a darn either.

3. I can remember random snippets of languages I have learned years ago.
"Ni hau ma? Wa hen hau!" Learned from a friend in college when she was taking Mandarin to get on better with her Chinese boyfriend. He was from Taiwan, so the Mandarin was diff, but oh well.
"sooramus" means ring in Finnish, and
"huk@p@ hethew@the" means something very, very bad in Singhalese. How edifying.

4. I like collecting heart shaped objects. Maybe you've already heard that. I'm not as obsessive about it as I used to be.

5. I always resented the kids who were tracked into a more creative and welcoming classroom environment than I was. My thought is, it's those of us who are not living up to their potential who *need* that extra touch. But noooo.

6. i dont work well undr pressure, but ti concetrates the mind beautifully. (4 minues and counting) (see: typing)

7. I used to know all about cotton rag papers.

8. And.......... I name my cats as much for the sound of their names as for the meaning. Or a little of both.

* * * *

The Inner Critic

2007-11-13T07:45:00.000-08:00

* * * * * *
Isn't it interesting how the inner critic jumps up almost immediately and starts picking away at us? The more ambitious the project, the more vociferous the "helpful" comments. It's almost guaranteed that if I do something large and possibly spectacular that the inner critic will be right there to tell me all the ways it is wrong, could be improved, or is just plain crap. Even when the inner critic has a valid point (needs more editing), it rips into it with petulant glee... No, not helpful.

Also interesting how Kyran recently wrote about the benefits of The Artists Way. I confess I have had this book for years. Decades, it feels like. *pauses to go look at book* I've never persisted all the way through the exercises, although I've read and marked it up extensively. I'm sure it would be beneficial (for me to go through the real program) rather than approach it piecemeal.

The value for me at the time I first had this book was realizing that the man I was with would do anything than allow me to be the artist I was. Ironically, I had learned to tolerate all sorts of emotional abuse, but I eventually sustained the will to leave *because of my art*. I saw that if I did not leave, he would manage to drown the artist I was in the bathtub, sort to speak. Classic crazymaker. Now of course, I carry the internal critic with me, but that's another matter. At the time, I observed myself acting as if from behind a screen. So I didn't leave for myself, but for my art. Hey, gal, whatever gets you going. :)

I don't often get nervous on stage or at a presentation any more, at least with the ones that I have found a good groove with. Unless it is a new one. Then I get nervous and irritable beforehand. M is familiar with this state I get into, especially leading up to a new endeavor or presentation. Once I am in the flow, I am completely absorbed in the task, and too happy to worry much.

But then, afterwards, oh my god.

I have learned to anticipate the internal critic's tactics. If I didn't do so well, I will hear about it immediately, but that's valid. I can even judge a not-so-great evening fairly evenly these days. M says I am seeing myself more accurately... taking in both the strengths and the weaknesses and learning from both without becoming over-inflated or overly-self-critical. So, yea me.

But the morning after... ohhh, the morning after. Even if I have done a marvelous, bang-up job, in *particular* if I have done an amazing job (!), and there's lots of details for me to mull over and congratulate myself on a job well done... that's when the inner critic wakes up and begins to lash me for any tiny false detail it can find...
I wish I were kidding.

The first few times this happened (depression and nit-picky criticism after an astounding success), I was just carried along. Oh, the weeping, moping, and self-loathing. Oh, the What the Hell Is This? Because, you know, I had been, often, pretty darn masterful and here my critic was scraping the bottom of the barrel to find *something* to throw at me, so Whaaa??

After a while, I realized the pattern, and I've learned to roll with it a little better. Yeah, yeah, internal critic, huh? I must have done a fabulous performance for you to be coming out today! Yeah, too bad. I'm feeling pretty good about it regardless...

My mantra is often: There's always something more to learn, something to improve.

In fact, one of my workshop coaches gave me a great concept: She says that mistakes are our friends because it shows us where our learning point is. What a concept, eh??

This turns the internal critic somewhat on its head. I am enjoying successes, but almost enjoying the mistakes.

-- huh, that's a new one! I'll say.

-- no, no, the mistakes are for feeling wretched, you worthless fool! the critic will moan.

I just smile and go on. --oh, hi critic. it's you again, huh?

The inner critic is a little baffled. --WTH? why isn't she falling over in despair?

--not today. I smile and go on.

* * * * * *

Traveling Conversations with my Mother 1

2007-11-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

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I went driving around looking for quilt fabric with my mother today. It was part of my birthday present. My parents are old hands at giving the gift of themselves, and we like it that way. So today was the day out and about together, with a pleasant lunch on the side.

We drive out to a small town in the far reaches of our region to check out a quilt shop rumored to have a decent collection of vintage-y fabric. Flags and bunting are all over the streets from the parade yesterday, clustered thickly in bunches of two and three. Unlike some small towns, the crossroads of downtown are lively and well cared for, small shops and cafes in use, even on a holiday. I happily drool over a few old buildings and their brickwork.

The quilt shop itself is not so large as to be overwhelming, but with lots of nooks to discover. They do even have a section of Civil War and vintage reproduction fabrics--yes! I have an old family scrap quilt to reconstruct and modern prints just won't do.

I pile up potential fabrics and then audition them in batches, putting them through their paces, holding them next to different sections of the original, squint and decide. Being as quick and ruthless as necessary, I throw them into yes, no, and maybe piles.

Some colors seem impossible to find... blue faded to indigo and a burgundy plum red. Most of my finds are either too and bright and colorful or have an appropriate palette but an unfortunately modern print pattern. Some prints might work, but are on too bright of a background. When I lap the sample over the quilt, the contemporary fabric just glows! No, that won't do at all. The fabric has to fit in somewhere in the mishmash of eras represented in the quilt.

We don't know when the quilt was made, or by whom. We only know it came from a family farm. The two sides are subtly different, one more faded and older style fabrics than the other, as if one side was completed more recently than another, but both are machine stitched. We speculate that perhaps an aunt made one side and a niece or daughter finished it. It was certainly made to be warm; the batting was thick and heavy to stand up to a Midwestern winter in a farm house with little or no central heat.

I go another round, compare and contrast. I whittle the massive pile down to six, with extra yardage of a particularly versatile print.

I used this quilt, though frayed, all through college and into my twenties until the fabric started leaking old musty batting. It was becoming a health hazard of sorts. Rather than let the thing molder, I cut apart the remains of the binding (which was already shredding with glee), threw away the nasty innards and gently babied the two pieced tops. They've been in my closets ever since, and now my mother is willing to help me revive them. What a task!

I contemplate my goals here.

I don't want this small part of family history to be trashed. I have some nostalgia for the juxtapositions of different old fabrics, part well-worn farm country, part 20ish teeny classy prints, with a few blouse prints with 50ish squiggles thrown in. And the plaids, oh, the plaids. Some of it sedate, some almost garish.
I want to be able to preserve the pieced tops enough to use them if I want, for either warmth or display. They were never quilted originally and the fabric suffered.

There's a practical side to me, wanting to actually *use* family antiques. If I have old glass plates or salt & pepper shakers, I will keep them in circulation. Silver keeps polished better when used...

I do like a certain old farm style, mostly because of my growing up around farm relatives and the old possessions that never got thrown away (note: Depression era values). I wonder how I will convey that distinct aura of farm life history to my daughter. Not to sentimentalize it-- it's hard and dirty and frugal. You canned and froze the apple sauce you had scraped out of the one apple tree fruit not because it was fun, but because it was part of your food sources, and it was incumbent on you to make every use of your resources.

I have cousins still living that farm life style, albeit with a slightly lesser air of desperation to survive.

Everything all squeaky clean and brand new--what's the fun of that? I like my life with some character to it. But not to hang on the wall... I want my history as a living tradition, not locked away in a display case.

It's a debate that rears its head in other writings and genres. I remember a book--can't remember which one-- in which two adult daughters disagree on how to best honor their mother's quilts. One, still living the rural life, is happy to use them on her own bed and remember the people who made them... The other, the more urbane sophisticate, is horrified that such "valuable antiques" are still in use. She wants the quilts to display in her house, to give them the "proper" respect.

My attitude is somewhere in between. I can't keep the family quilts pristine because they were never pristine when I got them. I can't really refurbish and preserve them perfectly, either. I'm not going to merely lock them away to save for someday, nor hang them on the wall as if in a museum. Well, maybe. I can give them new life, blending a little subtle modern material in the mix to help them survive another several decades or more. And enjoy them meanwhile.

And I can remember the bedrooms where the quilts were in use and the people they kept warm, including my father in his boyhood.

Here's to keeping the past warm while warming the present.

* * * *

Ma Vie En Rose - Explorations in Identity

2007-11-11T20:38:00.000-08:00

We just saw the most interesting movie on DVD:
Ma Vie En Rose (My Life in Pink), about a little boy who feels that he should have been born a girl. His older sister tries to explain to him, how girls have an X&Y, and boys have two Xs. Ludovic concludes that he was meant to be a girl, but that his Y must have gotten lost when God tossed it down... it's scientific!

The story follows he and his family as they move into a brand new neighborhood, and progress (if we can call it that) through misunderstandings to scandal, to stress and hostility from the neighbors, school. Ludovic gets pressure and blame from even within his own family. His grandmother (who dyes her hair and drives a bright yellow convertible) is the only one comfortable enough with herself to give him unconditional love and nonjudgmental support. Everyone is trying to force Ludovic to be the little boy they expect him to be, not the little girl he feels himself to be. So much pressure on a 7 year old from even his own family. At one point I turned to M and said--this is why so many gay, lesbian and transgender kids try to commit suicide!!! I'm not spoiling much to say that at one point Ludovic does not want to live, either. Although at the end, a new change of scene seems to bring a lift to the future, it's still so sad.

The movie has strong elements of fantasy and conformist absurdity. Ludovic is such a personable and likable kid... but we see him become confused, hurt, desperate and then sullen like his light has been stamped out... his despair and hopelessness is oppressive.

The movie made me vow to myself that if I ever have a gay, lesbian or transgender kid that I will support them to my outmost. I never want to have a child asked to eradicate his or herself deepest self. Heartbreaking...

* * * * *

Edited to add a recent link (sorry-it's not a hot link) to a post of a similar real life life-story. Thanks to ZoeB.

http://www.pamshouseblend.com/showDiary.do?diaryId=3596

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Blog starter

2007-11-10T15:03:00.000-08:00

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Favorite part of today other than flirting with my Sweetie: Making strawberry-cranberry cobbler for a potluck, and shredding the cranberries with my lovely little food processor instead of chopping and slicing by hand. Whirrr!

* * * *

I often start a blog post by looking at what I have written before. I even have bits of thoughts and writings that float around in an unfinished, sometimes barely started, state.

It's rather like bread starter. Take a bit of yeast and let it warm and sit and fluff up. Take a piece, and viola! A new batch for bread! My blog starter is much the same. Bits of older posts or snippets of ideas, random thoughts, half-written things... I have to let them sit and fluff up, and sometimes I get inspiration from some of it, and viola! Another post!

It's a good thing I have this blog starter because I was seriously about to post an exhaustive list of everything I'd done today. Whew! Stale. Yes indeed, it certainly is good to have this starter... Mm-hmm. It's still fluffing, though. Maybe something new tomorrow.

Here, you want some blog starter? How do you get your writing started?

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g-d-m it

2007-11-09T12:10:00.000-08:00

Okay, I also read the other news, that's why I'm so damn grouchy and morose.
http://chinaadopttalk.com/2007/11/08/heartfelt-letter-from-an-agency/

Did you catch that part about 4 years? No, really more like 5 years. Another punch in the gut.

Before I spiral into another depression, let's ignore that for while, shall we? I have other life to live.

I read the news today, oh boy.

2007-11-09T10:49:00.000-08:00

Another two teens killed in a car accident this week. Why why why??

Nothing but youth and inexperience. Overcorrecting mistakes that turn out to be fatal. Often the overcorrection is the mistake, not the original error. How to teach avoiding such a thing?

Kids these days being hit by the immutable fact that we are not immortal. It's one thing to lose someone to old age. There is some sense to it. But the random errors that turn deadly. It's not what most of us could predict. It gives the impression that death comes at random, at any time. It's not such a bad lesson, really, but how painful and sad.

I remember the first time I was shaken by accidental death. I had already lost three grandparents, but to me, they were old, so I had learned this happened when people got old and physically worn out. Then 15-some years ago, a good friend of our accountant at work suffered a single car accident. Coming home from an event in the middle of a rainstorm, she hydroplaned on the highway, hit something... She was in a coma for less than a week before her family decided to turn off the machines. It was so sad, so wrenching. It was worse, not that I even knew her, but watching our colleague suffer the anguish. Later someone printed a B&W photograph that they had taken of this woman and framed several to give to her friends.

This had a huge emotional impact on me. It seemed so mercilessly random. I remember crying in church "this could have happened to any of us!" And a woman telling me (she thought, kindly), this is the kind of thing that most people learn when they are much older...

Well, how old do you have to be to lose a friend or loved one?

The last several years, the deaths have picked up. I've lost friends to lung cancer, brain tumor, complications of breast cancer, pancreatic cancer (that sucker moves fast),Alzheimer's, more than a couple to bizarre unexplained heart illnesses that moved either fast or slow. There is no age that is immune, unfortunately. (I do actually know many other people who have *survived* brushes with cancer or accidents.)

The very worst have been those friends I've lost to murder and suicide. The community pulled together admirably each time, but we worry and fret that they could have somehow been prevented, that we didn't HAVE to lose them. Not even accidental, these deaths, but deliberate. No rest for those left behind. In fact, the trauma of the deaths still leaves chaos in its wake, 3 and 5 years later. Lives survive, but relationships may either strengthen or crumble under the stress... This too I learned.

This has the overall effect of leading me to periodically ponder and obsess over the next random thing. That and really appreciating the friends and other joys of my life. I've learned a lot about how to die gracefully. I've learned a lot about how to protect oneself while mourning. I've learned how to be more supportive of others. I've learned the path of grief as it progresses through the body, through a community. I've learned to not assume anything. I've learned that there are few certainties, so to make the most of it.

Oy, what a downer post! Well, it's life: heart fulfilling and heartbreaking. Another two teens killed in a car accident this week. I read the news today, oh boy.

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Culture adaption

2007-11-08T10:58:00.000-08:00

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One of my international students today relayed the sweetest compliment to me. His wife (also one of my students) thinks I am the most kind-hearted person she's met in the US. *big grin* heehee! I am very flattered!

It also makes me feel sad about all the culture shock and stress that people feel when accommodating to a new culture. Everything you've learned about how to act, what to say, how to treat others, to ask or not... all those subtle clues are now wrong in this new context! It's hard to be confronted at every turn with another culture telling you that you are not acting right. It makes me want to take all newcomers under my wing. Never-mind that it's impossible...

I just hate to see anyone lost or confused or out of their depth. Cultural understanding, that's my thing. I used to think I should be an ambassador. One of my ex-s once told me I should have been a diplomat, but I don't think he meant it as a compliment. Does it hurt that I notice nuances of non-verbal behavior? I've learned to adapt and fit in to some unusual circumstances in my life. I'm proud of being able to do that, but sometimes I wonder if it's really a talent or actually a weakness. Holding onto your identity while others tell you that you should be something different, now that's an interesting challenge.

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Coming up on Transitions

2007-11-07T20:34:00.000-08:00

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First let me get some snippets out of the way.

My cat, he is bugging me. Cat! When you want attention, you stretch up to my leg and scratch the chair, sometimes snagging me as well. Stop it; it hurts. Then, after I invite you up, you fake a jump, then purr loudly at my feet instead of just jumping up like I know you want to do. And no, I am not going to pick you up simply to make your life easier. Jumping into my lap is some of the only exercise you get. If I deprived you of that, soon, you'd be able to move even less! I will not indulge your learned helplessness. Work those muscles! ...Okay, now you're good. Just try not to interfere with my typing, okay?

* * * *
It was summer forever and now the backs of my hands are all cold again. What happened? Oh, my usual circulation. It's the first week of cold hands for the next several months.

* * * *
I mentioned mid-life transition in my last post. The cliche is that you turn 40 and run off with the cabana boy or buy a red convertible. It never occurred to me that such a thing would have anything to do with *me*.

Well, it turns out, it happens to just about everybody. My theory is that it's only a crisis if you deny it or resist the change until it blows up in your face.

Also, apparently, mid-life transition typically starts rumbling in the mid-thirties.

But in my early-mid-thirties, I did not know any of this. I was in a job that I enjoyed, but under management that drove me crazy. I couldn't really move laterally, so I ditched it and went in a new direction, went back to school, threw myself into this. It was so good for me, both the direction and the being back in school, learning new competencies. I was also lucky that at that point, my husband-to-be was extremely supportive.

I was also feeling some unsettled moods... not really moods, but underlying rumblings of existential portent.

Then we went away on the other side of the country for one Summer. One of those extended conferences. The plan was that I would entertain myself while M was in class/meetings all day, then we'd travel and sight-see on the weekends. Not a problem to entertain myself. I bring projects, I get a local library card, I go on local tours and bird-walks, that kind of thing. I'd have fun exploring the area during the day. And we sure did have fun traveling and sight-seeing.

Yeah, so it turned into a mini-retreat. Or a major retreat. It turns out that in that area, one could not spend that much time outside. I spent a LOT of time inside, listening to music, reading, writing, dreaming. I mostly loved it. I was a respite from my everyday life, keeping me so busy that I hadn't had time to reflect. The reflecting, though, was hard.

I was fortunate that I had brought one of those life exploration books with me. This one was called The Three Boxes of Life and How to Get Out of Them (An introduction to life/work planning) by Richard Bolles. The author is more famous for his "What Color is Your Parachute" series, but this book suited me fine. It's more of a workbook with lots of encouragement to explore and consider. M had actually pointed out to me months earlier that I didn't seem very happy with my work situation, and that maybe I should consider another direction. He is an amazing sweetie giving me that kind of loving nudge, but oh, I resisted that. I fought against that idea that I should "give up" what I'd wanted and worked for. (Does this sound at all familiar in respect to later events? *ahem*)

But with lots of free time on my hands, I gave myself permission to consider that my current direction, that I had spent so much time in training and trying to make a career out of (in addition to the challenge of working for myself), was really not working for me. I had somehow slipped into the mode of valuing quality over quantity, and this career that I'd spent so much time on was a polar opposite from what I wanted. Ack!

So in this book, I explored all kinds of new things, considered radically different ideas for myself, even careers that I have never heard of, based on my aptitudes and interests.

In the library, I searched for things like the search for meaning. I found things like, ummm that woman who has written some wonderful books. Yes, the Secret Life of Bees (that I'd read earlier) and others. I'll edit her name in when I get a chance to track it down. She's *wonderful*! I read her book about her own search for meaning, a painful but ultimately fulfilling reassessment of who she was, her life, her faith, her all. She wove parts of the narrative together so well, but not linearly. It was perfect for reading a half chapter then musing.... Sue Monk Kidd, that's her name. There you go: the elder mind creaking into gear. :)

I will tell you frankly that SMK's books gave me solace. I was not alone in the scary straits of what they hell am I doing and what is my life.

Then at a bookstore, I stumbled across a book by an Australian author, Robyn Vickers-Willis, called Navigating Midlife: Women Becoming Themselves. Despite its flaws, the big light bulb went on, and I thought--ahhhh! Is THIS what has been going on? Hey, cool, maybe she has some insights that will help me figure out where I am going.

And that's enough for one night.... :) Love ya chicas! More tomorrow.

* * * *

Shedding

2007-11-06T10:15:00.000-08:00

My last post showed how I love to hold onto little things. I like the special details, but still... there's a lot of crap. Or as some more ruthless, less sensitive relatives might say, it's ALL crap! The older I get, the more I tend to agree. If it's not useful, it's Crrrap!

I remember my grandfather later in his life grousing about photographs. I had asked him about the rest of his collection of family photos, and he started talking about how they were all "meaningless." At the time (this was 25 years ago), I was really shocked to hear him say that... he'd been a photographer all of his life, even had a tiny darkroom under the stairs when my mother was growing up. In my family on both sides, family photographs were part of the very fabric of life, documenting the generations, holding the threads of family history and narrative together.

But now, these many years later, I've started to appreciate what I think he meant. I have boxes and boxes of journals, letters and photographs. A few years ago, I started feeling oppressed by the vast *volume* of all these so-called precious memories, blah di-blah. I thought--my god, I've only lived barely half my life and already I have *this* much stuff??? What the hell am I going to do for the next umpteen years? And who will want to look at all that? (I had already seen my future with my parents' house full of things that, as executor, I would someday have to distribute and sort.) It was becoming a chore to store all that stuff, rearranged or no.

I started to plot ways to give things away. I went through photos and threw away double copies of bad photos. I ruthlessly tore through boxes of memorabilia and culled down to the smallest volume (I'm still working on that one; I have a backlog).

I got a Flickr account and started putting photo images there. I still take lots of photos, maybe even more than when I was shooting film, but I've printed maybe 20 photo images in the last 2 years. And I save only the really meaningful images.

Even with my writing, I started feeling oppressed by the writing I used to do. All this excessive documentation that I've been schooled in since I was a child, it's not the sacred task it used to be. Who the hell am I saving it for? Myself? I'm bored with it. For my future theoretical children or future generations? Do they really need my life notes from when I was in junior high? For my husband if he outlives me? Same thing, plus I've already shared the juicy bits. For my literary future biography? *snort*chuckle* For historical purposes? *heehee! as if!*

The only reason I can see to save my journals (for instance) is to reflect on who I have been and how I got where I am now. I do like that. But although it can be useful to return to the past to evaluate where one came from, I'm not feeling it now. The sheer volume weighs me down.

* * * * *

I used to like feeling the coziness of being surrounded by things that I loved. More often, these days, I can't breath from all the *crap* surrounding me. I just can't stand it, and start flinging things away left and right.

But I don't think I have given up having things that I love. I am no ascetic to live in a spare, blank space. I still love coziness.

But my priorities have changed. Some things I thought were so important, even some of my best-beloved possessions or activities, I don't find so vital any more. It's so strange to see such loved things receding in importance. Such goes the mid-life transition.

It's as if I have been shedding the person I used to be, and the old skin doesn't fit. It itches and binds. It's painful, shedding. Like a bad sunburn of my youth, I'm rubbing it off in curls and sheets, peeling, both horrified and relieved, knowing new skin wants to come through.

It's very sad to see parts of my old self go. As much as I cherish the self I have become, the self I am becoming, I look back on my younger self fondly. So many hopes and dreams, frustrations and learning accomplishments. I don't want to forget all that. I keep small mementoes. As one comic wit once said... Everyone carries baggage, but you want to aim for carry-on luggage, not steamer trunks.

Here's to the shedding...

* * * * *

Art & Life Detritus

2007-11-05T11:06:00.000-08:00

I meant to muse on arranging of personal space, and instead spun off on collected clutter, AND about other related aspects. So maybe I'll post it over several days. Ridiculous, now that I've written enough for several days to post it all at once, eh?

* * * * *
I am a magpie by nature and inclination. I tend to collect what I call neat things. Some of that is just paper crap. Some of it art or articles or neat little, well-designed things that catch my eye.

Since I am very spatially and visually sensitive, I like having a clear space AND interesting detail. It's hard to live on either extreme of the continuum. The detail is stimulating, but I need clear space to actually think. So I have conflicting desires for ahhh... clear empty, clean space with good light.... and reminders of all the cool things I notice.

Too much empty space? Things start piling up almost immediately.
Too much clutter? I can't think.

* * * * *
A small list of some of the things I have collected and/or still have around:

1. Tiny wooden paperclips. Some teeny, others just child-sized.
2. A child's antique aluminum cup with cute scenes on the sides. (family antique)
3. A little colorful inspirational note that one of my teachers gave me.
4. Three different nickels with three different designs on them.
5. A little bauble of a baby in a red blanket + bell from OCDF.
6. A little 2005 calendar from Italy that my sister gave me -- I still enjoy the pictures.
7. Several whelks of different sizes. Actually, I have many seashells collected over the years.
8. A metal entrance fee tab from a local art museum that has a cool design on it.
9. One of those wire and bead orbs that can be pushed and pulled into myriad shapes--a tiny one. I rearrange it every so often.
10. Small paint mixing implements from college.
11. A tiny mother of pearl bird bead that was from a necklace from my childhood. The necklace broke; I still have the bird.
12. An artists-quality pencil sharpener. An artist's Magic Rub erasure.
13. A "panic button" that looks like a computer keyboard key.
14. A hair clip with an iridescent crystal flower on the end. Acts as a worry stone.
15. An array of vintage plastic toys, probably gotten from cracker jack boxes 30 years ago.
16. Postcards of an Ansel Adams tree and graveyard. (not my only art postcards)
17. A piece of old wrapping paper with a very cool design on it.
18. A green stone heart.
19. A list of hexadecimal color codes for colors I was trying to use in my blog. bg color = 99FFCC = pale green
20. A Danish star ornament my cousin gave me when she visited there one year.
21. A small screwdriver from my grandfather's farm.
22. Small poetry wrappers from Italian Bacio candies. Sample verse: Love is a sudden revelation: a kiss is always a discovery.
23. A commemorative "Heroes" postage stamp from 2001 showing firemen and EMTs raising an American flag.
Other "art" postage stamps over the years.
24. A paper tanagram made out of card stock.
25. Cat nail clippers.
26. Finishing knobs for the coat rack I have not hung up yet.
27. A card my husband gave me for our first anniversary.
28. Several teeny stubs of fabu quality drawing pencils.
29. A small thumbdrive.
30. A small strip of artist's information from a print I framed ten years ago.
31. A seamripper.
32. A a cool illustration from an artist friend's exhibit announcement.

This is only a short list, barely scraping the surface. I could go on... but I know you're ready for me to stop, already.

* * * * *

Some of the reasons I hang onto things:

It's a cute color.
It has a clever shape or design.
It's small.
I have several of the same kind of thing and are interesting as a collection.
It reminds me of positive things in the past.
It reminds me of friends or family.
Someone gave it to me.
It is from an earlier era.
I like physically manipulating it.
I actually need and use it.

* * * * *

Some of my "purging" strategies:

Give it away--regift or give to goodwill.
Ask myself if I will every look at it again.
Ask myself if I love it, need it or use it.
Throw stuff out.
Take a picture and then throw it out.
Shred and then throw out.
Have it accidentally destroyed.
Let it get mildewed so I am more motivated to ditch it.
Put in on the curb and wait for someone to scavenge it.
Throw some things out before they get added to a pile.
Do the FlyLady 27 Fling Boogie! Find 27 things to throw away in 15 minutes.

* * * * *

Some of my "arranging" strategies:

Categorize and containerize attractively (my favorite).
Scrapbook it.
Stuff it in the closet.
Hide it away, and whenever I try to reevaluate, agonize over what to do with it.
Rearrange so that it looks more like art.
Use it more frequently.

* * * * *

However, as FlyLady says, you can't organize clutter, so if I don't use something, it gets more scrutiny.

Sometimes I bargain with myself that if I don't get rid of something, the price is that I use it more often. Appreciate what you have. And if I don't use it, *pfft!* Out it goes.

* * * * *

Spaces speak

2007-11-04T22:26:00.000-08:00

Why is that some spaces feel so good to us and others turn us off? In my experiences of house and apartment hunting, I've seen many spaces that strike me strongly.

When we first moved to (state of current residence), my parents had to rent a house for a few years. There was no center to the house; once you came in the door, the interior scattered in all directions. It never felt like there was a place to relax and settle.

When they started looking for houses again, they considered several options. Funny that I remember the duds best.

One house was nice inside, but the house felt completely exposed on the lot. It was a fairly large house, on a corner lot with little landscaping. Strangely enough, it felt as if the gaze of the entire neighborhood was focused on that one house with nothing to shield us from that gaze.

Another house was light and airy upstairs, but the bedrooms were little dungeons below ground level. It felt oppressive.

My in-laws chose their current house based on the "feel" when they first walked into the kitchen area. I find it ironic that they have something like 4000+ square feet--and their favorite part of the house is maybe an 1/8th or less of that space. They are just rattling around in the rest of the house--even the kids bedrooms are huge, like living in a warehouse--but the kitchen/dining area is full of windows and light and efficient, cozy arrangements, and that's where they spend most of their time.

In our current house, we fell in love with it just walking through it. Many people come in the front door and exclaim over how homey or how *good* it feels. It does have about the right amount of coziness. Even though it's a smaller, older house, the space just feels right. Some of that is from changes made by the previous owners. They widened a doorway between living room and dining room to line up with the fireplace. They put a full-length mirror on the door to the basement. Little things that really worked.

At the time, I had been reading about Feng Shui, and I was struck by how nicely the house fits many of the principles, how elements flowed or lined up. Later, we had a chance to talk to the owner, and it came out that they were aware of Feng Shui principles, and had even actively incorporated many of their renovations to help balance the Feng Shui in the house. I was impressed! And pleased. Because Feng Shui seems to formally create many of the same things that make a place feel good to us.

I think there must be a Feng Shui of nature too. Some places feel distasteful. Others speak to us and "make the heart sing." In our living spaces, it seems we try to recreate our ideal space. That is, if we are aware, if we have a little spatial sensitivity, if we have time and inclination, and enough animus to make it our own.

Tomorrow, maybe: arranging space to personal inclination.

The Disappearing Toast Paradox

2007-11-03T16:03:00.000-07:00

Eating dinner this evening with M, who is fighting off something. We had two kinds of soup mixed together (living dangerously, mixing two different brands of organic mushroom/vegetable barley) and toast.

He's done, but my toast is still sitting there. I take a bite and go back to my soup. He picks up my toast and takes a bite. Ordinarily I'd scream about this and he'd grin, but we nonchalantly continue trading bites until the toast is progressively shrinking. I take a bite of half of the remaining toast, put it down and wait. Will he get it? He takes a bite of half of the remainder. hehe He gets it. And still we are taking bites, half the piece disappearing with each bite. The remaining toast is ridiculously small, down to scant millimeters, but we are smiling at each other. When it's down to barely a fluff of wheat and a poppy seed, I attempt to bite half of that, and he bursts out laughing. Why? Conceptual joke! *see Zeno's.

* * * *
*Zeno's Paradox. Story as told by M and transcribed as fast as I can keep up.

As the story goes, he (Zeno) was eating a piece of bread at the beach one day, and noticed that he was able to take large bites, and he was able to eat half the loaf in a single bite. And then after he was done chewing that, he pondered for a while-- you could say that he chewed the dilemma over in his mind a little bit-- and he said in order to complete the second half of the loaf, I would have to eat half of it. So he took a bite and ate half of the remainder. And then after he finished pondering and chewing that, he said, huh, in order to finish this loaf, I would have to eat half of the remainder. ...okay?

Okay, then he did that and started to to realize he could never completely finish the loaf because he would always have to eat half of the remainder and have half left, and so he'd have to take an infinite number of bites to finish the loaf.

Now, in reality, Zeno didn't know the concept of infinity, so it was really about Achilles and the tortoise, rather than a loaf of bread, but you get the picture. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

* * * *
Which leads us to the corollary:
The Disappearing Toast Paradox. If each person bites off half the piece of toast, an infinite number of bites can be taken before one person admits it's just a crumb...

I love it when we get each other's jokes.

* * * *

I could say Bella! Bella!

2007-11-02T21:53:00.000-07:00

I've been distracted by projects, performances, and a dream I had recently. The sound track to the dream came from an old friend (who we tragically lost a few years ago) playing a recording of this old tune. So it's been living in my head the last few days, reminding me of him and other, wordless, bittersweet things, evoking sun-drenched spaces and some kind of sad yearnings.

Bei mir bist du schoen,
please let me explain
Bei mir bist du schoen
means that you're grand

Bei mir bist du schoen,
Once more I'll explain
It means that my heart's
at your command

I could say bella, bella,
even say wunderbar
Each language only helps me tell you
just how grand you are

I've tried to explain
bei mir bist du schoen
So kiss me, and
say you understand

* * * *
My favorite version is recorded as a vigorous swing tune, jazzier than the original. I've been playing it for days.
http://www.fiddlegarden.net/recordings.html

Then I had to go searching for clips. A few on YouTube, here in reverse order of age.

A slightly jazzier, modern version that I really like. They are so good!
Ariela Morgenstern, Darla Wigginton and Lara Bruckmann with Inara Morgenstern on piano.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8--9-LCJ14

Classic, but without the intensity I prefer.
The Andrew Sisters - Bei Mir Bist Di Schoen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzlfcQ6E_RE

In the original Yiddish, apparently by a famous Polish singer. Really lovely.
Leo Marjane - Bei mir bist du schön (Secunda), 1938
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gtQDdquhwI

* * * *

life experiences

2007-11-01T12:50:00.000-07:00

NaBloPoMo Nov 1st, 2007 Off t o a good start

Well, now that I'm properly warmed up (from my several days of daily posting), I think I can get into the spirit of NaBloPoMo properly. Go, November!

* * * * *

Well, one thing I have been thinking about....

I think on prejudice and how that impacts lives and distorts views. I feel a little disgruntled that my own experience tends to be discounted. Yes, I am a straight, middle-class white girl. It doesn't mean I haven't experienced pervasive hostility and prejudice. I think I do have some insight into minority experience from my own experience.

Some ways that I am or have been a minority:

I belong to a minority religion. And I'm talking something like 2% of US population, here. Nothing freaky. It has a long and respectable lineage, but living in the Bible belt, well, it's sometimes not pretty. Even among my own family, we've gotten crap. Some family weirdnesses in my extended (non-southern) family when I was a child can be attributed to the fact that my family was different, that my parents insisted on going their own way. So both my mom and dad have gotten grief from their own families; I and my sisters got the inevitable trickle down. Hell, even my husband got some grief from his family when he first started dating me (of course, they think that yoga is the devil's work, so you can see what we're working with).

Even some friends have had some weird ideas about what it means to be a UU. Sometimes I have to educate people; sometimes I brush them off. Sometimes I give them the evil eye back. Sometimes I run into some ugly assumptions, even among friends. It hurts my feelings, dammit. Some friends have made flippant remarks, and I feel like I have to set them straight. You can't throw everybody into one pot. Once I even had an uncomfortable run-in with a new member. She asked me if one of my opinions was "because I was a UU." I was irritated and snapped back that being a UU had nothing to do with my opinion. You might as well ask me if my opinion was because I was a white person. One of THOSE people. Give me a break.

Okay, enough about that. I should save some for another post, huh?

What else? Some things that impacted me strongly in my youth:

I have a strong intellectual curiosity.
I had the double whammy of being considered both very intelligent yet an under-achiever.
I have unusual coloring.
I am highly sensitive (see Raising the Sensitive Child).
My family reads. Books! *gasp*
I tend to look at things differently than other people. Well, that's a biggie. *snark*

Okay, so these don't seem so bad. But each of these added to the pile of characteristics of 'unwelcome and strange' and made my life hell as a child.

I was shunned and harassed all through school with a few respites. (It must have peaked in 4th and 8th grades because I've blocked most of it out.) Some of that was no doubt the "teasing" that "everybody" experiences. (insert sarcasm here) Huh, that's funny, because it left me with deep emotional scars that shaped and stunted three-quarters of my life, vestiges of which still haunt me today. Yes, I have talked to a therapist. More than one. Why do you think I am in such great shape these days? :) That and because of the love and support of my husband. :) We have been great for mutual healing as well as all the usual glue of a strong relationship.

One little story to illustrate the impact on my old life: When I was in high school, I had such poor self-esteem that when one of my class-mates once asked me a casual everyday question about a school project, I was knocked back on my heels in amazement. He asked *me*! Like he was asking a *normal* person! I could not believe it. It felt good, but I was in shock. Because for me, the norm was being treated like an outcast. Obviously, it made enough of an impact that I remember it to this day.

A therapist once asked me, "but why did they tease you?" (a question that infuriates me now) Who knows why, exactly? And really, lady, I don't think I need to answer for other peoples' bad behavior. Who knows WHY people act like asses? Like racists? Like homophobes? Like shits of human beings? Does it matter WHY? Do we even need to worry about motive? Maybe sometimes, but I digress...

Reflecting on many of these experiences and their impact on me gives me some sympathy for the impacts of, say, racism. People can makes you feel like shit, like you are worthless and can't do anything. No matter where you go or what you do, if people treat you like less than who you are or capable of, it's incredibly hard to stand up and feel you are lovable and capable, as one teen-pop-project called it. It takes so much more energy to accomplish anything, fighting uphill against the negative aspects of your surroundings. If my own experience left me with scars, what happens to people who are still living such pervasive circumstances every day? You get stronger or you wither... You need support from people who do not discount your experience.

And then I've noticed things that shifts my perspective again.

Such as when somebody burned a cross in a nearby community.... I was part of the white contingent in the community that helped to organize vigils and a push-back response saying no, we will not accept this racist act in our community. A pretty good cross-section of the city came, but a much smaller percentage of blacks and latinos than who live here. But we felt pretty united, those of us who were there.

There I met and talked with a local woman who I admire from online, who blogs on black, LBGT and political issues. I remember I said several times-- Things like this don't happen here. Not in *my* community (I was thinking of my region). This (this being the big ugly racist act) is NOT MY town. And she was quiet. She didn't correct me. Me, the well-meaning white liberal.

It wasn't until later from reading and thinking that I realized how shuttered that view was. Just because it hadn't happened to ME or you, recently or ever, didn't mean that other people did not experience a pervasive racism. I was chagrined to realize that yes, people in my community experience racism and prejudice, yes, All the Fucking Time. It's not just the young men in gangsta-chic; it's the young Latino mother, it's the black professional, it's the international child, it's the average person, it's us. In MY town (my experience), I don't often experience overt racism. But in my town, I need to acknowledge it. It was time for me to get my while liberal head out of my butt, sort to speak. *heavy sigh*

So there's the individual experience and there's the societal experience.

I think what saved me, what saves a lot of people, both from ones own traumatic and deadening experiences and ones understanding of others experiences, is being around others who understand, others who "get it," others who know the pain and frustration... and who have ALSO learned ways of making their way with strength and grace and patience, and even with anger and humor.

Again: You need support from people who do not discount your experience.

What I don't care for is the pushing and the shoving... after all, everyone is on their own path of experience and hopeful enlightenment (speaking non-religiously). As Michaelangelo was attributed to have said: Ancora Imparo: I'm still learning.

* * * * * *

2007-10-31T20:48:00.000-07:00

Isn't this so typical of me, running the deadline down to the wire? I think about my post all day then squeak it in at the end. It's also that I have so many choices for topics, and most of them need or deserve more thought than the blogging driveby. But on the other hand, let me let go of expectations. After all, part of NaBloPoMo is the actual posting every day. That's the main accomplishment. The quality is not necessarily the main point. Or to put it another way, to make great art, you have to be willing to make bad art. It's part of the process...

Expectation Creep

2007-10-30T19:50:00.000-07:00

Where have all the pumpkins gone? Gone to lanterns every one...
Obviously, if I really wanted to carve one that badly this year, I should have, would have made the effort much, much, much earlier. *sigh*

* * * * * *

There are things in life that are very nice to do for other people. It's nice to be generous and supportive. Sometimes we love doing those special things. Sometimes it even comes naturally, and why stifle that gift?

But then sometimes that extra gesture becomes an expected service, and there be expectations and grumblings. Oy.

A couple times, it's a sweet gesture. They love it and one gets gratitude and appreciation. Next thing you know, it's been written into your responsibilities. Don't let it happen to you.

The flip side: appreciate the generous gestures that come your way every day or every so often.

* * * * * *

NaBloPoMo. Not just a good idea: it's good for you too. hehe.
Believe that if it helps.

* * * * * *

Reading for the Chill

2007-10-29T20:35:00.000-07:00

We had the long, slow slide towards Autumn, late Summer sun slanting and brilliant, still hot and dry. Then I turn around and it's Fall. It's brisk. The cats are huddled in search of warmth because I haven't turned on the heat yet. They creep into my lap at any opportunity. I walk about feeling cold because I automatically put on a short-sleeved shirt and neglect a sweater.

But let's savor this cool air for a while yet. I bring out another fluffy layer of fleece, and the cats creep onto it and burrow in. I put on a turtleneck, a fleece layer, my fleece vest. I'm comfortable inside, pleasantly cool. The house makes little creaks of adjustment as the sun warms the roof. I make some hot chocolate, glad that I recently replenished my supply before the cold hit--and contemplate plans for the next month, the season before the New Year. I make soup. I work in the office. I go outside to sample the air and check the state of the yard.

But the first freeze is coming on. I know that. I spent some of my afternoon stripping the garden of any useable fruit or herb; some things do not tolerate the cold at all. The last of the basil must be taken in or it'll be dead by morning. The last few pitiful green tomatoes hang hiding in the leaves. I can't decide whether they are worth saving. I leave them to their fate.

Then at last, it's evening. After a dinner of soup and late-season pesto, I know it's time. It's still above 60 inside, but I turn the thermostat down to 70 and turn on the heat. I tilt my head to catch the faint sounds of the furnace perking to life. A raccoon (it can only be a raccoon-no possum or squirrel runs that heavy) goes running across the roof. And the cats stretch and blink. It's still cool inside, but the extra edge of chill gradually dissipates. At last, it's really Fall! Time to cozy in.

Fright

2007-10-28T19:00:00.000-07:00

Last week, we finally got some rain. More than just a little drizzle; a whole two-three days of washing, drenching rain. After weeks and months of drought, it was absolutely wonderful. A little slick after those months of no rain, but tolerable.

Some days later, I heard about my sister's accident. She had been on her way to work, flying down a four lane county highway in the middle of one of those downpours when she hit a rise and went airborne. My heart about stopped to hear my husband's voice when he reacted to this news on the phone. Then I relaxed a little because I could hear in his voice that it wasn't as tragic as it could have been.

She went airborne, she said, and off the road and down a 5 foot embankment. Thank god the car was still pointed forward.

It's a complete miracle that she missed the telephone pole that was in her path. (I think my heart just stopped again imagining it.) Although she was out of control, she was somehow able to wrench the steering wheel enough to miss the looming deathtrap and go flying down another 80 feet or so, coming to rest on the muddy grassy roadside... It's an additional miracle because trying to effectively steer on a slippery grassy surface is a slim hope indeed.

I've had my unfortunate share of slow-motion oh-shit incidences, the last, worst, one ten years ago. As she was telling me about the telephone pole, I could see it in my mind... the moment when you realize you've made a serious miscalculation, the scariness of the near miss, the looming, the rattling and jolting as you fight for control as the grass, brush, poles and your life slashes by, probably in slow-motion as these things tend to go. Even the tow-truck driver remarked on her luckiness. Luckiness as far as these things go, that is. No other vehicle was involved. The car is little rattled up and needs work, but she's fine.

But. She's been doing a lot of thinking and soul-searching since then. How much she's driving to work... the way the family has to travel... her whole life flashing before her eyes... what she should have, might have, could have done. She didn't say so, but I thought of the potential for leaving her family ripped to shreds by her loss, and it makes it hard to breathe.

This week, I don't have to go to a haunted house to get a serious fright. All I have to do is think of my young niece ever losing her mother and what that would do to that little girl we love... I just turn cold inside.

* * * * * * *

NaBloPoMo 2007

2007-10-27T19:05:00.000-07:00

Yeah, that's it. National Blog Posting Month.

Here are a couple badge linkies that'll I've leave here while I try to figure out how to post them on my template. Oh me of little techno savvy...

In Training for ... that November thing

2007-10-27T15:57:00.000-07:00

Is it almost November again already? This year has flown by. Almost time for the NoNaBloMo. Or is that the NaMoBloPo? MoBloNoPo? ShaNaNaNaPoMoBloMo? Okay, whatever the hell the acronym is!

Well, as the concept is that I "vow" to write/post an entry every day of the month of November, and I am woefully out of blogging shape, I had the idea of get back into training, sort to speak. Do a few reps so that when it comes time for November, I don't actually drag myself around in agony of posting every. day. Oh, the pain.

I have started a list of ideas to blog about, so hopefully I won't choke halfway through the month. It will get a little tricky around T/Ging since we'll be traveling away from home and therefor less able to log on to post.

So here we go. As in any new (exercise) regime, I'll start slowly and gently.

Hup. (breathe)

Okay, just a little.

* * * * * * *

Last month we looked at a certain jam-packed weekend and decided to blow it all off and do something for ourselves. Instead of going to a wedding and several other things, we took a camping and hiking vacation for ourselves to one of our favorite spots for some "couple time." Now why do I start feeling so guilty about that afterwards?

We had many options, ya know. There was an annual getaway weekend that we would have loved to attend, and several other small events including a renewal of vows reception of a couple we are friendly with at church. Hanging over this all was the wedding we'd been informed last Summer to "save the date" for, but had not heard about since. One of *those* weekends.

Well, we started evaluating options and obligations. We sighed over missing this one getaway. This year's talent was sure to be fun and interesting, some people I hadn't seen in a while, but early on, I'd already had been telling people we'd have to miss it because of this wedding... which we still had not been invited to.

At some point, we talked about getting in some camping in our favorite spot in a nearby state before the weather got too cold. The best weekend to go would be one in which M had an extra day in his weekend, one in which we could be unhurried, one in which we could be away from our regular lives to relax, one which was... you guessed it, this same weekend of the wedding to which we had not been invited. Of course, the event was smack in the middle of the long weekend.... you can see our dilemma.

The more we looked at the calendar, the more intense our yearning. If we waited too late in the year, it would be much colder, much busier. Finally, my husband made a telling remark. "You know, do we even *know* we are getting an invitation to this wedding?" he asked. "We haven't heard from them. ANd even if we do, we are not even really close to them. I think we should go to ____." I was both ecstatic and flabbergasted. I grilled him to make sure he wasn't acquiescing just to please me. I had been half-convinced that M's sense of social obligation would dictate that we hold open this time for, essentially, friends of friends. I was wrong. He really wanted us to go away.

So, that's what we did. Ironically, just before we made camping reservations, we received the invite in the mail... barely three weeks before the event. We looked at it and said, "too bad" and sent our regrets. We drove, we camped, we hiked ourselves halfway into the ground, we snuggled and talked. We enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. It was great couple time.

Then of course, we come home to face social pressure. Some "friends" can't imagine that anyone would chose to do anything differently than they would. Some people would pity us for missing the event of the century. Some people very nosy and hurt that they did not see us there... As if so goes the crowd, so goes us peripheral acquaintances.

I don't want to be a hanger-oner at an event for people we barely know, even if "all" of our friends would be there. I don't want to give up opportunities for M and I to do the things we've loved to do together since we were barely in a relationship.

But this is all a moot point, M says. We did the right thing. We don't need to make justifications. It was a wonderful weekend together. We don't need to talk about it further, he says.

And he's right. But still I feel guilty. As if someone who went out of their way to give us an invitation, to include us, should not be turned down, even if it's not what *we* want to do. What? I should feel guilty for making my own choices? Too much tangled up in that.

Whew. Enough heavy lifting for one day. Ow. Better go stretch...

* * * * * * *

Goodbye Lisa, hello daughter.

2007-10-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

* * * * *

I've been following the comic Funky Winkerbean. http://funkywinkerbean.com/ It's interesting how a fictious comic can affect us so strongly at times. When I saw Bull and Linda bringing home their (Asian/adopted) daughter, I cheered and whooped and rejoiced as if they were my own frends! When Lisa was dying, I shed tears every day. I mourned for her, and for her husband and family... even for myself, sorrows past and the inevitable sorrows to come.

Something about the medium creates a space for us to tap into deeper feelings. Even if it's not personally connected to us, much less "real," the themes are meaningful, showing us universal joys and sorrows.

* * * * *

Regarding The Long Wait, I saw this wonderful statement from Penguin on Rumor Queen. Sometimes people can be really thoughtless about questioning our wait. It's hard to respond appropriately when we ourselves are having a hard time with that same long wait! It's good to have postive models for responding, so thank you Penguin.

She says, Quote:

When people ask questions or make statements that intentionally or unintentionally undermine our commitment to our second adoption, we say, "As you can imagine, the long wait is very disappointing to us, so we could use all of the encouragement and support you could possibly muster to support us during this difficult time. Thank you for any kind thoughts you have." I think most people don't know how we feel and once given a bit of direction, provide a ton of support.

Yea, penguin! :) No doubt, I will have opportunity to use that line of response...

* * * * *

Grace of State of Grace asked recently, "So, I ask you, mah dollins, what keeps you going?" Hmmm. What does keep me going? Especially with my tendancy to discouragement. My response:

My Sweetie for sure. But for those occasions when that's not working, it comes down to putting one foot in front of the other, and feeling myself as one small piece of an unimaginably immense pattern, knowing I can't fall out of the pattern.

Also, feeling that I can help and encourage people in the world--as a teacher, mostly. I'm told it's a gift, but it's as much for me. If all else fails, music will comfort me, keep me grounded and help me release fear and move forward.

... I suppose that's true with everything in my life...

* * * * *

Cultural Interpretation 1

2007-09-25T22:04:00.000-07:00

* * * * * *

Hey, did you hear about the C-gov't wanting to reduce air pollution for the Olympics by closing down scads of industry and industrial plants starting now? (sorry, no link for this, either)

I think this is throwing an inadequate, temporary solution to a complex problem. Sad to say, it also makes it more credible to me that C would do something like hold back the flow of adoptions to look good during the Olympics.

...

So I shared this thought with a non-AP friend as one reason for the current slowdown, and she was completely thrown and started questioning me: Why would they do that?? I found myself too completely wearied with the complexity of the situation to explain thoroughly. I don't really know, myself, after all. But also, I was chagrined to find myself in the position of trying to explain C cultural values to an American. It was exhausting, partly because this friend doesn't understand why anyone would NOT be like an "average American" (or what she imagines that to be--haha!), so she is exasperated by the simplest difference and demands to know why, why why. ("Saving face" is obviously a term more than an actual concept for her at this point.)

We have had this dynamic for as long as I can remember (decades). It's not as if she has not had plenty of exposure to other cultures; we both have. But she still reacts to other ways of doing/thinking about something (anything) with bafflement. She seems to have a failure of imagination as to why anyone would do something differently than she herself would. The consistent refrain is, "Why on earth would they want to do *that*?!" And then, often, she laughs because she finds it too ridiculous to be believed even with explanation, which I sometimes find offensive. Even with my own, mundanely (or not so mundanely) American life, I've had to explain myself at times. Well, *many* times in fact, since I am outside the mainstream on many issues and factors! But she has learned to accept my differences from her own upbringing, and our friendship has survived numerous shifts, although in some ways we are still so different.

My friend's saving grace is that she is both open-hearted and very open about her thoughts, and wants to know about others instead of simply shutting out anybody different. So often, I can "just" explain my perspective and understanding, and once (if) she gets it, it's in the clear. She may not understand it or agree/accept it, but she'll at least not argue its existence! Heh!

I'm afraid, though, that it may be a prevalent, particularly American mindset. It's been my experience that most Americans are intrigued by but not really open to other cultures. (Or sometimes threatened by the differences--There is of course a continuum to either side of that which makes things very interesting!) And I'm tired just thinking about having to explain not only myself but the whole of C culture to other Americans, especially those not really open to other cultures. (To the extent that I myself understand C culture, of course--ha.) So do I get to be a cultural interpreter by dint of becoming an international-adoptive-parent? It would seem so. I've done this in the past, trying to moderate other's perspectives based on my own education and experience, but it's an imperfect interpretation. I'm still learning, myself. And is the listener even open to alternate ideas and cultural values at all? *sound of head bashing against brick wall*

* * * * * *

Ice cream touching

2007-09-25T19:55:00.000-07:00

Dooce recently wrote about Leta's reaction to being offered ice cream *with* M&Ms on top. It was not what many of us would expect.

Dooce concludes:
"I don’t remember how long it took us to calm her down, to assure her than an M&M would never touch her ice cream, but she didn’t stop panicking until I promised her, gave her my solemn word that under no circumstances would I EVER again suggest something so magnificent."

http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/09_24_2007.html

M&Ms touching the ice cream? Oh the horror! Kee hee! I predict that someday Leta will grow out of this with a vengeance. :) Then it will be all toppings smushed into the ice cream all the time...

Reminds me of when we were little, adding more and more homemade chocolate syrup to vanilla ice cream and spending more time mixing it vigorously, watching the pretty chocolate swirls (and the ice cream gradually turn color) as it melted together, than actually eating it. I'm sure we thoroughly exasperated my mother, letting it melt so we could mix it before we ate it!

My mother, though, also introduced me to the concept of planned indulgence. Whenever she made chocolate syrup, we'd start with a bowl of ice cream, sliced bananas and syrup. Inevitably, we'd be left with "too much" ice cream or syrup left in the bowl, and the only thing to do was to say "oh no!" and even it out to start another round. ... Whereupon, no doubt, there would be "too much" of the other. "Oh no!" lol This could go on for sometime until we were stuffed... It probably goes without saying that my mother introduced me to obsessive eating of chocolate as well.

Oy. I might have to blog about this (she said to herself). :) So here it is.

* * * * *

Me and My Krazy

2007-09-10T09:30:00.000-07:00

Figlet asked about Krazy. Everybody has one. So what's your's, she asked.

Hmmm. Probably that I find this an interesting task... Yes, to spend hours thinking of exactly what my Krazy is. I like it when people ask me about myself. heh :)

I'm very private (to the point of social anxiety on occasion), but I like talking about myself. Go figure! I love filling out surveys, but then I'm too privacy-conscious to actually send them in. Of course, that's why I have a blog! Ha ha ha! It makes no sense at all.

I am very picky about my private space. I like having people over, but after a few hours, I need them to go home and leave me alone. I like my friends, but in manageable doses. And please don't touch me unless we have mutually agreed upon a hugging relationship. Don't hang on my arm or--god forbid!--pet my hair, or I will snarl at you.

I am super sensitive to any and all stimulus. Light, sound, touch, temperature, texture, scent, flavor, conversation. I thrive on the stimulation, and then it gets too much and I ask them to all go home. haha

I like finding things at thriftshops or rescuing old things. I like semi-antiques, things with character. In fact, as a former artist, I am always collecting bits of paper or design, scraps of color, cool little things. I do things like take pictures of interesting light effects and write down things stories about things that happen. Meanwhile, I am fighting the other direction, trying to purge all the junk I end up collecting. It's that whole love-hate of stimulus thing. I think as I get older, I am streamlining what I keep, and thank goodness for that.

I get a little obsessive about topics that interest me, and spend a lot of time reading and doing research (hellooo China) and learning stuff and marveling about how interesting it all is. Some people find it weird to enthuse and learn stuff. I think it's normal.

Oh, and I have this thing about being considerate, although it may not be obvious from the way I grouse about other people. I am sensitive to feelings and nuances. I notice when other people are trying to cross the street or to get by or to make nice, OR feeling overwhelmed, and I'm scandalized when other people are oblivious to that and don't respond. It feels so rude to ignore those subtle signals. Nevermind that others sometimes don't even notice! :) It's just an internal standard of how to "do right" by other people. Of course, there can be a fine line between being considerate versus being a doormat. Being subjected to any attempted manipulation reeeeally pisses me off.

Oh, and then there's ice cream. Mmm, ice cream.

(crossposted to Figlet)

2007-08-30T16:00:00.000-07:00

I found a neat Chinese Culture website by the University of Washington that's very friendly to the beginner to Chinese culture. They call it "A Visual Sourcebook for Chinese Civilization."

http://depts.washington.edu/chinaciv/contents.htm

The website has an array of topic headings, and each branches off into related aspects, yet the presentation of information is not overwhelming. It gives examples and leads you to compare and contrast and notice pertinent details. Really cool. I am always tucking away cultural ideas to share with my daughter so that she is more familiar with Chinese concepts and values, as well as it being part of my own cultural education.

I spent some time under Buddhism, mostly looking at the symbols used in historical art. Now I can discern the differences between images of the Buddha, Bodhisattvas who are enlightened, compassionate beings devoted to saving suffering beings in the world, Gods of Strength who fight evil forces in the world, and Apsaras or heavenly beings, looking much like angles to western eyes. Also, I learned a little about Guan Yin, the Chinese Goddess of Mercy, and about how these depictions changed historically over time. Yes, I am an art geek. :)

Under urban temples, the website gives us a tour of the Fayuan Temple in Beijing. To paraphrase from the website, it was first completed in the late 7th century during the Tang. Over the centuries it has endured destruction by fire, earthquake and war, and has been rebuilt as often. It is still in use today.
http://depts.washington.edu/chinaciv/bud/5temwood.htm

I've also perused maps & geography. I'm starting to learn more.
http://depts.washington.edu/chinaciv/geo/land.htm

The clothing section is also quite interesting. In includes a picture of Mao as a handsome young man. Who knew! :) No doubt the charisma was evident early.
http://depts.washington.edu/chinaciv/clothing/clotweb.htm

The section on gardens is also pretty cool. I have not read all of it yet, but I enjoyed this photo tour of the Garden of the Master of Nets in Suzhou, Jiangsu province, a "Chinese scholar's garden."
http://depts.washington.edu/chinaciv/home/3wangshy.htm

The website notes that this garden is "one of the smallest (at little more than one acre) yet considered one of the best designed and most elegant of the private gardens still extant."

This is really whetting my appetite to see China!

The other week I saw one of those travel sections in the Sunday paper talking about China. I was struck by the desire to go to China just to see it! That would be so cool! Not like we have the money to go galavanting about overseas right now, but wouldn't it be lovely? I really like the idea of seeing China both before and after we receive our daughter.

* * * * * *

On another note, I ran into a man with two young Chinese daughters in the library the other day. Awwww. No, I didn't stare, but I was sooo jealous. :) I don't think we'll be able to have a second daughter, the wait being as arduous as it is. Um, is it too soon to apply for a second child before we get the first? hehe I am only half joking. I think we can start the process, but can't resubmit until our first has been home a year.

* * * * * *

On another note, there was a Chinese woman in one of my classes recently. I was really very curious to get to know her, but a little shy about it. I want to know more (More what? I dunno, how people relate, what her life has been like as an immigrant the last couple decades... ), but I know it's too much to ask someone to be the representative cultural expert. She seemed like an interesting person (not merely because of her Chinese-ness). I'm worried about making mistakes and inadvertently offending someone, but then, I am shy enough about meeting other people of my own home culture!

On the other hand, this class was talking about multi-cultural values and issues and indeed only half of the people in class were American-born! Hey, if I can talk to the Brazilians, I can certainly talk to the Chinese. :) We did chat a little during the get-to-know-you part of the session. Also, I'm always interested to meet people from other cultures, so maybe if I see her again, I will talk to her more.

I see these kind of cultural opportunities all over the place. Some cost money, others just time and personal perseverance, not to mention the humility to consider another culture with all its core differences. And when getting to know a person, the need to consider each person as an individual and not merely as the classic representative of their culture and any attendant stereotypes (the big no-no in the multi-cultural world). I don't want to be a Chinese culture collector (or as Lindsey would say, a hoarder); I just want to gain a better perspective. But yeah, I am also intrigued.

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Baby-Equipment-Clutter: Only The Beginning

2007-08-29T11:09:00.000-07:00

Thriftshop Finds, Aug 2007

I've been finally taking more stuff to the local thrifts shops. And there's lots more to go. One little/big box of junk at a time... It feels good, and there is a noticeable difference in the house. Yeah for Flylady! ( See: Flylady.net ) I <3 Flylady.

So anyway, I was over at one of my favorite thriftshopes recently and saw/scored several kid items:

1. A little drawing table.

Brightly colored plastic with cup holders and storage under the drawing surface/lid. Next to one of those big plastic easels. Actually, I was undecided enough that I did not pursue this, but I might got back and see if it's still there (not likely that it is, though).

2. A baby gate.

It's one of those that you expand and then then push a little metal bracket into a slot along the wooden brace to yes, brace it in place. It seemed in good condition. After I brought it home, I tried it out on the extra wide doorway to our kitchen for a while. Seems okay, not fabulous. It might get knocked down under some pressure. Could be a good stop-gap piece, though. M and I both got tired of walking over it after a while. I guess we will have to practice our hurdling technique for later? hehe

3. Am extra-wide stroller by Evenflo. (The best stroller among several there.)

It looks like a jogging stroller with double front wheels that turn on a quarter. At the store, I wheeled it around a bit and it seemed pretty sturdy and facile. It was in good condition although the wheels showed some wear. I had a hard time figuring out the folding mechanism. Finally, by fussing around with it, it suddenly folded down in an unexpected way.

Okay, so it folds! I'll take it! I figured that even if we ultimately ended up getting different items that the cash outlay was not excessive here. Only about 11 bucks. It seemed like a good gamble.

It was not until I got it home that it occurred to me to try to *un*fold the thing. Oops. Much muttering, sighing and cursing ensued. Online was no help in figuring out the mechanism. All I got there were people complaining about this or that Evenflo stroller. Double oops! More cursing and sighing. Eventually, my patient husband came out to see if he could figure out the thing. Yeah for my troubleshooter!

Yah, it seems there is a trick to it... Some additional latch thingie on the side to release. Now it's back up and running, sort to speak. I spent some time poking around and seeing how things adjusted. I think it's supposed to recline also but haven't figured out that piece of it. I still like the stroller other than the aggravation of the folding/unfolding, so I guess we'll keep it around unless/until another option becomes necessary. Plus, the cat boys love it! One after the other had to sit in the prime spot. They looked very happy. I will worry about stroller competition with its rightful owner (our child) later.

The only real downside now is that it is a hulking piece of equipment! I had not thought about what kind of space it would take up in our little house. This is the beginning of the end, isn't it? Welcome to baby-equipment-clutter-hell! *smiles brightly*

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Books and Other Thoughts, August 2007

2007-08-21T21:16:00.000-07:00

I have loads of random mis-matched snippets, m'dears. Bite-sized, fun-sized. (Have I been reading too much mimi smartypants? Why, yes I have! hehe :))

* * * * * * *

I recently made an effort to list the adoption- , attachment-, learning- and China-related books I have been wanting to read. That's partly because there are SO MANY that I cannot keep them all straight in my head long enough to find them. So when I read good reviews (eg several useful reviews from Rumor Queen recently), I write 'em down. And given that I would like to stretch our dollars to maximum effect (and not just buy everything in sight), I have started looking for titles at our local library first. I was somehow surprized that they actually have many of the titles I am looking for! I requested one book and found a couple others.

Two adoption/identity-related books I've started reading:

In Their Own Voices: Transracial Adoptees Tell Their Stories by Rita J. Simon and Rhonda M. Roorda. and

Inside Transracial Adoption: Strength-based, culture-sensitizing parent strategies for inter-country or domestic adoptive families that don't "match" by Gail Steinberg and Beth Hall

* * *

ITOV consists mostly of a series of in-depth telephone interviews with transracial adoptees (I guess that's the term) about their experiences growing up and addressing their cultural and racial identity. As I work my way through the book, I periodically find a statement that hits me as good-advice-to-remember, and want to write it down. I started a file to collect some of these, but it quickly became tedious. I wanted to absorb the stories, not just take text-book notes. :) Maybe later.

The interviews are quite interesting. So far, most of the stories have been of racially-black or mixed children. There should be some of Asian children, but I haven't seen them yet.

One core idea that screams out is how important it is for the adoptive parents to make a *conscious effort* to expose their child to their birth culture in order that they have a smoother path to a coherant self-identity. Simply raising the child as if they were "white like them" typically leads to pain and confusion. :(

At least one story is very sad for the lack of cultural support which contributes heavily to the child's alienation from both her home and birth cultures. But it's also true that this same child lived in a small town in the midwest (Indiana or Illinois) where I know from my own experience (!!) is often NOT conducive to open discussion of uncomfortable topics! Witness my own in-laws who try to ignore uncomfortable or merely unusual situations out of existance!
So this poor child is both still quite young and Mid-Western, still trying to find her way and be accepted by *somebody*, in prime condition to be sucked into a cult or other abusive organization... Her attempts thus far to connect with her own racial/cultural identity have been met with both subtle and frank disapproval and discomfort from her parents... and some derision from others of her racial group for her awkwardness. So at the time of the interview, she was going to college (persisting although neither parent had gone to college themselves), and trying to make opportunities for herself. She seems to be fighting an uphill battle for her core self, not the least of which is needing to learn to push ahead despite her parents' need to push her down so that she doesn't make them uncomfortable. (! My God, I am not even kidding.) I'm inclined to think that, although her parents had fostered dozens of foster kids of various ethnicities over the years, that they were the wrong people to actually adopt a minority-race baby... :(

That one is sad. But there are other stories that are rather inspiring, in terms of how the parents being open, frank, and giving their child ample exposure to their birth race/culture. Those parents who make a strong consistent effort to clearly and openly address identity seem to raise self-confident and happy children... Quite interesting.

* * *

ITRA is also quite interesting! In fact, as soon as I picked it up to skim it and peruse the table of contents, I became convinced that I would have to buy this in the future. It looks like it has very practical strategies for helping ones child and family keep up with the issues of families with "unmatched" ethnic identities.

One thing I have learned already (from skimming), is that if someone is rude towards or prejudiced against one's child or family, the first important thing is to take care of your child's needs *first*, rather than trying to respond to the rude person. It may be that the person does not get a response, but the family provides a united front of solidarity.

At the same time, it is also vitally important to not tolerate ANY instance of racism or subtle racist attitude to create the supportive environment for your child(ren). If somebody is making a hurtful or thoughtlessly racist remark, jokingly or merely offhandedly, call them on it! Respectfully and straightforwardly, but firmly. I'm sure I'll have some quotes later...

The book acknowledges the balance the parents must strike encouraging both bonding/attachment and differentiation. Lots of interesting, very practical, things to think about. I'll write more about my impressions as I read deeper, but even at this superficial level, I am very impressed with this book. Looks like one for our own library.

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* * * * * * *

We've been slowly de-cluttering in preparation for serious baby-proofing the house. And just in time, Clutter Girl has some useful and inspiring Babyproofing Reviews here: (Updated to show URL. Sorry about that.)

http://cluttergirl.typepad.com/founding_a_family_in_clut/2007/08/babyproofing-re.html

Many cool items I will no doubt acquire eventually. Things I had never even thought of needing, like fridge and toilet locks! I probably need to start a list of *that* too, items needed/wanted, so that I can space them out and avoid killing our budget.

* * * * * *

On the decluttering side, I've been greatly enjoying FLYlady's website and email services. I can't rave enough about her! Some of her sayings:

Progress, not perfection.

Housework done imperfectly will still bless your family.

You can do anything for 15 minutes.

You are not behind! Jump in where you are!

hee hee! It's like being in training to be an efficient parent. At least, that's how I'm thinking of it. A chance to develop better habits and routines so that we don't descend into complete and utter chaos (or CHAOS) once our daughter arrives. Yeah, not complete and utter chaos, just minor sleepless chaos. :)

So far, I have inspired one friend and one sister, and inspired even my *husband* (!!!) to build better care-taking routines. Abso-luely-freakin-amazing, that. :) I am still taking baby steps with it, so even if I backslide a little, I still have a core set of routines that help keep me going until I can jump back in.

I can't convince you if you are not in the place to appreciate her warm wisdom. But it you *are* interested in a fun and supportive system for housework and life, check it out. :) Cool stuff for SHEs (Side-tracked Home Executives) like myself. And more fun than you would expect...

* * * * * *

Oh yes.

I think I said that I have started joining all kinds of LID and agency groups.

I am staying relatively quiet until I figure out if/when I have something to ask/say. Or until/if there is any topic of interest to read about... But I almost always see a few waiting PAPs (potential adoptive parents) speculating about the wait times, but *frequently* being clueless about the wait situation, sometimes spectacularly so. There are too too many PAPs for which the mere thought of a 3+ year wait is shocking news. :(

I am somehow shocked that some PAPs are just now getting wind of the wait times. And I am disgusted to hear that some agencies are still telling people in my LID month that they can expect to be home by something like the end of 2008!!! Which is just insanely unlikely. It would take a miracle for things to speed up to that degree. 'Taint likely. And hugely unfair to the families who are still expecting 18-22 months. :(

So I haven't decided how, if at all, to break current "news" to such uninformed (rather, mis-informed) PAPs. While I think about it (and laugh somewhat bitterly about their naivety), someone else steps in and does the brave deed of informing them of the true situation. :( How hard and unbelievable it must be to get smacked with this information all at once. We at least were disappointed gradually. We have had time to adjust our expectations.

If I had not found info on the web but relied only on my agency to tell me accurate expectations, I'd be at some point angrily disappointed. I know the agencies want to put a good face on it, but geez. I don't see how they can avoid hoards of angry clients as the sh*t starts hitting the fan more publicly.

I know this is long and disgruntled, but all I wanted to say is--there are still people who have not gotten the secret memo. :( And I have mixed feelings about seeing that. It's like a train wreck. I wince, but I can't quite look away.

* * * * * *

On a completely different note, I have been recently reading about some people undertaking the massive project of "ripping" their music CDs to digital storage. I am not ready to join to MP3 / iP0d crowd (I like listening to speakers that are *not* stuck in my ears, thank you), but I can see it coming. CDs are on their way to being *gasp* obsolete! Reading some of this recently (people converting vast collections into various mediums and storages, trying to figure what to do with the cases and liner notes with attendant imagery), I experienced a shiver of foreshadowing.

Yes, I still have stacks and stacks of cassette tapes that I rarely ever listen to any more (unless I am traveling). Yes, I still have record albums that I can't listen to any more for excess of dust and lack of turntable.

So I have already experienced the frustration of having things go obsolete and/or madly transferring audio and visual data onto ever-improving/changing storage systems. I have already run through the sequence of big 5" floppy to small 3.5" floppy, to zip discs to CDs to external storage to thumbdrives to... ? So I suddenly realized that someday my CD collection will be obsolete and thus neglected! Nooooo...

I remember buying my first two CDs ever: the Beatles' Sergeant Pepper's album as a gift for my then-boyfriend and Paul Simon's Graceland album for myself. Heck, I remember the first LP I ever bought (that's a long-playing record for you young whipper-snappers), which was The Best of The Eagles. Which I now have on CD. (heh) Where will it end????

Although I tend to run ahead of the curve on numerous societal trends, I adopt new popular technology mostly kicking and screaming, or at least groaning and complaining. I am not looking forward to the eventual conversion. *sigh*

Meanwhile, I'll enjoy my current fab music CD collection. Life is good. :) And no, it's not the cliche.

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Concurrent Thoughts

2007-08-10T14:35:00.000-07:00

* * * * *

As the wait becomes more and more firmly pegged into 3-years-and-counting territory, I find myself fantasizing about a concurrent adoption. It seems agonizing to wait for another nearly 4 years (maybe), which is only a fraction of the past 9 years that we have been thinking of having children, but still!

My mind cannot quite reconcile with another adoption as reality though. (Reading back on this, I think--whaat? Why did I write that? It's just that there are many conflicting factors that don't make that an easy choice.) At least not yet, anyway. Several reasons. If we do adopt, say, domestically, I would want to continue with the original China adoption. But then who travels to China and who stays home with our other little one? Would it be easier for me to go? (I'll probably know more Chinese than my husband) But wouldn't that be hard on our other child to be separated from their mother? Or do we drag that child to China as well? Yikes! Then we'd need another helper to come with us, and not sure who I'd want that to be (not my mother).

Other considerations:

I am not wanting to adopt from another country. I just cannot get excited about it. (Although that could change... I just don't feel it right now.) Strange that I feel so strongly about China! Maybe I am so invested in that culture and language that I cannot envision the energy and enthusiasm for another country.

Meanwhile, even if we did want to look at domestic adoption more seriously, we'd have to take on the whole mess of being chosen as parents. Part of me digs in my heels and refuses to take part in that kind of competition. I am very uncomfortable with having to "present" ourselves to be acceptable with a birth-mother individual, and angry at the anticipated judgments. I don't want to have to hear how we've been turned down by this or that person, and my reaction is to take us out of the pageant to begin with.
My fantasy is that a child will need a home and we will be in line to be considered... Like one doctor's son who fell into their lap. Like another friend who is currently waiting to see if a baby's extended family wants them... I know this is pure fantasy, but there it is. We'd still have to put out the word somewhere. Maybe we could talk to our home study agency and let that be known, although we have NOT signed on with them for any kind of placement, you understand, so we might have to pay more money for further evaluation and representation... Although that IS a possibility, IF, and big if, they would allow concurrent adoptions... I haven't even looked into this seriously, but it's one avenue.

From what I have heard, it's the home agencies more than the CCAA who does not want/allow concurrent adoptions. So much would depend on how this other agency views that. Do I need to convince them that there's no way that we would be placed with a Chinese child within the next two-three years? Because another child would have to be at least a year old (and home with us at least a year) at the time of our China match...

Okay, and lastly, what about the expense of it all? What would it cost us to start up a concurrent adoption? More agency fees since our first agency is China only. We'd probably need another home study. At least our house is a little cleaner than during the first one! haha! We have been de-cluttering the place after years. But I don't think we'd be able to afford paying medical expenses for a pregnant birth mother. We're not *that* well off, and we're already a little unhappily stretched because of the first adoption expenses. Then on top of that, part of our current plan is for me to work more the next couple years to bolster our savings. So by adding another child, does that just blow that plan out of the water?

Anyway, I'm just thinkin'. M and I have already talked a little, not in any kind of Big Talk way, but more like checking in with each other and sharing ideas. We've agreed that if it looks like the wait will go much beyond 3 years, then we'd definitely be up for looking at other, concurrent, adoptions. We are not ready to go all gung ho for another adoption right this very instant. But the wait news never gets any better. I know it's been only 4 months or so since we have been LID, but the news, my dears, is very bad. We keep hanging on, but yes, I am looking at other options.

On another note, I have been telling all friends and family who know about our China adoption plans that the wait will take at least 3 years... Most recently I told this to a good friend who was instrumental in making us look at China adoption more seriously. I was quite surprised when she jumped in and made reassuring noises. She sounded almost defensive. It hadn't even occurred to me until then that she might be worried to be blamed for getting into this interminable wait. It's true that if she had not given us so much good information about our agency that we might have gone down a different route; that's the truth. But now that we are here, we are still committed to China adoption. I'm just looking at the wait and looking for additional options.

* * * * * *

Recent Kim Wong Keltner Books Read

2007-08-07T12:53:00.000-07:00

Buddha Baby And The Dim Sum of All Things by Kim Wong Keltner

I recently finished Kim Wong Keltner's second novel, Buddha Baby. I earlier read her first, The Dim Sum of All Things. Here are some of my thoughts in no particular order, edited only lightly.

In the first book, her protagonist, Lindsey Owyang, is a classic disassociated ABC or American Born Chinese. Her grandparents immigrated, but she and her parents are fully enveloped in American culture. While Lindsey is occupied with her dull clerical jobs and various boys that she carries on with but does not let get too close, she nurtures her long-time Hello Kitty! obsession and a fractured understanding of where she fits in the cultural scheme of things. On one hand, she is as American as Spaghetti-os, but as Chinese as ... ? okay, Dim Sum.

Her understanding of Chinese culture is missing huge gaps and she recognizes that, but her parents don't seem to have any interest in helping her get a handle on it, they themselves enscounced in the "average" American lifestyle and advise her "better leave it alone." Her grandparents seem both a link back to Chinese culture, and an obstacle in the huge gap between their outlooks. Lindsey is familiar with their Chinese quirks, but not understanding or wholly sympathetic. She seems fully comfortable in neither culture. She goes on errands into China Town for her grandparents, but she cringes away from anyone addressing her in Chinese (Cantonese in this case) since she has only rudimentary understanding of that language. And she hides her full Hello Kitty! obsession for fear of being pegged as a stereotypical Chinese girl. Her brother exhibits no interest in being anything other than Americanized.

At one point in the book, when she is visiting family in China, she gazes with wonderment on a scroll that a distant relative has written her family members' names--recognizing her own name written in Chinese even if the rest is a mystery to her.

The book explores the experience of awakening to ones expanding cultural identity. She seems to track down clues to her Chinese-ness while developing her own theories. It seems to say that no matter how American she may feel, her outer appearance as an Asian and her inner restlessness--not knowing her family's culture--point her towards a more complex reality.

One concept that came up in her first book is the idea of an Asian Horder. According to Lindsey, this is a person, often male but not always, who fetishizes Asian culture, valuing things for what they represent rather than for themselves. This is the person who is relentlessly drawn to collecting Asian items, including people! Hence: The Hoarder of All Things Asian. Gak!

Lindsey has learned to recognize the air of someone drawn to her exotic demeanor and what they imagine she represents (sometimes as a cultural expert), and she performs evasive maneuvers to elude their slimy attention. Must Possess Asian Thing! This really struck home with me (having experienced some of that from a different direction! Can you say sweet, modest, naiive girl?), and made me examine my own tendencies. Do I want to collect the trappings of Asian culture for the kitsch or collectableness of it? Gak! I sure hope not!!

I am relieved that I don't seem to want to adopt from China because I want an exotic baby; I just want a baby, period! But this concept of a Horder is a warning to avoid viewing culture as a fashion statement of any kind, much less as a collectable. Just because you have the trappings does not mean you are living that culture! It also encourages me to consider what aspects of Chinese culture will be the most useful and meaningful for my daughter in her life. What can I respectfully convey? it's a dilemma. .... Lots more to contemplate....

Anyway, back to the books.

Lindsey gets cultural inquiries from both directions, from random white people wanting her to explain the history of Chinese Painting at the drop of a hat, to the cadre of Museum guards who speculate which nationality she is in hopes of scoring another eligible girl for their latest matchmaking efforts. Sometimes Chinese look at her and see either a traitor (dating an apparent white guy or buying into the sweet, stylish Asian girl construct) or a good girl (with a Chinese guy as if Chinese belong together). Other ethnicities place their prejudices on her willy-nilly, "talking all kinds of smack, right to their faces," and other dis-associated Chinese throw Asian concepts around willy-nilly as well.

Kim Kong Keltner writes in a breezy, wittily humorous, culture-name-dropping style that is entertaining if occasionally a little too much "purple" detail. As if naming the brands of either culture gives it enough flavor to substitute for plot! But actually, the plots are not bad. It's the punny analogies that are sometimes funny and sometimes hugely groan-worthy. It's as if Mrs. Keltner spent a little too much time reading Piers Anthony, if you know what I mean. So read with caution! :)

Lindsey's efforts to understand the older Chinese generations (her parents disinterested in talking about family history, her grandparents, remote and odd, and set in their ways) are evocative of any young person's quest to understand their own history, and more so in Lindsey's case since her present is so mostly removed from her distant ancestral past. She is not a full cultural Chinese, but she is also familiar with being the outsider at her mostly white Catholic school.

In Buddha Baby, Linsey has taken a job at her old elementary school, like a full-blown metaphor for revisiting, confronting and reevaluating the demons of ones past. She discovers old secrets, revisits old memories of differentness and pressures to conform to the White World, and is confronted with a number of surprises.

My favorite part here was her slowly developing a new relationship with her grandparents, trying to understand them (as they no doubt are wondering what to do with this clueless American granddaughter), and reconcile what she thought she knew about her own family.

Meanwhile, her sweetheart is culturally American (white American), but as it comes out in the first book, secretly a quarter Chinese! He's even more clueless about Chinese culture than Lindsey is, but more open-hearted, and she seems to benefit from both having to educate Michael and opening herself up in a relationship where she doesn't have to hide the tangled complexities of herself.

It's a drifting yet entertaining story of self-identity exploration. Mostly very enjoyable and a light cultural tour.

Near the end of the book, Lindsey comes across a piece of her grandparents' past. Well, several pieces. This may count as a spoiler so watch out! :)

But the curious thing for me was that this link both remembered the "old" way of thinking of Chinese labors (in which Chinese took all the grunt jobs that nobody else wanted.... the men were all called Johnny and the women were all called Mary), while seemed to have a more modern link in other ways. So was this patronizing? respectful? reality of that time? it's so bizarre.

I half expected this person to apologize for all the old attitudes, all the racism inherent in the system, that contributed to their own life, but they didn't. And THEN (huge spoiler alert!), this person's daughter had adopted a daughter from China!!!! Now that was a twist. Although it did not seem to be a case of a true Hoarder because although the woman who adopted came from a family of collectors of exotic things, she had earlier been seen to seem to pick on young people, especially those of Asian descent. Lindsey herself remembers occasions of acting out against Chinese as the internalized "other" of her primary culture, so maybe there are more conflicted motivations. But still, this person who grew up around Chinese "help" now has a Chinese granddaughter! And apparently was happy with it. Or at least not unhappy. But I couldn't tell if the author approved, disapproved or was just holding it up as another cultural oddity.

So this second book in particular, although it draws heavily on the character groundwork laid by the first book, explores more aspects of self-identity and figuring out where one belongs and how to fit in, how to identify oneself. OR at least acknowledging the difficult of finding unambiguous answers.

So overall, this was a light fluffy cultural read with deeper ideas to contemplate hidden in the mix.

* * * * * *

Wait Blues

2007-07-18T22:26:00.000-07:00

I've been recently feeling a bit blue with the wait. It's not so much having to wait so long, having to occupy ourselves and watch my friends' children grow up while we wait. It's more a bitter sweet feeling that my daughter may miss some things, windows of opportunity. Like, my friend's son will be rather older than my daughter instead of just a little older. Rats, anyway!

Our cats are getting older, and I find myself worrying about them dying before she gets to know them. They are very sweet, albeit quirky, cats. I find myself worrying that they will be suffering health problems by the time we have to travel. As much as I long for my daughter, I have a fear of leaving my kitten boys behind if they are not well. They do okay with us gone for a weekend. They have even survived a couple weeks or longer on occasion, but they are not exactly secure and happy with it. They are my existing babies, so I have a dread of "abandoning" them for too long when they get older, and perhaps accelerating their decline if we are not around to care for them as usual. I had a sad, traumatic experience with an earlier cat, so that is probably coloring that feeling.

And then, these are the perfect cats for a child to know! I'm worried that by the time our daughter is with us, the cats will not have their personalities intact and allow her to know them as individuals. Well, I suppose it could be educational and all to experience the death of a pet, but in my minds eye, I have always imagined ourselves as a family with these particular cats. It would be like having little furry brothers. lolol : D But cats are not necessarily long-lived, so it makes me sad to think that our daughter may not know these cats as we do.

Then, I worry about my parents as well. They are still reasonably healthy, but they are getting into the range of elder health problems and sudden death. Yeah, lovely. I'm not even so freaked about about the impact on myself, but it makes me sad and worried at the possibility that my daughter may not know her grandparents. If we have to wait another 3-4 years, how able will my parents be to BE that grandparent and have a relationship with her? Actually, knowing them, only death or dementia would keep them away from a grandchild! And that's reassuring. But still, it concerns me. I lost a grandparent when I was quite young; I regret not knowing her and having real memories of her. My in-laws are even older and in poorer health than my own parents (not that they are exhibiting any excitement about this adoption), so I am a little anxious trying to imagine which of the four will still be around to know our child.

I know it's just the unknown future. I usually try to shrug off the future, saving my energy for things that *actually* happen instead of things that *might* happen, but sometimes I can't help wondering and worrying.

In my head, I calculate some of the numbers. So here we had been hoping to get our daughter through college by the time we are ready to retire. By the time we are at retirement age, though, we'll be in the thick of paying for college, which is itself a scary thought! No kidding. Here I wonder about having enough to retire, and my kid will need more resources to make a better life for herself. Not sure how we are going to wangle that! I guess the college fund needs to get started. Maybe I won't retire... :P

I also worry about her not having enough "people resources" as she gets older. Her family will be aging. Parents, aunts, uncles and cousins will be out of generational range. At least one cousin so far will be within her own age range, and even she may be a number of years older by the time my child comes home, but maybe old enough to be that older cousin! Well, that may work out... I really wanted her to have some generational family relationships. My sister could have another child; my other sister could adopt domestically. Ya never know. Of course, by the time she gets here, the next generation of babies will be born among friends, family and church friends. No doubt there will be scads of kids her age if current church demographics are any indication.

Also, I can worry myself about relative ages. When she is at 20 years, we'll be old and wise. haha! When she is at 40 years, we may be old and decrepit! Ack! When she is older than us now, well, we may be dead. :( And no, this does not make me feel too old to be a parent, just that we may have less time than ideal.

I feel extra pressure to help her become self-sufficient and able to stand on her own two feet as she comes into young adulthood, and confident, unlike, say, myself at a younger age! But I don't want to push her, either, which could cause her to feel unsupported. She needs her babying and time to know reliable care. It's a tricky edge to navigate. I'm just aware of how long it took me to become really my self-sufficient self, and I want to able to be fully there for my daughter as she negotiates her own levels of maturity.

I guess so much of my anxieties come from knowing that so much can change in a few years. I want to do the best for her. So much could go wrong in those intervening years while we wait... Illness, financial difficulties... or even overwhelming career success! Gosh, that would throw something in the works. I get to worry about astounding success. Some of that is already happening, and I find myself wondering what the heck I am going to do in a few years when I may have to reign in my work related activities. I am trying to get some projects done beforehand, to see how much I can get out of the way before she comes home. Ha! Not unlike I have attempted in the past!

The fact is, I don't know. I can't really plan for good or bad and base decisions on that. I had been putting off some work and life decisions for years thinking I'd have a child any month now, yes, for *years*. I'm done with that. I have to pursue the rest of my life and not wait for it, just as I have pursued being a parent (and not "waited" for it to happen, although we did wait to get married to our ideal person first). Even the wait: I have already pursued IA wholeheartedly... and now I pursue the rest of my life wholeheartedly while I wait for this other parent-endeavor to bear fruit. But meanwhile, I am really sad that our circumstances may be very different by the time our daughter is matched with us. I wish I could stop time so that our daughter gets our best *right now*.

I know it doesn't make sense. I actually do have time to prepare during the wait and get things ready for her arrival. I'm just sad thinking of the time going by... and she's not here with us to experience and enjoy it. I want my baby here.

* * * * * * *

As Long As I Live ~ Koehler/Arlen
Lena Horne, 1944

Baby, I can't live to love you as long as I want to
Life isn't long enough, baby
But I can love you as long as I live.

Maybe I can't give you diamonds and things
Like I want to
But I can promise you sweet baby
I'm gonna want to as long as I live.

I never cared, but now I'm scared
I won't live long enough.
That's why I wear my rubbers when it rains
And eat an apple every day
See the doctor anyway.

What if I can't live to to love you as long as I want to,
Long as I promise you baby
I'm gonna love you as long as I live.

* * * * * * *

societal ageism

2007-06-30T12:08:00.000-07:00

The other day I was browsing in teacher supplies and heard another customer talking to the clerk.

Seems that one of her colleagues was having a baby for the FIRST time at AGE 40 and they were having a baby shower for him.
That old? The clerk exclaimed with astonishment.
Yeah, the customer said, laughing with bemusement. He just up and got married and had a baby at 40 years old!

(Astonished, as if he and his wife were just going to pack it in because they had hit 40? WTF?)

They spent some time exclaiming about WHAT WERE THEY THINKING, having a baby AT THAT AGE. Gosh, what WILL they think of next? Having a BABY. At 40! What will those crazy old people think of next.

I was over there in the posterboard section, steaming, wanting to either hide or tell them off. --Shut your mouth! and What the hell is so old about 40?

The all-knowing smugness of the attitude as if they could ever imagine somebody THAT OLD having a child.

Then they started joking about how he had joked that he'd be in a wheelchair by the time the kid got into college. More steam. For that matter, what do they think about 60 being so old? For God's Sake, I know people well into their 60s who are fitter than many 20 year olds. They are nowhere near a wheelchair.

We do happen to have many friends who are older than us who do not seem all that old. And they do call anybody out who dares imply they are "elderly" in any fashion. Some of them even have young children and are fine parents. Not the 60-year-olds, to be sure, but friends in their 40s and 50s, some of whom actually hit the procreation jackpot more than once in their 40s. And yes, I would like to get my child into college before retirement age, but that is not my prime concern.

It just galls me that people want to make remarks about somebodys life choices based on age. Okay, I am not perfect... If anything, I think of people in their 20s and 30s as ridiculously young, even though I was there myself not that long ago. Maybe we need younger friends to balance out the perspective, hmm?

But the whole "too old to be a parent" thing REALLY annoys me. Even before I hit my 40s, I had a friend tell me I was probably too old to have children. I about hit him, I was so furious. Maybe it is/was true. My eggs are crap now, not enough of the proper hormones to make the system run ideally for procreation, but still! It's more likely that I got too much exposure to certain industrial solvents in my workplace of my youth (Not To Be Used By Women Of Child Bearing Age But My Bosses Didn't Give A Fuck) and isn't THAT a happy thought? One of the reasons I got out of that field, but apparently it was too late....

AND the people I know who had children when they were what many people would consider WAY too young have done a fine job, too. So as far as I am concerned, the whole perfect age to be a parent is an illusion.

I digress, I know. This whole ageism pisses me off. Who you callin' old? Better watch it, girlie.

*goes away steaming*

* * * * * * *

Disappointment and Happiness

2007-06-06T13:18:00.000-07:00

* * * * *

As a reward to myself after a shopping trip with M recently, I bought some ice cream at the nearby store... (of course, I knew it was there before we went to that part of town and had been anticipated the trip.) It's one of those place where you can add fun stuff into the mix. But when I got there, I could not remember what I had had before that I liked so much. Despite the noise in the place, the young man at the counter recognized what I was looking for from my description--yea-- and mixed it up for me. But when I got my ice cream, it was not what I had expected. It still had coffee ice cream, but it included peanut butter and some other stuff (not bad, but wtf ??) and he'd left out the chocolate syrup... I was feeling too nice to object (it also being quite loud I didn't feel like trying to explain myself yet again), just paid for my ice cream and sat down.

At first, I was feeling very disappointed and resigned to this serving of not-quite-what-I-wanted. For instance, peanut butter is not what I think of when I want a treat for myself, although the bits of cookie added great texture. It tasted pretty good, but I was having a hard time getting over that it wasn't what I had wanted. Mutter, mutter...

Then I told myself I was being silly. I was letting my disappointment get in the way of enjoying some fab ice cream. I told myself that if I had been offered this exact same thing at a friend's house, I would not have turned it down, and in fact would be relishing it for the treat it was. I told myself this enough times to let it sink in... Gradually, I could just sit and enjoy the experience for what it was: yummy. Status of Attitude Adjustment: Success.

Then later, I realized that I could whip up exactly what I wanted at home with ingredients that I could obtain for significantly less cost... *ahem* The only trouble is that I make a point of not keeping such ingredients in the house, knowing that I am likely to eat it all the durn time if I have it on hand... But it's a thought.

It was not until later that I realized that the whole experience has emotional parallels to our experience with trying to become parents. Sometimes you don't get quite what you ordered... You'd think it'd be easier to get what you want... and maybe you decide it's not worth more hassle to try yet again... But the disappointment can kill you. Disappointment can cloud your view so badly that you can't even clearly see what's in front of you.

Meanwhile, life hands you something else wonderful (although not quite what you had ordered). Do you let your disappointment cloud the enjoyment of what you have? Does it cast a pall on the whole experience? Does eerything taste like ashes with the bitterness of it all? Maybe for a while. Yeah, and then, maybe, sometimes, if you are lucky, you realize it's what you wanted, just not in the way you expected, not in the exact manifestation you had anticipated. Sure sounds like "life" to me.

Me, I wanted ice cream. I got some ice cream. Ice cream is good. Mmmmm...

* * * * *

Meanwhile, I saw a B-by's R Us in the same vicinity. I could barely restrain myself from dragging my dearest over to take a look, but vowed to go back later and peruse everything. Must. Compare. Products. Oh yeah, have I mentioned I am feeling all preparatory and gung ho?

A couple days later, I was in my neighborhood drugstore and bought some well-made baby nail cutters, some semi-disposable baby spoons in rainbow colors and --get this-- a nasal aspirator. Whoo. haha I know; it's funny to get those non-cute items. To me, it represents starting my stash of neccesary baby care items.

I was dropping off some items at my local thrift store and of course cruised the furniture. No dressers or bookshelves, but I found a cute wooden child-sized rocking chair. Very cool. It needs a bit of a scrub down and some wood glue--not a problem; that chair was *mine*.

Once I had snagged the chair, I of course had to check out the baby clothes too. I ended up buying several little onesies, a cute print toddler turtleneck and a *very* cute child's zippered sweater in shades of pink, lavender and aqua of cotton and lambswool. My whole spending spree (which included half an armload of children's clothes hangers) came in under $14. Really a bargain. We have several very nice thrift stores in the area. I can see that this will be a good source for both acquiring children's clothes and letting me indulge in retail therapy at an affordable price. Whoo. "I feel good."

I started a spreadsheet to keep track of baby clothes, their sizes, colors, seasons, etc, and afterwards threw everything in the clothes basket for a wash. In the list, I included several things I have acquired in the last 5 years that I'd left buried in the back of a closet the last 3. Now they feel like they have a purpose after all.

I have a few nervous misgivings about buying big, expensive items before we get closer to match time, glimmerings of superstitions not wanting to jinx anything. But let me just say that it makes me very happy to see those dear little clothes in my clothes basket.

* * * * *

To Pass the Time

2007-05-30T10:43:00.000-07:00

We have just passed our two month mark after having received our LID. It seems almost laughable to consider this a significant step knowing that we have many more months ahead of us. I can't bear to hang onto every month at this point. For my own sanity, I need to think about other things while we wait.

But after a couple months of not running around and anxiously awaiting signatures and documents, I'm realizing that, wow, it's rather nice...

In some ways, having to keep track of what needed to be done kept us well-occupied and distracted from other worries. As long as there was some project or goal for me to tackle, I could feel I was doing something. I *could* do something. You should have seen my battle plans for the dossier! I was relentless. haha. :)

And now I'm feeling ready to move onto other goals. Yesterday I finally erased the master list for our dossier from the office whiteboard. It wasn't even traumatic, so I knew I was ready, although I did take a picture of it first. (Me and my lists--lol) I felt it was time to make way for a new stage of our process and into a new state of waiting.

So now, for some odd reason, I am feeling ready to contact other people waiting, other adoptive parents, other people in our LID month (within reason--I am not a strong joiner. :)).

I also have perked up considerably at the thought of working on preparing for our daughter. I don't mind having a length of time to do things at my leisure, slowly and steadily with adequate forethought, the way I most enjoy it.

So here's a list of THINGS TO DO I've just recently started. I am a list person, so organizing my thoughts automatically makes me feel happier.

* * * * *
In no particular order:

Clear the baby's room of extraneous clutter (oh yeah. There's lots.)
Find/buy a crib
Look for crib sheets, mattress cover, pad, etc
Clean glide rocker, make armrest covers
Start collecting clothes, store in boxes
Remind sister and friends that yes, I would like any hand-me-downs
Start collecting toys for younger ages, eg stacking cups
Start cruising yard sales for kid items
Fix top of changing table cabinet (clean and re-bolt)
Repaint cabinet ?
Find NEW place for fabric stash (currently in changing table cabinet)

Contact agency LID group
Contact local adoptive family group through agency

Review/adjust list of items needed for travel
Start acquiring meds for travel pharmacy
Try making cloth diapers and diaper covers (I found a great site for that! yeah, too cool!)

Find conversational Mandarin class, or bug local University until they offer that class again!
Sign up me AND my slightly trepidacious husband for said classes -- hehe :)
Continue to practice the Mandarin I know already (read through phrases every day, practice new ones)
Attend some local cultural (Chinese) events
Find some Chinese stations and programs on my short wave radio
Find some Chinese language radio stations on-line
Look for Chinese lullaby/game CDs
Look for child tape player
Look for those black & white high-contrast picture-images for baby stimulation
Learn more Chinese geography

Start looking for quilt fabric, both for own projects and for fabric exchanges
Fix ceiling in baby's room
Find new lamp globe for ceiling fan
Remove old border
Paint baby's room (revisit paint colors)
Consider other needed furniture
Make curtains for baby's room
Start acquiring storage boxes to box up special books during toddler stage
Look for baby gate(s)
Look for high chair
Research baby carriers
Research car seats

Continue to read about adoption issues and adoption blogs
Continue to think about race and identity issues (darn it--where is Johnny when we need him?)
Reorganize all adoption papers

Start looking for baby items eg blankets, spit-up clothes, bottles and nipples, etc
Start installing child-proof locks on all cabinets
Finish knitting that blanket...
Look for baby memory book
Review immunization schedule
Sell all old pregnancy books (!)

* * * * *

As one of my favorite bloggers sometimes says, "I am full of good ideas."

* * * * *

Baseline Informed Speculation

2007-05-27T10:58:00.000-07:00

Wait Times as of May 2007

Even though we know that it will be *years* until we are matched with our Chinese daughter, we still like to speculate sometimes. Various people come up with tools to crunch numbers or calculate with some degree of well, something similar to informed speculation or wild guessing, the date of our match referral. Here's my current list of speculation, informed and otherwise:

* * * * * *

Someone (anxiouslywaiting) on RQ has come up with a handy chart to show number of dossiers per month and number of months AND the number of dossiers they have been matching per month.

http://chinaadopttalk.com/forum/index.php?topic=4784.0

Granted, this does not take into account people who are later in the process and not yet being counted, but...

Number of dossiers to our LID (people ahead of us in line)
divided by 27.39 LIDs (average number matched per day, aka 833 per month)
= the number of days we will wait based on the snapshot of the poll
= 1817.93975... (days left to wait)
Divided by 365 days per year (not worrying about leap years)
= 2.609158 months until we are matched.

To make a long calculation short, they say we are looking at

2.6 years (2 years and 7 months), putting us at late Oct, early Nov of 2009.

As anxiouslywaiting says, "It is math and not necessarilly reality but it is the best I can do realizing that the poll is not perfect."

He also says, "It is still just a guessing game and this is only an educated guess based upon a snapshot in time with a lot of data collected from rumors over the months. it is probably as reasonable as we can expect to get at guessing ........ but anything goes really."
So there you go: informed speculation.

* * * * * *

Now, there's another tool on the web at the chinaadoptionforecast website.
http://chinaadoptionforecast.com/

They say the time of our referral is likely to come somewhere between a minimum of August 8, 2008 and a maximum of July 16, 2031 (ha! that's why they call it the maximum!).

But wait; they have a better idea, and another calculator that does not require me to slave over my calculator.

"Our best guess - a weighted average of recent CCAA velocities, guessing that the CCAA will perform as well in the future as they are performing now, but might return to previous trends:"

April 27, 2010

Without putting too fine a point on it, that's a little over three years, one month, and one week of a wait. *sigh* At this rate, I will be happy if the wait doesn't go over THAT.

* * * * * *

My agency's updated website is still saying 18-20 months wait to match, between Sept and Nov of 2009.
At this point, I am guessing they don't want to come right out and say "up to or beyond three years." They'll raise the numbers slowly, that's my guess.

* * * * *

The Long Wait

2007-05-27T10:53:00.000-07:00

The Long Wait (TLW) as of May 2007

Well, for those of you out of the loop of China Adoptions, the wait times (from Log-In Date to Match) have been extending and extending far beyond our initial ideals.

When we first started the process, we were told it was 8-12 months til match. Then the official paperwork from our chosen agency was indicating 12-14 months. We were okay with that, so we started on the application and dossier process, which in itself could take 3-5 months (ha! It took us what? 7? 8 months? It's a blur.)

While we built our dossier, the waits started creeping upward. I was hearing rumors of two years fairly early (18-24 months), so I started telling people the wait could take up to two years, although that didn't stop some people from dancing about with glee and proclaiming it would take us "hardly any time at all" and that "the wait goes quicker than you think." ha! ha! Yes! They said that! hahhah

Okay, seriously, with times creeping further and further out, we are now hearing of possibly *three* years wait! I am trying to not feel too depressed about that. We have our spot in line and I'm holding on to that.

I do start worrying that the wait will extend to even longer and weird things will happen to the situation before we have our daughter matched and home. I have a dread of having to explain the situation to others. It's painful to have to somehow justify the long wait to others when we are even more frustrated and pained by the slow down. I am even more glad now that we haven't made any general announcements and having to deal with remarks from a larger pool of uninformed people. It's hard enough already with the people I keep in the loop asking "how the adoption is going." Well, I say, our paperwork is still sitting in a stack somewhere in China... Like, excuse me, it's not "going" anywhere; it's sitting there in line!!!!

* * * * *

On a related note, I have found out in the last couple of months that some of our friends who wrote us reference letters have not been keeping it quiet as I had originally requested. We have random people offering us "help" and even our car mechanic (!!!? WTF?!) remarking that they had mentioned it to him... They even mentioned something in front of another acquaintance that we would never go out of our way to share personal information with. This is very disconcerting. Do they not think that our information is worthy of discretion, especially since we asked them to be discrete? I start feeling very irritable and a little panic-y that the info is being flung willy-nilly around the area.

On top of that (being confronted with people we don't know being privy to our private lives), I don't know how to bring this up with our friends. I am baffled that perhaps, somehow, they did not understand that we were not sharing this at random and would prefer they NOT share this with other people. !!!! For God's Sake! Even if someone is pregnant, they don't usually (often) immediately share the news with the entire god-d*mned world. Wait, there was that one acquaintance who had to share to the ENTIRE world when she was merely a month pregnant--you can imagine my self-restraint at that announcement-- But anyway! :) hehehe

Anyway, we hardly see these folks in private... and our shared couple time has shrunk. So when do I have a spare quiet moment to say something to them?? I also don't want to hit them over the head with it. I just want to inquire about what they thought we wanted them to do with that personal information, and ask them, politely, to restrain themselves...

*sigh* It's not as if my mother doesn't also talk to her friends. It's not as if I don't also make my own decisions about who to share this with. It's partly that I *am* private about my life. I have had too much of people talking about my life as if it belonged to them. It's also that we will wait two to three friggin' *years* and I don't feel like putting up with sh*t from nosy people while we wait and wait and wait and ...

It makes me sympathize with all those famous people about whom it's said," they are a deeply private person." Yeah, I get it. Just because somebody knows who you are or thinks they know you does not give the right to every last iota of personal information about you. If you have been reading, you know I hit on this topic a lot. I'm sure this won't be my last. :)

But how to redirect my well-meaning but apparently clueless friends? Maybe they didn't get the memo I thought they did? Maybe by "not sharing it with everyone," they thought, like, we meant every last person on the earth. Only a few hundred or so... Okay, I know my secrets are *not* safe with *them*...

* * * * *

Ambivalent but yet We Are Go-ing....

2007-05-20T14:22:00.000-07:00

I found this post that I started last month when some other boggers were contemplating their ambivalencies about adoption and how they were or were not pushing forward. I wrote this big long thing inspired by, but not wholly addressing that question. So here I offer you my lightly-edited musings...

on Being Ambivalent April 2007

We were going through the grieving process all through our IF experience. The last cancellation was devastating... I/we were so depressed I couldn't think about anything except our massive loss of hope. We considered DE for a while... but we could not get enthused about it and finally dropped it alltogether. We finally nudged ourselves towards international adoption--we had enough left over (both economically and emotionally) for only one more try of any nature.

My husband has pointed out that none of our decisions came easily or without much agonizing and debate. At each juncture when we had to decide what to do next (another door slammed, or perhaps creeping closed), we had to reassess what we really wanted within our remaining options. We really wanted to be parents, so at each point, we had to ask ourselves what we were willing to consider.

Adoption had been there in the deep background during IF, but we kept denying that we would go there... no, no, not us, not yet... When faced with our true choices, we had to confront each option square on... and sometimes our wishing something to work did not make it a better option. We found that DE was NOT for us, DS was NOT for us, but adoption WAS (but NOT domestic).

Part of that was winnowing out what we could feel good about doing. Even though we liked aspects of other options, our gut was not completely happy. We had to go through many stages to figure out any loopholes or variations that would let us be okay with an option. The hard work was admitting when an option had failed the test, and then letting go of it. But we had to test everything to make sure we weren't shutting off an option that might work for us.

Conversely, for adoption, it was more about becoming convinced it could work for us and less about find the reasons it wouldn't work. Seeing and hearing other people's stories, we saw that is was doable despite the challenges. I have to say that Lori in SC (blog name: clueless in carolina) was particularly inspiring in showing me life *after* adoption.

It still took us a while (several months after our last cancellation) to admit that we would seriously consider adoption. This despite the fact that I had been looking at foster children the year before (which is a while 'nother story). The turning point was a friend who had gone through the IA process sharing us her story. We were interested and asked more--no pressure. She offered contact info for her agency and other websites if we wanted it. We waited a month to ask for the info and another month after that to even look at the website. But within a week of finding our ideal agency, we were reading everything in sight and feeling... cautiously hopeful.

Finally we looked at each other and both said --We really want to do this! After a, oh, day or so, of feeling cautiously gleeful, we moved on to sheer open-faced hope. A glorious sight for both of us, I must say. It was like the clouds had lifted and we could see clearly that there was sunshine on the horizon for us. It was truly like that after feeling so depressed about our history of failed attempts. So at that moment, we were glowing with that decision--as hopeful (and naive) as someone drawing a conception date on a calendar-hehe.

But we also trusted in the process. And once we threw ourselves into that, past that first blush of excitement for our eventual child, we have been prepared to do anything-everything- to make that happen. So we trust in the process and feel there will be something at the end of it.

And strangely, I do have ambivalence, but it's the wariness of someone comfortable in one's present life, not of adoption in particular. Or I read more stories of RAD or other attachment/emotional/physical/identity/first parent issues, and it does scare me. But I figure our education is the best treatment for that. I learn whatever I can, preparing myself and M to meet eventual challenges, so I have confidence that we will deal with what comes to us. So h*ll YES, I am sometimes scared about the challenges... but still I push forward. I have to because otherwise I would have to confront just stopping dead in my tracks and preparing to live without a child. And my desire to parent a child is greater than the risks.

Now, while we wait to be matched, I am almost enjoying the long wait... It's a kind of fatalism. We still really want to be parents, but as to who our child will be... we leave that to the process.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Imagine in 3/4 time, 4-part harmony:
----------------------------------

We are go-ing
Hea-ven knows where we are go-ing but
we know with-in

And we'll get-there
Hea-ven knows how we will get-there but
we know we-will

And though
we know
that the road
is rocky and rough,

We are go-ing
Hea-ven knows where we are go-ing but
we know with-in ...
----------------------------------

* * * * * * * * * * *

Surprised by Expectations

2007-04-27T11:20:00.000-07:00

Interesting how I'm just going along, living my life in my post-LID, pre-adoption days, and run suddenly into those nefarious (or perhaps insidious) expectations of Bay-bee making.

Two different incidences:

* * * * *

I was hanging out with some acquaintances before a regular event we all enjoy, chatting and eating a bite of dinner.

Suddenly, Ms. Therapist turned to me and asks: Can I ask you a personal question?

Well, now, that's a big tip-off that something rude and intrusive is coming down the pike, right? I should said No, God! Spare Me The Nosy Questions, right then and there. Instead I grimaced wryly and said: People ask me personal questions all the time. Thinking to myself: But I may not chose to answer.

But I was truly surprised at her question: Do you and M ever think about having children?

LOLOL Well, I was so taken aback that I muttered: Well, that IS a personal question.

Pushing ahead obliviously, she continued: Because some couples decide to not have children...

I am surprised that this woman is a therapist or counselor of any sort. Where is her sensitivity? It's not like we are remotely close. She just seemed avidly curious. And if she was asking for herself rather than for her need to root around in our business, she could have asked me in private rather than in front of several of our acquaintances.

Meanwhile, it's flashing through my brain: Don't get upset, don't cry, don't get huffy, don't make a self-deprecating remark, don't tell them about any plans, don't give them anything to gossip over later... Don't you *dare* give *anything* to her!

And she continued: ... So I wondered if you all have thought about it...

I paused. I looked over at her with a controlled seethe, fluttered my lashes and said: All the time.

Dead silence.

This woman found a sudden interest in a completely different topic. No back pedaling, no apology. Maybe a sudden awareness that she was in deep shit and had to Get Out Now. Pretended like she had never asked.

Now she won't look at me any time I run into her in our regular group settings. I started wondering if I had been rude in my response. M reassured me that I had *not* been rude and had in fact handled it beautifully. I guess my semi-infamous "look" that is said to stop people in their tracks leaving wisps of smoke rising off their hair comes in handy now and again.

God knows I have had my share of asinine remarks and rude questions. I guess I should be happy that I didn't get any *more* pissy about it or start running my mouth leading to kicking myself later.

* * * * *

And then there's a conversation I had with a Korean woman from one of my classes, which had a completely different outcome.

We've always been friendly to each other. She's one of those people with whom you instantly feel a kinship with, although we have never had much time to talk on a personal level, given the nature of our evenings and days.

But leaving class one week, we walk out together chatting. She says she has to hurry home because her husband is taking care of their children and finds it hard work. I joke that it's good for men to sometimes experience how much work caring for children can be! Maybe they'll appreciate a mother's work more! haha!

Then, of course, she asks me if I am married and have children. Yes but Nooo, I say. Oh! You are still in the honeymoon stage! She says impishly. I don't have the heart to tell her we have been married for 5 years and together for 9 and have long passed out of the honeymoon stage.

But the hallway is clear, and I give in to the urge to confide in her (matter of factly )that we are adopting... Oohh, She says, nodding. I can't tell her reaction, really, and I don't know if she will start asking more or even if she approves, given some Asian attitudes towards adoption. We pause to mull this over as we continue down the hall.

I tell her my husband is picking me up to go out for a dinner date. Her eyes get big. It's like your honeymoon, she repeats with some humor. We never get to go out to eat any more...

She tells me that she and her husband get married, then three months later (she holds up three fingers), she got pregnant, and she was sooo sick... (shaking her head with the memory). So, they didn't have much time with just the two of them, she says. She's smiling, but wistful. I just nod and make wry sympathetic noises of acknowledgment, because what else can I really say? I'd trade my honeymoon for your children? No, I don't think that's the answer even if it were remotely true. Sometimes it's enough to be witness to somebody else's reality. Or to exchange respectful sharings.

Which is why this did not rub me the wrong way, I think. We each shared some personal detail of our lives and trusted that the other would be sensitive about it.

Then her other friend comes to pick her up, and we leave waving our good byes.

* * * * *

Later I was musing that there's something about the married state that implies child-bearing/child-rearing.

Rhetorical question: why do people automatically assume that when you get married you either have children or you are making some choice to not have children, or just, "you can't."

One way or another, the Bay-bee issue is right there in your face. Perhaps it's that the membership in the Bay-bee club can stunt or cement relationships or give or withhold the supposed worthiness or "belonging" of a given person. Like one of my sisters suddenly became buddy-buddy with many of our cousins again after she joined that club and learned the secret Bay-bee handshake sealed with bay-bee spit up. How freakin annoying. The club atmosphere, not the spit up.

For myself, I really wanted children. From the beginning with M, it was part of our conversations about our visions of our life together. It was important enough to both of us that we wanted to make sure we were in agreement about life goals and grand ambitions. Some of those grand visions have not come to pass, but our values are still in alignment. And we still want children.

But given that children, whether one has them or not, is such a personal decision (okay, we will ignore for the moment the countless relatives who have had oops Bay-bees which involved decisions of a different sort), what justification does one ever owe to others to justify any of those choices? Like about any other life choice. It's not decided by a blue-ribbon panel; it's your own life, yes?

I am a privacy freak, yes. People's private decisions are their own business and don't need commentary from others. I'm sure there are exceptions, but it drives me nuts to hear people talk about somebody else's choices as if they know all about them. If they did know all about it, they shouldn't be blabbing it.

And then there's the assumed right to *know* about other people's personal lives. Just because you are curious or "just wondering" does not give you a right to anybody's stuff. This always seems so much clearer when you've been on the receiving end of that assumption, naturally. I can't even stand it when some of our "friends" say they've been "wondering" about us. Eh, madam, git yer grubby mind off our business! It feels so invasive.

But a sharing, now, that can be appropriate. Not for passing judgement, but getting acknowledgment and witnesses to the challenges and joys of our flawed lives. It's all a work of art. Don't let the critics get you down. But I don't see the point in giving the critics anything to work with, either.

* * * *
Over and out...

2007-04-27T09:08:00.000-07:00

I cracked up recently reading Julie's rendition of her Instant Message Conversations With My ClearBlue Easy Fertility Monitor.

http://www.alittlepregnant.com/alittlepregnant/2007/04/instant_message.html

If I had to imagine my old basel thermometer personified, this is what I get:

BT: You never pick me up any more. You leave me lying here on the bedside bookcase doing nothing! Don't I mean anything to you any more? You never even wonder what your temp is. What's wrong? *snif* Don't you love me any more? (loud sobbing)

Me: Uhh. It was fun, but I'm afraid I've moved on... It's not you, really. Here, let me put you in the closet with my old sharps and ya'll can talk about old times...

That's all we need, a weepy BT or a sarcastic shadenfreudliche CBEFM.

Makes me glad I didn't cave to my first doctor's suggestion that we get one of those monitors. Of course, he cheerfully mentioned adoption in the same breath as an IUI, and claimed that any reasonable question showed I was too "anxious," so that shows how invested he was in my success... Here, let's spend some *more* money! 'Cause you'll probably have to adopt anyway... seeing how you're so "anxious"... A**hole.

Friends after IF

2007-03-23T23:22:00.000-07:00

I've been contemplating my friend situation... I am thinking that IF does change you, changes the relationships around you. So I have "moved on" to adoption, but that pain still does not leave. And more shockingly, my friends still have the power to hurt me with thoughtlessness. And even after IF! Even after adoption! It's crazy. Some of the very people we had write reference letters for us are floating away. Are we pushing them away? Are we doing something wrong? I don't know. I do notice being surprised with hurt that some of these same people who I somehow thought I could trust with my innermost vunerabilities are in fact rather careless about them. I somehow thought that if they passed the test of being entrusted with this important task, that they would not go clod-hopping around on my bruised heart. Boy, have I been rudely surprised.

Well, and the other so-called friends too. I did not notice so much earlier how my IF experiences had changed my whole idea of what it meant to be a kind person, or a gracious and sensitive person. Or even a person with whom I would be comfortable having an extended personal conversation with. But I find myself avoiding people who have been thoughtless to me. It's not so much avoiding as cutting out. it takes a lot for me to cut somebody out, but several people have crossed over the line. One woman still really wants to be my friend, and I cannot bring myself to tell her that she hurt me deeply by being so cavalier about my TTC, and therefor I don't want to spent time with her. Ever. Maybe it's harder with the more casual friends or acquaintances -- they are close enough that you might risk sharing personal news with them, but not so close to tell them how you feel, really. So it's hard to call them on the carpet with any sense of dignity. I don't want to make anyone feel defensive, but mostly because I can't stand the thought of having to mop up emotionally after her... So... I avoid because I don't know how to say *you hurt me a lot* without opening myself up to further vunerabilites. As if, if I have to admit it, then it's even more revealing. If I have to *have a discussion about my feelings* then I have to bare myself further, and I don't trust her to treat me gently.

With friends at any level, IF and other personal traumas introduces a new level of gambling into personal interactions. I have to judge whether someone is trustworthy enough to hear sensitive information and respond well. It's almost a test. *Will they make the right choice?* I end up testing everybody-- are they worthy of this information? Is my need to share greater than their ability to hear it? What if I guess wrong and they flunk the test? I can stop talking to them about IF or other personal issues, but then the issue is out there, still. I can't put it back in the bag once it's shared, and I end up being a sitting duck for assvice of all irritating sorts. I'm sad because many of who I thought were my friends have flunked that test and have acted in thoughtless ways. Even one friend who is hurt, yes, hurt, that I don't share more of my personal life with her, has said and done hurtful things... Just little thoughtless remarks or actions, and for that matter, acted in ways that do not inspire confidence.... being critical over the least little thing, for instance, so that I end up feeling like I'm being asked to justify any course of action. It's wearing. I still value her greatly as a friend, but there are whole slices of conversation that I can't get into with her. Even sharing happy news is not a given--sometimes I get a critical or evaluating response rather than simple pleasure... It's really confusing at times, trying to keep up who has which level of security clearance for which kind of information. Jeez Louise.

Maybe I am having a harder time because I am usually more open than necessary. I'm still learning to be more guarded in my sharing. I haven't been used to thinking about information security, and I so I've been hurt a lot by trusting people more than is warranted. And even now I have those mental checkpoints in my head. How do I protect myself? How can I get the support I feel I need? How much can I share? How are they likely to respond? Sometimes it's the relatively shallow relationships that can be the most gracious, and I am pleasantly surprised. But it's always a gamble. One woman said some rude and insulting things when we were first TTC... I could tell it was from her own wretched experience, so I stayed pretty calm, but I still find myself angry over her ignorant assertions. I don't think it even occurred to her that people might actually take it personally, might be well-advised to be insulted, even, but it was a very prejudicial and rude thing to say... And yet I still enjoy talking to her in moderation--we see each other a few times a year.

I think my ability to forgive someone for rude words may depend on how much I can ignore. lolol ! See, I am still pissed about somebody being callous, and I can't pretend it doesn't bother me. But-- and here's one key--I can't be bothered to take on the whole emotional mess of having that discussion! I feel I have more responsibility to take care of my own emotional well-being than "raising" other people's emotional responsibility. If I'm not prepared to raise their consciousness about some issues, then I can protect myself by *not getting into that discussion*. Do I WANT to raise my blood pressure? I don't need to be the teacher to the world. Edited to add: Although I have started to blandly share my reaction to some ill-informed opinions. Hold a mirror up and remark on the reality or unreality of a given attitude or assertion. I guess that's a start.

I'm sure there are some ways I could talk more effectively to my friends (and no-longer-friends). Must think on that.

Is it getting older than gives me more I-don't-give-a-shit-matter-of-fact-ness? That makes me not really care so much whether I am stepping on toes stating my needs and preferences and pointing out when someone needs to be more responsible? Ah, so this is what the older woman is like. I think I'm starting to feel it! And that may be the thing that gets me in a place to say some things that may need (eventually) to be said.

Meanwhile, old "friends" are dropping like flies... Either I need to cut everybody more slack, or I need to be more discriminating about who i call a friend. Or some other factors as well. And/or accept that my standards of friendship have changed.

At least through all of this, I can say that my husband has been my best friend. He listens (although he still worried that listening means doing nothing), he consoles, he empathizes, he cheers me up with sushi or ice cream. He doesn't get all pissy about how I am not acting to suit his needs... We can share our feelings honestly, even the less than admirable ones. We see the best in each other. He doesn't get freaked out when I am inconsolable. Or at least holds me and (again) listens, offers sensible feedback, reassures me, reins me in when I get out of whack.... and I do the same for him, although he copes with a lot less emotional drama than I do sometimes. lol In fact, we both are more accommodating of each other now. I am so lucky...

Start your wait

2007-03-23T22:05:00.000-07:00

Two years ago last week, my husband and I snuck off from another out-of-town weekend event with no privacy to rent a hotel room (lol!) and attempt to make babies at the perfect time in my cycle. We had a great time! Despite repeated failures, we were still getting that little frisson of anticipation thinking maybe oo, maybe,THIS time... it worked! As if, since we had gone through this special effort, OBviously the Universe would give us what we wanted. We snuck away from our other event and *everything*. Had to wait until they'd let us check in, and then hid the fact to the hotel staff that we weren't actually spending the whole night. Had to glibly and vaguely lie to all of our friends about where we had been. And it was worth it. But. Well, you know the story. A mere two weeks later, the blood told the tale. It's taken me a long time to stop feeling crushed at the sight of my period, or that feeling that comes 12 hours before...

In some ways, we have bonded over our shared trials. And we've moved on to focus on adoption. But there is some of that journey that as much as I put it under the carpet, I still can't sweep it out entirely. I still have all our old syringes and various meds cluttering up corners in my closet and fridge. For God's sake, I still have leftover packages of gonadatropins in the back of the fridge! Left there like a room left untouched. And why is that? It's not like I'm going to scrap-book my experience. Do I need to really keep my tally of which injection I gave myself when?

My other kicks in then and calmly explains the deal: I feel I need to honor what I went through. I do my best to forget it, but I can't throw it away like it wasn't important. Maybe that's the difficulty. Or if I throw away all evidence that I underwent that, it will be as if I had never tried. I am still weirdly attached to those little vials, though they basically killed off what was left of my ovarian response... They also cost a staggering amount of money for the privilege. I tell myself I will throw them out when I get closer to out match day. No point in having needles around with a toddler, ya know. But still, I *made the effort*. I stabbed myself with needles repeatedly. I didn't give up hope, or at least little enough to keep me from undertaking the protocol. Damn it, I was GOOD at giving myself those damn injections... I was a ridiculously good patient. Shows what doing everything right gets you... Yeah, that's right: jack shit. :)

* * * * *

On another cheerful note, I had an irritating dream about my sister announcing that I was pregnant. Then it ended with her pompously announcing that my body was "just different." I woke up wanting to smack her, although of course, I was just a dream... Oo, my first dream about having a defective body. Lovely. I'll add it to the list.

I still sometimes find a stream of similarly irritating and hurtful thoughts running through the back of my mind. We weren't good enough to be parents... Our genes were unworthy to reproduce successfully...We waited too long...

Mostly I've learned to ignore this mean-spirited muttering, like with a class of 3rd graders or a surly 13 year old. I deliberately look at it and smile politely in the way that lets it know that my patience is wearing thin and it'd best shape up. And sometimes I sit on a simmering rage at the injustice. But like the Roosevelt Dam, the lid keeps things at an even stream; not so bottled that it breaks the whole support, but not so un-contained that it overwhelms me. What I mean about judicious repression... I have other things to do with my life. It's exhausting to "process" this upheaval in my life at dial 11 all the time. I usually have the sense to remove myself from flashfloods or sudden downpours from asshole interactions. I look at it curiously and say, hmmm... that's pretty asinine. Is that worth your ire?? Huh? 'Cause is it going to help? No? Okay, we'll not get involved with that one...

* * * * *

And now, we just received word that our dossier has officially been logged in. Almost two years after we hoped we'd make it happen that one memorable time... It feels almost unreal. I feel pleasantly detached. I am miserly with my excitement; I spend it well. Yes, we have an LID. I could add more exclamation points, because at some level, I am just thrilled!!!!!!! Finally!!!! But I am very weary of throwing my enthusiasm to the winds. is that what happens when life hands you too much disappointment? I am truly excited to have an official LID date, something to count our months from and calculate possible match months, but there's still the long haul. Now starts the *other* count down.

Zipping Right Along

2007-03-05T18:17:00.000-08:00

After having the process drag out for longer than I anticipated, the process is now unexpectedly zipping along.

After we got word that our dossier had cleared review and gone to translation, later the same day we later heard that it had left the building and was already winging towards Beijing. Well, I am astonished. Here it could have taken up to 16 business days to go through review, translation, binding, etc, and our dossier managed to blow outta there in a single day? How on earth did that happen? Score one for my attention to picky details! At least, that's what I like to think.

Then, today, I get word that the dossier has already arrived at the CCAA! Wow! That's barely 3 days. I had to do a double take at the email. Are they sure they are talking about OUR dossier? Well, okay!

Reports differ as to how long it will take the CCAA to log in our dossier. One email says at least 5 weeks, another says up to 8 weeks.

2007-03-02T11:52:00.000-08:00

I've recovered a little of my gleefulness. Our dossier was received at the agency yesterday morning (thanks to tracking numbers, I knew this hours before they emailed a confirmation) and was so "in order" that it managed to pass through the critical review before the end of the day. On to translation!

* * * * *

Major storms were expected last night or maybe even yesterday afternoon. M was busy grading one of several huge stacks of papers when I reminded him of the onrushing weather expected. We wouldn't have time to get outside if we didn't take an early opportunity, so he dropped things for a while and went for a run while I did a small training walk.
... Later, he lamented that he had gone running so much earlier than necessary. I joked, yeah, but if you hadn't gone running when you did, you'd have been all: Look at the stack of papers! And: I have all this work to do and I didn't even get my run in! M started grinning and shaking his head, laughing in spite of himself. You're right. That's exactly what would have happened. I am so lucky to have you. ... lol

Crossing One Finish Line

2007-02-27T22:34:00.000-08:00

The dossier is in the bag, or at least in the hands of F3d 3x. I feel strangely dispassionate now that it's out of our hands.

I had a last minute agonization over which family photo to replace. We had a new one from a couple months ago that was clearly superior to several others. But which of the others to replace? I finally (reluctantly) ditched the photo that was most excellent of my dad and sister and others, but looked semi-crappy of the rest of us. These photos are to represent us in our best light, yes? So...

I also dragged my feet over writing up the cover letter and doing the final arranging of the documents. I can't say it was any more perfect for all that waiting. I started to laugh at myself, putting off the decisions, as trivial as they were. Just do it, already! It was just the agony of anxiety.

The guys at the mail shop boggled when they saw my stack of docs; they have been seeing most of my mailings go out the last several months, but this was the biggest stack yet. Yup, I said, this is everything... I was semi-exhausted, not jubilant. I don't have it in me to celebrate just yet after month after month of thinking we were "almost" done. I don't feel we are "done;" we just have a reprieve for a while. Now begins The Long Wait (TLW). Or rather, first begins the dossier review and then the sending to China, and then the wait to be officially logged in, and *then* we wait. So I am too anxious and emotionally tired to feel whipped up about this, or even merely upbeat. It was like the end of a marathon when it's all you can do to drag yourself across the line. Since I couldn't bring myself to spend some $130 to get it there overnight, I decided two-day would do. After the mailing label went on the package, I started wondering maybe there's yet another alternative? The guy who would usually tease me and give me a hard time gently said--"no, this will be fine. It'll get there in good time. Don't worry about it." I must have been a little pitiful if he was being that nice to me.

I did go to my favorite ice cream shop and had a couple of very yummy treats and enjoyed thinking about things other than the dossier. No guilt over having dessert in the middle of the day. There's satisfaction to having accomplished that much, the last items on the master list checked off. Now to take care of the rest of my life...

Do you copy me?

2007-02-26T22:12:00.000-08:00

After 16 documents (average pages of additional certifications/authentications: 2), 183 copies, $15.63, 1 hour and 45 minutes later, we have our docs and all attendant documentation copied for the dossier.

It was a mondo project involving reverse order pages and stapling and such. I had no idea how long it was taking until I finished. M had his photos taken, then actually went home to get a book and came back and sat reading nearby for "morale support." M tried to figure the time per doc. You'd think it was just under a minute per page, but that wouldn't include the shuffling and sorting and stapling of each doc. The homestudy took the longest with something like 8 pages plus documentation. In that time, three people came and went from the photo station next to me.

The documents are showing their age now. They've been sent around and photocopied multiple times without unfastening *any*thing, so they are looking a little bent and dinged up. Even some of the edges of the thicker papers are nearly frayed. Hope the Chinese understand that they can't be pristine anymore. Not after having been sent hither and yon for documentation of all sorts.

All sorts of weird feelings come up when we get this close to the end. I imagined some acquaintences showing up and me having to fend them off (back! piss off! go away!) while I was doing this sensitive project, but it didn't happen. :) Jeez, delusions of grandeur. Yeah, MY documents come through the STATE department. lol M said he was afraid to send the *originals* after all this time (in case something should happen to them). Hey, that's why we use the trackable F3d 3x! :)

Maybe we need to print out one last last family photo. Oh yeah, Must transfer money. Must go track down new amount of that one fee. Other things clammer for attention. Oh, my head!

Going without saying...

2007-02-25T23:04:00.000-08:00

I'm trying something new with my comments. If you wanted to send a comment and were rebuffed before, try again. Maybe the internet gods will shine favor on them and manage to pass them through the "series of tubes" without losing them this time. Maybe the internet godesses will favor me with bloggy understanding. Yah, it could happen.

Err, yes, of course, if you are one of those @ssh0le tr0lls, forget it! :) (I mean that in the best possible way. *smilyface*)

Al.Most.Done!

2007-02-23T10:39:00.000-08:00

The last two docs came back from the Chinese Embassy today! After less than two weeks out! Woot! That means we are Almost. Finished. With. Our. Dossier! Woot!

Our mail carrier told me it would be so much easier and faster if I didn't require a signature for delivery on the express mail packages. Ha. Yes. I told her that it wouldn't kill me for the docs to be left on our doorstep, but if they ever went astray, I'd *really* hate myself, so the sigs were preventive of disaster. If they come a day later because I couldn't be there one day, I at least know where they are! I think she gets it now.

Knowing that the docs would show up in the next couple weeks, I had worked ahead last week and got my extra sets of passports photos made. These are for embassies and visas and such, not for our actual passport.

I had to go at just the right time so that the sun was not glaring in the side window and making me squint. As usual, I had to have several versions taken before we got one without my eyes closed. My blink reflex is perfectly timed to coincide with the shutter. After they dialed the flash down, we got a decent shot. Better than the last one in which I was trying to both smile gently and avoid squinting, leaving me looking rather smirk-ish. lol! :P Yeah, I think not.

Now M has to get his own passport photos copies made. We had been "trying" to get this done together for weeks, but hadn't pushed through and actually done it. It always takes longer to coordinate and do something *together*, which I why I finally went ahead and got mine out of the way.

Side note: M rarely works ahead. We both tend to work at the last minute, but the bigger the project, the more I work ahead. I am organized. OH yeah. Whereas M will put things off 'til the last possible moment. He doesn't worry until the last moment either. Think last-minute-merger on the highway. hehe!
This translates into him being "laidback" and me being "uptight." Yeah, But I Get Stuff Done! I'm the one coordinating tasks and doing most of this (paper) work. If it were up to M, it would take another year to finish. I am not even kidding. Although it's also true, M is drowning in work now, and that is no fun. Let's play: How Long Can We Put This Off?

. . . .

Anyway... other than M's photos, the last things to do is make several complete photocopies of darn near everything (an interestingly tedious job) and *ahem* transfer money for the next humongous checks we have to write. Hear that giant sucking noise of money leaving our savings account? Yippeee! (That means we are almost finished.)

Not a biggie, really. I am taking care of it. But I can see it coming down to waiting for M to do his photos. Part of me is waiting to see how he deals with the pressure of having to take care of this piece. It's one of the few parts that I can't do for him. When *would* he get it done if I weren't hassling, I mean reminding, him about it? I often wonder. He will and does and has stepped up and taken care of things. But without me, he'd be equally as sunk as me without him. Poor tired baby.

So we might have our dossier in to our agency by the end of February, but I'm not setting my heart on it. But still! We are almost done!

Favorite Distractions and Meta Blogging

2007-02-17T17:44:00.000-08:00

I hardly know what to do with myself recently. Not that *that* is especailly uncommon, but I have a lot knocking around in my head.

I'm not doing that great in either of my classes, although I enjoy them. Sometimes the amount of information is overwhelming. I can see how it all fits together, and I can relate to that feeling of flying when it all comes together, but I'm not there yet, myself. I can do it in my other work, and I love it. In this new area, I'm still trying to get up to speed, or at least out of 2nd gear.

I sometimes take a long time to really get comfortable with new information. I currently feel I am being thrown into an amorphous situation in which I am asked to do more than I can figure out. Or rather, without more concrete parameters. I'm sure many people in a similar situation would have no idea what I am talking about! However, for me, my need for clear organization (and wanting to get it right) is really slowing me down. For example, being asked to come up with a lesson plan for some abstract class is just killing me. I brainstorm and come up with enough information to make 5 different levels! Yet I then have a hard time "deciding" what to program for because I don't have an actual class to work with and try things out on (unlike in my other work).

I am thinking to throw myself into a volunteer opportunity to make things more concrete for me. I actually learn better by *doing*, but I need the space to do something without my performance being explicitly judged, because then I just freeze up and don't want to risk exposing myself as imperfect.... *sigh* It's an unfortunate inheritance from my perfectionist parents!

So there's a volunteer opportunity which --on top of classes and all--would max out my weekday evenings for the next several months. But! I'm excited about it, too. I can learn only so much in my classes. I need real people to work with. I am trying to push myself to make progress here.... *ugh* So it's not my best situation, although I love the variety of other students in my classes.

Meanwhile, I've been distracted by other things.

* * * * * * *

It's only another few weeks before we go on our big backpacking trip. Without going into identifying details--hehe :) --I can say it's probably a once-in-a-lifetime event. We will certainly go backpacking again, but this particular trip takes so much effort--physical, financial, investment of preparation and time--that it may not happen again in the next decade if ever...

Anyhoo, my sister and I have been training for this the last several months. She's more out of shape and the least-experienced of any of us, so I have been working to help her become acclimated to the back-packing experience. It's actually been fun. Tonight or this evening, she, my Dad and I all went out for a hike together before dusk, while M stayed home and worked on his ever-present pile of work.

Today I remembered to bring our bathroom scale so we could all check the weight on our packs. We were all at about 30-35 lbs. That's 10 lbs. more than I want to carry on the trail, but tonight I had both our new tent and the new sleeping bag, when in practice, my husband carries the bags and cooking gear, and I carry the tent and extra fleece clothing. So when I first put the pack on tonight, I was like--OMG! But after 10 minutes of walking, my body adjusted enough that I forgot all about how heavy it was. I love it how my body does that. That adjustment happens every time I backpack. Then when I put on the pack, my body almost welcomes it. The pack is well broken in, so it rides comfortably and it's a familiar load... Even the usual hip bruises feel familiar.

Honestly, I feel pretty good. I've been carrying various weight loads for various miles throughout training. I don't feel achy afterwards or the next day. Tired, yes, and maybe a little sore in the feet or hips (sometimes shoulders, but the hips carry most of the weight), but achy and painful... eh, not really. In fact, I recently feel somehow "lighter" and physically more "alert" and lively. It's hard to describe, but I notice it now.

And on a similar note, I noticed this week that --amazingly enough -- my belly is getting smaller and my thighs are getting slimmer. I thought I was imagining things at first. M has been very encouraging. He reminds me that he also has to work, work, work for a while on his fitness without any apparent change, and then all of a sudden, things look and feel different.

I would love to get back to my college weight, back from when I could eat anything and still look like my cute skinny self (haha!). I'm assuming that won't happen, seeing as I really love my little truck, but I'm starting to dream that I'll get away from my relatively sedentary self I've become. Now that I'm not sitting in front of the computer for 12 hours a day and all that...

* * * * * * *

I'm also still distracted by my current work/love. I just love, love, love it! It's unfortunately virtually impossible to scrape together a living at it (and/or without traveling way more than I want to be away from home and M), but I still love it. I love helping people and helping them accomplish things while having fun. But meanwhile, when I try to work on other projects, it's calling me subliminally! I'm always looking at new material or practicing another presentation or looking for new gigs to undertake... And there is always more to learn and improve and/or speculate with my similarly-minded geek friends! So it's an perpetual distraction! :)

I also love my list of blog reads. I know, I don't have anything up on the blog. I had some once upon a time, and when I switched blogger accounts, that all went away, and I've been too lazy to even try to recreate it! But I have a great list of blogs and sites that I check in with daily, weekly or periodically. It's fun to run across people who write well, humorously and authentically and who make me laugh and make me think, inspire me and sometimes provoke me. I like sharing the small slice of their life and thoughts that they put out there for the rest of us. I like being exposed to different viewpoints, even if sometimes totally new and potentially uncomfortable. I read from other adoptive moms and dads, birth mothers, bloggers from various identities and life experiences. It gives me a lot to think about and process. On some issues such as birth and identity politics, I don't force myself to even decide what I think; I let things percolate for a while. Sometimes I read for sheer unproductive entertainment value, because somebody is just too funny. I feel for people undergoing challenging and painful times; I've been there myself at various times.

Recently, I've been searching for new readings, new finds. I go exploring and see who's out there. I put some new links in my bookmarks and try them out for a while. Some of them turn into keepers and favorites. I try to comment periodically, if I feel like I have something--anything!--worth saying!

I've lucked into a good streak of finding neat and interesting women bloggers recently. Most of them do not have one particular issue or topic that they fixate on (not that there's anything wrong with that! :)) but write about their lives with, of course, their predominant interests. I bask in their writing. ... Hmm I wonder if I need more women friends of this nature... I mean, more friends IRL (in real life).

... I've also been thinking about blogging and how some people manage to let a lot of their lives hang out--not in a bad way, but letting us see more of them. I always struggle with that because I am both expressive and private. I want to spill it all and then constantly rein myself back in. Haha! You can imagine my internal dialogues when I blog. So far, I've been blogging mostly about our adoption process. The blog has been a place to vent, or to note aggravations and triumphs along the way since it's so frustrating to try to talk to friends IRL about much of this.

I have been so inspired by some recent bloggers that I want to try talking more outside the adoption box. So I'm trying out the idea of revealing more of myself without outing my identity on the internet. To be more authentic and more multi-dimentional. Yeah, good luck with that, I tell myself. :) Well, it's a start. Thanks for listening.

* * * * * * *

Questions and Thoughts

2007-02-09T08:51:00.000-08:00

Finally, FINALLY, the US St@te Dept has finished with our last two documents, and the F3d Ex return shipment has started on its journey back to us! This has been an even longer wait than before--it'll be 3 weeks compared to about 2 for the earlier batch.

I had been checking the tracking number for weeks without so much as a peep, so I'm glad to see it has at least started home to us! I am preparing myself to whip those docs back out to the embassy the same day. And then we wait some more... although it tempts me to start hoping we finish by the end of Feb.

* * * * * *

Another friend asked me yesterday how things were going with the adoption process. I said Paperwork Paperwork Perseverance. She immediately jumped to how wunnnerful it will be when I travel to China. I explained to her that I can't even get worked up about that right now; I just have my head down to the grindstone working on the process.

She herself has done a dossier and gone through the same process (but it was a long time ago and things happened so nothing worked out--a long sad story that is not my place to tell). So she is probably reliving some of those times.

She said she felt like everything was on her shoulders to get it done and get it right, and she was hugely stressed until the dossier went off, and then it was ahhhhh, and she could relax and not worry anymore. I suspect I will be similar.

Yes, I get stressed, but I have to manage it so I don't get overworked. And there are some things that I deliberately try to not think about too much to avoid additional stress and frustration. Such as how long this is taking! Or how much longer we will wait to be matched. OR any number of things that could go wrong.

I do sometimes have mini fantasies about having our daughter home, the kinds of activities we might do together, the kind of challenges we might face. It's not so much the picking her up in China that I fantasize about; it's holding her at home and singing to her, or reading to her and showing her things in her world. That's why I need to be a parent--to share the amazing cool things about the world. And cuddle. And support and be firm when they test their limits. Taking her to the park, having a morning routine.

(... thinking about having our daughter home...........)

Anyway, I got all defensive when my friend asked and assumed things about my process, trying to be what felt like overly hopeful. She said that when she was waiting, the process started moving faster than they had been told.... Like she was trying to get me excited about maybe only a year. It took all my emotional strength to tell her, no, it was 12-14 months when we started, and then it went to 15-18, and now it's 18-24 and could easily get to 36 months before we are matched; and furthermore, any slowdown/speedup because of new requirements will happen behind us, not in front of us! I had to give her the little mini-lecture of how RQ and others have analyzed the number of dossiers matched each month and the number going in, and how the pile keeps getting taller and taller.... So I let her know that I could not even afford to start hoping for a 12 month turn-around!

So I did ok responding to my friend, but I definitly got more worked up than I'd like. I guess I don't like to be hurried into somebody else's fantasy (my friend never got to go to China). I know I get grouchy at being "pressured" by somebody else's emotional reaction. I just hate it. I know I am too-easily affected by other's emotional waves, I am too sensitive, I know, so I have to be super-vigilant against having my own stuff confused with somebody else's stuff. It took me many years to learn this about myself! But I function better if I am aware of and protect my sensitivities. (See: The Highly Sensitive Person, etc, eg http://www.hsperson.com/pages/hsp.htm with much interesting stuff.)

Anyway, I have been reflecting on how to do a better job of protecting myself and managing other people, as it were, because having a conspicuous family, this won't go away. And I don't want to be a bitch on a regular basis. You should have seen me when I was younger! Hoo-boy! lol But I have developed a thicker skin and am more comfortable with myself in the last few years. It's one of the advantages of gaining age. :) I have NO patience with others trying to define me, or trying to speak for me, or determine how I should act or be. I've lost a few so-called "friends" while I was growing out of allowing that. Sooo At least I have the stamina to see what others are doing and react with wry humor or a level of firm politeness. I guess I will do okay; I just know there will always be work to do.

I just don't know the answer to well-meaning friends and family who pop in without being part of (and therefor rarely aware of) the long, grinding process. Yes, I'm STILL doing paperwork. Welcome to my life.

In the Doldrums

2007-02-07T10:29:00.000-08:00

Not much going on here, recently. I mean, there is, actually. I have started my courses and have been enjoying them, although it's taken me some time to shift gears enough to give them the proper amount of attention. Must do homework!

But with the paperchase and all, things have slowed down to a crawl. The large packet of documents came back from the embassy a while ago. I was briefly alarmed because the authentication certificates had some Sonya Somebody listed instead of Condi, whereas the other docs had the Secretary of State's names on the form. My agency quickly set me straight... apparently somebody named Sonya Somebody signs things for Condi? Or something?? Okay, as long as the embassy has authenticated them with the proper seal, I guess I don't really care! But in that case, why hasn't this "Sonya" signed our last two documents by now? They are still up in DC awaiting the vital signatures for the last two weeks. I swear, it's like watching a rabbit go through a python..... ie boring and even more lengthy than anticipated. I am just trying to stay calm about this wait, 'cause you know those last docs THEN have to go to the Chinese embassy in DC for another intermitable number of days and weeks, and Aaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiigggghhhh!

So yes, I am trying to stay calm and occupy myself with other things.

It does not help when a friend asks me... "but I thought the last time you talked about this months ago, you were almost ready to send things off to be translated then" Yeah, well, *I* was ready, but the documents take their own sweet time.

And see, this is *exactly* why I don't share the process with too many friends or relatives. It's bad enough to be waiting on the minute details of the process. It's even more annoying to have other people asking you why it isn't done yet. And I don't want to be tempted to swear or scream in public.

I did get an opportunity to vent and roll my eyes when one of my mother's friends passed on some "adorable pictures" of her girls to me. Now, I didn't know this person at all, and as my husband pointed out, the question still remains: why did she know anything about our adopting since I'd asked my parents to not share that with people, huh??? But anyway, I guessed immediately that the only reason she was giving me pictures of her children that I don't know is that she had, yes, Chinese daughters! Whee! That for some reason she thought I would want to see their pictures since I was adopting. I still don't get this. I told my Mom that it was like an infertile woman having other people's babies thrust at her. My IF sister nodded her head...
I just do not get this. It's probably some misguided effort to be supportive, but again, other people's adoptive children do not automatically thrill me. I mean, I like children a lot, and I like meeting and talking to them as the people they are, but to assume that I will be more interested or like them more because they happen to belong to a particular group is just addled. And it's always awkward having people thrust at you for whatever reason.

Meanwhile, one acquaintance who was "thinking" about another adoptive child when we started the process has already LIDed. Meanwhile, an old acquaintance who got married the same day we did has had his child home two months! Yes, I feel jealous that we are that far "behind." I know they had both had earlier experiences that moved them along the process. I don't know why. It makes me sad. My husband pointed out that at every step along the way, we resisted having to shift to a new strategy and a new set of ideas. And it takes a while to get to the point that you feel good about where you are going and can shift strategies to make those life-changing decisions with some level of confidence or at least resoluteness.

* * * * * *

When I think about how long it took us to be convinced enough we had a problem... Well, I was concerned, but everyone else, including my husband, was very laid-back about things panning out. We knew so many people who had had their first child in their late 30s and early 40s, so we were just gleeful about having children ourselves even though by medical standards we were "old." We didn't realize we also knew a LOT of people who had *never* had children because of other, unexplained issues like IF. So yes, we see what we want to see. We don't like to think we have a problem.

Another big thing we were told was that there's no need to worry because "sometimes it can take a couple years for an older couple to conceive." Older meaning people older than 30-35! So we were encouraged to bide our time. MEANWHILE during all that waiting our parts were aging into crinkling balls of useless geonome material!!! Oh no, they don't tell you THAT. At least, not that you ever want to hear. Even the first doctor or two we saw were incredibly blase about our dwindling chances. Only one friend who had gone through her own saga of heartache ever told me that I shouldn't wait, and I was too convinced that we would end on the good side of the odds to listen. I was pissed when another friend was giving me grief about "waiting" during that brief period of time of "planning." Ha ha ha! So to be fair, we did not want to hear the worst. M the eternal optimist had to be convinced by repeated failure, even with medical intervention.

Nobody wants to hear the worst, even if it's happening to someone else. So when we tried, early on, to share what we were going through with other people, all we got were ridiculously blind platitudes and dismissive reactions. NO-body wants to hear about bad or sad things going on. Even another friend who had gone through her own IF story kept wanting to tell me that she "had a feeling it was going to happen" for me, which pissed me off no end. At least with her, I finally told her that it really didn't help and in fact made me feel worse because somebody else's feelings weren't going to up my odds. She's since become more sensitive. But I still end up catching other friends saying and doing things that are just obliviously mean. Like playing the odd tune: "It's so chic to be pregnant at christmas" at a holiday party so that we can all appreciate it. Someone who should know better if she had bothered to think about it. But yet, I have hid most of my reactions to these insensitivities. I LOOK like I'm doing okay. And mostly, I am doing okay. But still, it's like rubbing a raw patch to have people do and say these kinds of things.

* * * * * * *

When I saw my old acquaintance with his new [adopted] baby, I didn't press for details. I said--how wonderful and how old is now? And how long has he been home, and I'm so happy for you! Not wanting to rub any nerves about age, I opened up my mouth to say that I knew that the developmental age tended to get reset at adoption, but I got drowned out by another well-wisher and shut it again. I'm thrilled that he finally has his son. I don't really need to say anything else.

He told me that he was an incredible amount of work, but that the joy outweighs the work. And he said thanks for the good wishes. :) Can I get an Amen?

Tiny Details and Larger Themes

2007-01-22T15:00:00.000-08:00

The other birth certificate came back from the New York Chinese Embassy. This seal is a fancy silver & holographic seal on a small green form pasted to the back of the certificate. Very sharp-looking. The other one from Chicago added a separate page with red stamps. More "traditional" looking with all the red if you know what I mean. Interesting to see how the authentications differ from embassy to embassy.

The final copy of our homestudy finally arrived late last week, with a copy of what was sent to the CIS office, and two copies of the dossier country report, one for the dossier and an additional copy.

Of course, there were a few details that grabbed my attention and made me wonder whether we should worry about them. My philosophy is if we need to worry about doing something, we should get it done NOW!

So of course I had to contact my placing agency to see what was going on. I really don't bug them that often. This is only the second time I have contacted them about *anything* in the dossier process, but it is always some picky little detail that I don't quite believe in the documentation. In this case, I had to ask about some little detail showing up in our homestudy, but not being required in a separate report. It's been drilled into my head how important it is to have the homestudy and documentation match, and here was this errant detail that had no supporting report at all!! This was after we had been told we didn't need a separate report by our homestudy agency, blah-blah-blah :) So of course, I was like: whaaaa?

No doubt this was another instance of conflicting information that messes with my head...

... Such as the *additional* issue about whether the notary's commission expirations date needed to be good at the time that the match is made. The homestudy notary has barely a year before her commission expires, so naturally I was anxious, I mean, concerned. hehe

But when I called my dossier contact, she said neither of those issues were a problem. Being the picky, detailed-obsessed person that I am, I asked again for confirmation about the notary commission expirations, asking really, because I had heard that could be a problem. At THAT, she gave a sigh like she had had to answer to this question way more often than she'd like and said, "That's an unfortunate rumor." Paradoxically, that was convincing enough to reassure me that she wasn't holding out on something I should worry about! lol

Boy, did I feel like an idiot, though. I'm also a little disappointed. I was hoping for a little more hand-holding in the process. I am mostly very self sufficient, making lists and coordinating the various documents comings and goings like air traffic control. It's only on these little details that worry me, and then I need a live person to tell me that it's really, truly okay, that I've done exactly what I need to do.

So now that THAT's officially A-Okay (and my contact thinks I'm a flake), we sent off the homestudy and new document on their rounds together, (kee hee!) like the big sister taking care of the little sister. Wheee! If we are lucky, that will come back in time to get sent to DC this week, and then we *wait* until Ms Rice comes home to sign more documents... and then send them out to the next embassy in line and *wait* some more.... *whew* It is rather exhausting at times.

* * * * * *

Last week, I met my mother for lunch and had a good visit. I was telling her about the current state of the paperwork process, and about the list of blog posts on "Why China" which she was also curious about. I ended up telling her more about our decision-making process (which I will write up at some point), and even about the length of time (years) we had spent trying various other options, mostly medical.

I have to admit, I sometimes bludgeon people a little with black humor and gory detail if they get too breezy about our trials. If they want to dismiss all of OUR pain, yes, I CAN share details of loss and medical procedures and injectables and such--to help THEM feel a little part of our pain. Then they tend to think oops! Maybe it wasn't so easy afterall. Doing my small part of educate others. :) heheh

Of course, I have gained enough distance from those traumatic times to use them as a defensive weapon if necessary, to laugh and make jokes about what we went through. If I make somebody wince, I am not that sorry. Maybe they will be more sensitive to stepping where they don't belong. Cold of me, huh? Okay, I do try to be subtle about it, but the impulse to be blunt IS there. I am not obvious in my guilt trips. I am matter of fact, which is how I prefer it, but sometimes that does feel blunt.

Anyway, I was rather blasé about needles and such. After a while, my mother mused that she had not realized until some of our conversation this Christmas how much we had "gone through" before we pursued adoption. Not that we should share all the personal details, she hastily added. I'm taking that as a chagrined admission that she has not always been as sensitive to our situation as she might have been. No, not really. I mean, she was acknowledging that there was more to our process than she had been privy too. That we had good reasons for doing what we do, and she respected that.

Overall, it was a good conversation.

* * * * * *

On a completely different note, last weekend was chock-full of performance and success, acknowledgment and new opportunities opening up. I have no end point plotted out on this particular path, but I love what I'm doing! It's so satisfying that I will keep following it and see where it goes as long as its working. It's too self-identifying to speak about in detail here, but it works so well with my personality and aptitudes that it would be painful to NOT pursue it at this point.

Even my new variation on teaching will be quite interesting. The director of the program I'm soon starting asked me what I wanted to do with the certificate. I laughed and said I don't know! Maybe this possibility x, maybe that possibility y, maybe both or something altogether different. Maybe it will not work at all, but it has been calling to me, and so I owe it myself to explore the possibility. See where it leads me...

K has been leading me to think of the creative process again. Cool stuff. As the saying goes: ... dance like nobody's watching... For me, I add: live like your whole life is a work of art. It's not pretty like some art. Well, some of it is. Some of it makes friends and family say Wow! But most of it is messier and more fluid than others are sometimes happy with. But it does not help it develop if I try to cut it down to size to fit inside a particular box or frame. Living OUTside the frame, yeah. Being open to the flow and see where it leads me.

* * * * * *

Ethnically-Themed* Insults

2007-01-19T14:28:00.000-08:00

* "Not-Really-Racist" Noooo, no, not really. I didn't mean it. I was just trying to be, ya know, insulting, not racist. **snark alert!**

I spent some time thinking about this and working up a fine rant, and then thinking and writing more and rewriting. Here is what's left. I can't get the italics to work, so it may have lost some nuance. heh

* * * * * *

I have been hearing about the Indian actress in Briton who has been getting racist remarks lobbed at her on a reality show. Or as they claim, it's not racist. Oh, so it's only Indian-themed insults? Ooo. Now that's different. Shall we make lists of ethnically-themed insults that aren't really racist? No? Too close to the line? Well, it's not okay, then, is it?

http://www.theage.com.au/news/world/big-bother-speaks-volumes/2007/01/19/1169095979178.html?page=3

I find it interesting that the execs are describing this as Confronting the Stereotypes That Exist in our Society. Ahahahhahah. Really. What a lame, lame excuse. And so letting this ugly situation run on is helping us how??

I do not see how encouraging people to speak racist and ugly trash is helpful or elucidating. Just because you have trash in your mind does not mean you need to show it off. The show seems to be an excuse to release ones inner bully, beating up on anyone who might have a weak spot. Or to take sides vicariously, whether one secretly sides with the perpetrators or the object of the bullying. Not that this is unexpected on a show designed to encourage friction.
(A side thought: Maybe the SurvivOr ethnic teams were hoping for a little similar glimpse of the underbelly to boost ratings. What were they hoping for? "Dozens" at 20 paces?)

Okay, yeah, I get that such shows are set up so that the viewers get hooked into the conflict, even though it's the last thing I personally would want to watch. So I guess I'm not really surprised that someone is acting like a guttersnipe on television. Why is it that someone thinks they need to come up with something Indian-related to give the proper dig to a nasty taunt? Using the "otherness" as an insult, and THEN deny that they are not using that. That's what really astounds and steams me.

They asked the "actress" in question about her language. The article reports:
"Denying racism, Goody said: "She is Indian, thinking of an Indian name and the only thing I could think of was Indian food. Wasn't racial at all. It was not to offend any Indian out there. Everyone knows I don't like her. She don't like me." "

She calls her "Shilpa Pappadum" but not to offend any Indian out there? pu-LEASE. Lame, lame, lame. Hon? Uh, NOT okay. I am not a perfect person, but I was appropriately slapped down for such behavior in early _elementary school_ (which was, trust me, decades ago) and I have been trying to be a better human being ever since. How old is this person again? I can't say that the teevee execs are much better, excusing this as merely insults. How do you excuse a slap to swaths of society?? _Uh, forgive me; I was a moron?_

I have to say that such catty, racist remarks shows a person's lack of class. I am not a big fan of "class" as a social order, but it seems appropriate to say that verbally rolling around in the gutter indicates a lack of self-control and respect for other people. Someone who has been raised to be a decent human being can find other ways to disagree with someone than slinging stereotypes.

By some accounts, the perpetrators' careers are already suffering. Ehehehe. So there is some justice. And even TB as PM is having to "reaffirm Britain's opposition to racism." Karmic Shadenfreuden!

* * * * * * *

Another aspect of this is the denial from people who don't want to see the ugliness that exists. I don't want to see it either. But when someone gets slimed with hate, we are confronted with the flaw in our thinking that this never happens. In my own community, I have been really shocked and sad that others of certain ethnic groups experience racism and prejudicial hate on a regular basis. Just because I don't often see it or experience it personally does not deny that reality. I can't say "oh, that never happens here" if I am honest with myself.

Those of us adopting from the international or multi-ethnic community (what would be the proper word here?) have even more to think about. We are charged with raising and loving our children and helping them grow into fine upstanding adults. If we don't acknowledge that they will suffer racism, we are _denying their reality_ and doing a grave disservice to them as our child, not to _mention_ to the larger community! We can't just fantasize that we can always protect our children from ever experiencing racism (although I admit I do). We need to find ways to confront racism and to teach our children to defend their sense of self. We need ways to change our societies for the better so that racist thought, speech and action has no purchase.

*sigh* ... This topic is always larger than I can write.

* * * * * * *

Star Signatures

2007-01-15T10:11:00.000-08:00

Surprisingly enough, the big packet of documents coming from the St@te Department arrived this morning via F3dEx! Despite the federal holiday. I was especially surprised (yet pleased) because I had been looking up the tracking number every couple days and had seen no movement on it yet.

I was also very surprised to look down the first page and see the name C0nd0leeza Rice on the authentication statement. Doh! :) How could I forget. Yeah, she is our Secretray of St@te. So there it was: her scrawl on every authentication page. I am somehow amazed.

I had several thoughts in quick succession:
Wow, Condi touched all of our documents! (or at least the authentication pages)
Then: How do I feel about THAT, since I am not a fan. Ew, mixed thoughts. (several thoughts deleted)
Then: EEEeeeeeeee! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Finally: No wonder the packet took so long; she's been so darn busy selling the recent um, change, in troops numbers.

My husband joked, "So do you think the next time we need to send documents, we should look at her schedule?" Yeah, maybe we should get the next ones in before she leaves for the Mid-East later this week... We think that probably everytime she comes back into Washington, her secretaries have stacks and stacks of documents lined up and waiting for her to scrawl several hundred signatures at a time. Do you think she blocks out an hour a day just to sign documents? How else would you ever get it all done?

In any case, I am very happy to have that batch in hand after hearing *nada* for so long.

Even better, the final homestudy report has been tweaked and should be in our hands within the next couple days. So the paperwork seems to be coming together again after "resting" the last couple weeks. We still need to re-notorize a corrected document, blah, blah, blah. But that is small potatoes considering the larger picture of getting the dossier ready.

I'm feeling upbeat about finishing it in good time yet again. Do I hear the end of January, early February, can I get a January? Yesss! We have The End of January for the young lady in back! There are other important things happening, but I am focused on this.

* * * * * *