A shout out to my peeps...

CONGRATULATIONS to Summer and the Johnson's that got their court dates yesterday!!  I'm so happy for them.  I wrote someone else that the time between trips is the hardest because you heart and your mind are torn in two.  You try to focus on what is happening right here in front of you while constantly thinking about the little person that is waiting for you in Russia.

When we were waiting to go back for Jack there was not one single hour that passed in which he didn't cross my mind... not one single hour.  We wondered how he was doing, if he needed anything, if he remembered the brief time he had with us.  You've read the birthday post and how heartbreaking it was that he was alone on one the most celebrated birthdays a child has.  That first birthday is such a celebration of things, the culmination of a year of growth and change from a helpless infant to a toddler.

We did our best to re-live that year with him.  When he came home he could walk, but I carried him everywhere I could on my hip and in the Ergo.  He had learned to feed himself, but I fed him every meal.  He had learned to fall asleep without anyone holding him, I taught him to fall asleep in my arms.  He had weaned off the bottle, I put him back on and used it to establish eye contact and cuddling.  He had never had someone respond reliably to his cries, so he never cried when he was hungry or tired.  I responded to every single noise he made and taught him that I was there, no matter what.  (boy oh boy did he EVER figure out the crying thing!)

You may notice I'm saying "I" did this and that, so where was Daddy?  He was right there, every second.  He knew that the most important thing in a baby's life is his Mother, at least in the beginning.  He supported that initial bonding to me without hesitation.  He was home with us for the first four weeks and made sure that the house ran smoothly while we taught our son what a Mommy was, and what a family was.  I couldn't have done it if he wasn't there.  Jackson figured out pretty quickly that Daddy's chest was a totally awesome place to fall asleep and that Daddy's kisses tickled like Mommy's didn't.  He grew to love his Daddy just as much as he loved me.

Now that he's older, of course, Daddy rules the roost.  I'm just the glorified social secretary.  He still wants to cuddle and play with me, but once Daddy comes home at night, I'm second fiddle.  Fickle boy.  It doesn't matter... each morning he looks at me with those beautiful green eyes, sighs just a little, lays his head on my shoulder and says "Mommy, I love you all the way to the moon and back".

I don't mind being second fiddle at all.

Have I mentioned how much I HATE waiting?

Perhaps I should re-visit the topic.  I. HATE. WAITING.  Not that I didn't appreciate the break in airfare and the extra time we've had to get stuff ready, but come on already!  Can we go now?

Me with too much time on my hands is not a pretty thing.  If I say to Lance "Ooh, Honey what do you think about  - blank-?", he's going to kill me.  Kill me and stuff my body up the chimney.  I've packed one suitcase, read a blog about how their suitcase got lost, unpacked the suitcase to re-pack it into two carry ons, then decided that it was too much to carry, then unpacked again... you get the point.  I'm going to end up in Russia with one pair of underwear, a festive summer scarf and a pair of swim goggles if I don't stop playing luggage roulette!

I've tortured Nana with endless lists of exactly how Jack likes his breakfast, where we wait for the bus, when to give him snacks, and on and on and on.  It's not like the poor woman hasn't already successfully raised a child!  What do I think she's gonna do?  Throw him out in the backyard to forage for food with the dog?  And God bless her, she just pulls out a notepad and dutifully documents the insanity.

Did I tell you that Nana (brave soul that she is) is staying at our house with Jackson while we're gone?  She'll be taking care of the menagerie as well.  Her cat, our cat and our dog... four mouths and fourteen feet!  She'll also be filling the role of Jackson's social secretary, taking him to open gym at the YMCA, playdates at Monkey Joe's, gymnastics class and ensuring he's sitting in front of the computer at 12 noon to Skype every day with Daddy and me.  She is such a love, and she does it all with a smile!

Well, I've gotta go get ready for work.  Here's hoping all the families that are in Russia are having a great day (especially Mark and Sinzi), the ones that are getting ready to travel are safe and warm, and those that are waiting for phone calls get them soon!

Better living through chemistry...

A fellow adoptive parent recently left a comment about the wonders of Ambien in response to my post about insomnia.  Oh Ambien!  How do we love thee?  So here's an entertaining story about our experience with the drug on our first trip to Russia...

Like I mentioned before, I need very little reason not to sleep.  I blame my father, a veteran insomniac.  When I was a little girl, we would frequently depart on family vacations at 2 a.m. because Daddy would be all keyed up and unable to sleep.  In his mind, it was a good idea to get "an early start".  Sure, Daddy. Dragging two sleeping little girls out to the car in the middle of the night... great idea.  I cannot remember one single vacation that didn't begin with my bleary eyes seeing the sunrise through a car window at sixty miles an hour.  As a result, the very mention of any trip anywhere evokes an intense need on my part to bound out of bed at o'dark thirty and let the fun commence.

But I digress... we were discussing Ambien, right?  Lance and I thought we had this whole thing wired.  We were going to take Ambien on the plane, right after the meal and sleep through to Moscow.  We had our dorky little neck pillows and our precious little eye masks and earplugs to ease our way into blissful slumber.  We board and get settled, get fed and then drug ourselves.  At some point during the flight I awaken with my neck crooked into an unnatural position and panic for just a moment, convinced I'm paralyzed because I can't feel my arms.  Stupid neck pillow!  All I've managed to do is stick it to my face with a runner of drool.  Pretty, huh?  My eye mask is askew and I've lost an earplug.  WTH?  Then I notice that Lance is gone.  Hmm, he must have gone to the bathroom.  Good idea, perhaps I'll go, too.

Have you ever tried to walk a straight line on Ambien on a moving aircraft?  I was careening from seat to seat like a drunk senior on prom night.  I made it there and back again safely.  But where is Lance?  After a little bit he shows up looking a little horrified.  "I woke up in the bathroom!"  he says.  "I don't remember getting up to go at all!"  Apparently he came to on the pooper with his pants around his ankles and a ring around his fanny.  He'd been there for quite some time, dozing happily.  Like any good wife, I express concern and ask if he's okay.  Yeah, right... I start laughing like a hyena.  What a supportive spouse.

Fast forward to when we bring Jackson home.  We've all been home for a couple of days and are trying to adapt our body clocks back twelve hours.  Poor Jack is waking up crying and confused several times a night and needs soothing.  I am a red-eyed mumbling, bumbling zombie so my dearly beloved suggests that I take some more of the wonder drug to get some good sleep.

The next morning he begins telling me about poor Jack and how upset he was last night when I didn't come to his room.  I start in with a harangue, "Why didn't you get me up?  blah, blah, blah"  He looks at me, sincerely confused.  "But you DID get up.  You came into the room and took the baby from me.  You rocked him back to sleep, then went back to bed."  he says.  "WHAT!!"  I yell.  "You just handed him over to me?  Was I even awake?"  "I don't know, you seemed okay." he says, "You didn't say anything, you just took him."

Way to go guys.  At least I functioned appropriately while I was sleep walking.  I didn't drop the baby, or put him in the freezer.  AND... at least I got some good sleep, right?  Better living through chemistry.  I strongly recommend it.

You may submit me for Mother of the Year at any time... go ahead, you know you want to.

I have a confession...

I do not understand the World Wide Web and how it relates to my computer... the whole language of LAN, RAM, ISP, etc. quite frankly baffles me.  I know I own a Mac laptop, and that it has a pretty, shiny red cover.  I know that I don't have it connected to anything because we have something called an "Airport Express".  I know that when I turn it on, it automatically does everything I require of it without my asking. That is all I know.

If I take my pretty, shiny red Macbook with me to Russia, will it work there?  Do I have to tell it to do something special, or will it understand where it is?  Does it matter where it is?  Will my iGoogle page and my blog work over there like they do here?  If I can't access my email, weather page and my horoscope, I may likely stop breathing.  What if someone tags me in a photo on Facebook?  I would have to wait an entire week to know it!

We are renting an apartment with Peace Travel... they have free internet.  Will it like my Mac?  So many things don't.  Do I have to bring a cable to connect it to the internet, or should I be able to find some WiFi connection somewhere?  Is WiFi the same in Russia as it is here?  There must be a reason it's called the World Wide Web, right?

I bought the Mac because my brother in law Dave said I had to.  He said it was "vastly superior" to other computers.  All I know is that I had to get used to closing the little windows on the other side, and that when I turn it on it makes the same sound that WALL-E does in the movie.  My computer is WAAAAY smarter than I am.

Can someone help me?  I would hate to take my pretty, shiny red Macbook with me to Russia and have it be unhappy there.

My name is Kim, and I am a technological moron.

We've got our Visas...

WHEW!!  Man is that a relief.  I don't ever want to be sitting by the front door sweating the Fedex man's arrival like we did for Jackson's trips.  Poor Lance says he's overcome by nausea every time he sees a Russian visa after the "Great Russian Visa Incident of 2006" when he botched the dates.

Alrighty, we are one step closer to traveling and this makes it seems more like a reality.  Well, this and the four lists my husband sent me this morning reminding me of all the stuff we need to get done!  When Lance gets nervous, he makes lists.  Currently, he has four... five if you count the list he has to keep track of his lists.  When I get nervous, I don't sleep.  I've been operating on 3-4 hours of sleep a night for the last couple of weeks or so.

I took a Unisom last night and was able to get a full nights sleep, but woke up this morning all dried out and hung over feeling.  It's almost not worth it, you know?

We got to meet a lovely family yesterday that lives in our town.  Her little guys are from Russia, her oldest has been home for a little over three years and her youngest just came home in June 2009.  They're both so cute and sweet.  However, as she chased the littlest one hither and yon all over the play place I was reminded that my days as a "remote control" Mommy are going to be over for a while.

Now, when we go somewhere, all I have to do is make eye contact with Jack and give him the "come here" sign.  He runs right over and give me a nice, polite "Yes, Mommy?"  See, remote control!  The new little guy is going to require me running right behind him to keep him from killing himself, just like Jack did when he was little.  ~sigh~  Does this give you ANY clue as to how lazy I am?

Now back to the other little guy... as he was playing, she scooped him up and gave him the patented Mommy Bootie Sniff to confirm that the hideous odor she noted (not that I did) was indeed coming from  little man's bottom.  Awww, MAN!!  I forgot all about diapers!!  I'm gonna have to change diapers again!!  Do you know how much I HATE changing poopy diapers?  The day Jack trained to poop in the toilet was declared a National holiday in our home.  Crap... I can't believe I forgot about poopy diapers (no pun intended).

That's all the news that is news around here today...

Well now what I am supposed to talk about?

I guess I'm pretty tapped out until we head out to Moscow in a couple of weeks.  I've seen photos of the soon-to-be sons of some of my peeps and it's making me so exited!  Traveling blind is different.  With Jackson, we had a little face to ooh and aah over, it made it seem more real somehow.  There was a clearly defined little human at the end of it.  This trip seems more abstract... there SHOULD be a little guy, we HOPE there's a little guy, but we really don't know how it's gonna go.  I'm definitely an optimist, I tend to believe that things are going to work out just fabulously, here we go... la la la.  But this experience, and the uncertainties associated with it are making me a little nervous.

I'm a big believer in destiny.  Things work out the way and in the time they're supposed to.  It never fails that when I need something to happen, it does.  When I'm looking for is 75 cents, I can always find a dollar somewhere.  Is that God working in my life?  I'd like to think so.  I don't think life is a random cycle of events.  I think we're all part of a greater plan, and that I meet the people I need to meet and have the experiences that I need to have.

I wish I had a bit more faith.  I'm trying so hard to relax and let the process unfold as it should.  I wish I knew how to pray a little bit better, and to be more quiet and attentive to the answers that I know are out there.  I know I'll be taken care of, I just need to let it happen.

Soo... (taking a deep breath) here we go... la la la!

PS- Excuse me, but did I just type that we were going to Moscow in a couple of weeks?  OH MY GOD!  We're going to Moscow!  I leave you now in a Wile E. Coyote cloud of dust and tumbleweeds... I've gotta get out of here!

Tears, laughter and a bump on the head... the final chapter

We're WHERE?!? Apparently I yelled this, because I startled several Russians. (actually I believe I said a very bad curse word in there as well, and that may have been what got their attention)

We're in St. Petersburg. And no, I'm not kidding. There was "bad" weather in Moscow (what bad weather, my DH asks, a light northeast wind?) so they let us circle for a bit then sent us off to sunny St. Pete. And it's another hour plus flight back to Moscow once we re-fuel. Frigging PERFECT!!! After an hour on the ground we are cleared to take off again. At any point do we see a flight attendant? No water, no apologies. They're sitting in the galley, yucking it up and sipping BonAqua. My son is getting grumpy, we're out of food for him.... and us.

When we finally land, our simple four hour flight has evolved into a seven and a half hour ordeal. We get in contact with all the right folks and they agree to meet us at the rental apartment to give us the keys.

Baby boy finally falls asleep in Mommy's arms on the way to the apartment. We get in the building go up to the apartment... no one is there. We call them back. Oh she'll be there in twenty minutes. Now if you recall, in our last baggage check, we were minus one stroller. A twenty pound sleeping baby is like holding twenty pounds of wet sand.... and we wait.

She gets there with the keys and lets us in... ooohh, balloons!! How sweet!! They decorated for us!! What a sap!! No, they had a party in the apartment last night and this is the aftermath. Beer bottles and cigarette butts, food on the floor and flies buzzing some left over grapes. Nice, very nice. The good news is that Jack is awake. The bad news is that Jack is awake. I have nowhere to set him down. The floor is filthy. So I hold him some more. Those of you that have held onto to an active one year that doesn't wish to be held know what the next 45 minutes were like. I'm still trying to block them out.... it's hard.

(His first bath... and he's digging it!)

Okay, apartment is clean, baby and parents are fed... life has resumed a fairly steady course. We spend the next couple of days just enjoying our beautiful son. We nickname him "howler monkey" because every time I leave his sight he cries and launches himself at me upon my return. Daddy just doesn't do it for him anymore. This is good for attachment, but very hard on Daddy. I can tell he's trying to take it in stride, but he's been waiting for so long for this moment... to have your new son scream when you touch him is unbearable.

                        (the obligatory St. Basil's photo... can you see the bruise over his right eye?)

Except for this, things go very well in our apartment. Jack naps twice a day, he's sleeping pretty well. He is funny and sweet and adorable... more than I ever imagined. One afternoon, he was sleepy and we lay down together on the bed, face to face. He laid there, touching my cheek, my nose, my mouth... all the while staring right into my eyes. I was afraid to breathe, but absolutely captivated by his gaze. Those beautiful blue eyes were curious and questioning. It was almost like he made a decision to give it a try... to try and trust me. It's a very scary thing to have someone believe in you.

The flight home was exceptionally painless. He slept six of the eleven hours and the other five was so pleasant and cheerful, passers by commented on his lovely disposition.

We've been home now for six days, and things are settling out well. He's definitely a two nap a day boy and in bed every night at 7pm to sleep until 6 or so. He's eating everything in sight, the pediatrician thinks he looks fabulous and he still loves his Mommy. Unfortunately Mommy came down with Giardia the day after we got home. The good that came of it was that he HAD to let Daddy take care of him while Mommy worshipped the porcelain Goddess. Upside is that now Daddy can play with and hold him... he still only wants Mommy for boo-boos, bedtime and bottles. It's pretty cool to have someone that thinks you totally rock!!

We've had two more injuries... any more and DFACS is coming to my house. There was an incident with the bookshelf... the bookshelf won. Add a matching bruise to the left eye. Then there was an altercation with the IKEA table and chairs set we had... they came out the winner as well. Score one badly bitten lip with blood on my baseboards. Quite theatrical. The table and chairs have been temporarily relocated to a less dangerous locale.

I've been at this for about two hours now, listening to him snore on the monitor. I'd better get in bed before it gets much later... tomorrow is going to be another great day!!  I will keep you posted on the good, the bad and the ugly. The honeymoon will have to end eventually.  We will attachment parent this baby forever, because he has suffered an unimaginable loss... his birthmother, his country and the only life he's ever known.

I'd like to end this by saying that this has been the single best experience of our lives. Please continue to believe in miracles, because they really do happen every day. I've got proof.... lying right upstairs.

Current day...

Man, oh man does that bring back memories!  He's still our miracle, and it still ranks up there as the single best experience of our lives.  Here's looking forward to new experiences, new miracles and many, many new memories.


Jack-Jack, we love you sooooo much!!  You are everything we've hoped and dreamed of.  You are smart, funny, kind and thoughtful... not to mention one of the cutest darn kids I know.  We are proud and blessed to be your parents.


We love you Buddy... MUAH!