New Roommates

Meet our new roommates - my brother-in-law, Andy, and his girlfriend, Danielle.  They moved in with us because they sold Andy's townhouse and haven't yet found a house they haven't been outbid on.  It's clearly turned into a seller's market. 

A champagne toast to Andy closing on his townhouse earlier today!

Andy and Danielle traded a palace for the equivalent of a closet when they moved out of their three-story 2,000-square-foot modern townhouse into a 200-square-foot space in our 100-year-old home. They planned accordingly though, and arrived with just a bed, two dressers, their clothes, a bag of groceries, a few houseplants and their coffee-maker.  The latter was a smart concession to their light-packing because, believe it or not, Chris and I don't like coffee.  The remaining contents of their old home are packed into a storage unit.  Despite two very excited little boys jumping on their bed, they moved in and unpacked in an hour. 

We have an ulterior motive for inviting them to stay with us, besides of course some babysitting here and there.  We want to get them hooked on living in the city, and specifically, St. Paul.  After years of them far away in the exurbs, we want to keep them close, even when we're no longer living under the same roof.  In the meantime, we're going to enjoy the kids having their aunt and uncle around all the time.  This is an opportunity that won't come around again once these two find their forever home. 

Oliver Update: 4.5 Years

A friend with a five-year-old told me that she witnessed a huge change between four and five.  They grow so much intellectually at this age and I can see that in Oliver.  Sure, he hasn't left the "Why?" stage, but he can also ask really thought questions.  If he hears a word in conversation or in a book he doesn't understand, he asks me what it means.  And when I took him to hear a talk about how maple syrup is produced, I thought for sure he wasn't going to be able to follow it.  Not only was he really engaged, but he shot up his little hand from the back row to ask questions!  And this from a kid I've always considered kind of shy and not liking to be put on the spot.  Afterward, he couldn't wait to grab a bucket and walk out to the sugar bush to collect sap.  

For as Oliver's awe-inspiring maturation, there's one habit I had hoped he'd grown out of by this point and that is whining.  This kid has stamina when it comes to whining.  If we don't address the behavior, I wonder to myself if it's possible that he would just whine forever.  Instead, we work on using a pleasant tone of voice and setting boundaries.  We don't give in to whining (or try not to, but there are for sure times when he wears us down) and give him a choice about, for instance, sitting quietly at the dinner table, or whining in his bedroom. 

Yes, we still deal with a lot of whining (and crying) at meal times.  Oliver still has a lot of food issues and rarely likes anything we serve for dinner. At one point he announced that there were five acceptable dinner foods.  He rattled off noodles, pancakes, waffles and tortellini and then faltered as if his list was complete, but then changed his mind and added, "Oh, and sandwiches."

Despite the food battles we have at home, he does fine at daycare where he has zero choice over the breakfast, lunch and afternoon snack he's served.  The kids eat family-style, so maybe good old peer pressure plays a positive roll in that.  However, part of our routine when I drop him off at daycare is that I have to read the day's menu for him.  He always wants to know what he's having, which makes me wonder if dinner drama could be averted with a meal plan.  If I can get myself organized enough to plan meals for the week and have Oliver help me brainstorm, perhaps he'll be more open to what's being served.

Even though it seems like Oliver lives off of noodles, snacks, breakfast foods and sandwiches, he still manages to grow.  At 34 pounds, he can barely keep his size 4T pants on his waist, but the 3T became too short, so he officially moved on to the next size.  He still wears 4T shirts, but once spring is here, I think he'll be able to wear 5T tops.  At 41 inches tall, he's still a peanut for his age.  He'll always seem big to me because I will always be able to remember him at a younger age, and he seems so big in comparison, but when he stands next to his friends, it's apparent how much shorter he is than the rest of the kids his age.  I'm not worried about him being able to hold his own though.  If he gets even a bit of his father's athletic ability, he'll be able to outrun and outplay everyone.

It took many weeks for Oliver to get in the groove of the routine at his new daycare, but even on the days with tears, I think there was overall a lot he liked about daycare.  All the kids in his class are really nice and he has two teachers he is fond of.  Being downtown, the class walks to story time at the library, visits the Children's Museum and attends various events, like the Winter Carnival.  Oliver rode a school bus for the first time (a highlight for him!) when his class attended the Voices for Children Advocacy Day at the Capitol. 

Since Oliver goes to daycare full-time, his daycare serves as his preschool.  He's learning the foundation for reading, writing and math and science, music and art are part their week too.  With all the talk of kindergarten readiness, I have confidence Oliver will be plenty ready to start full-day kindergarten.  Because of his fall birthday, he'll go to school a year after his friends with summer birthdays and that extra year surely won't hurt. 

Oliver has grasped onto the idea of "theme" nights.  He likes having "movie night" and "pancake night" and any other theme night he can think up.  Sometimes it's just a regular old night with dinner, clean-up, a little playtime, and then bedtime, but he wants to know what kind of "night" we're going to have.  For some reason, "bath night" isn't an acceptable answer. 

Oliver and Soren act like you expect of siblings and there are times when the bickering, taunting, goading and tattle-taleing makes me want to scream.  And then there was the morning Oliver read Soren a book while I finished getting ready for work.  They climbed onto Soren's bed where Oliver "read" him a book he had memorized.  I don't think Soren had a clue that Oliver was reading the book from memory.  He had someone reading him a book and he was thrilled. 

Compassion

It's heart-breaking enough to think about placing your child for adoption, but abandoning your child just sounds evil.  "How could a mother do that?" I've been asked in exacerbation. I've heard everything from how parents don't deserve to have children if all they were going to do was abandon them, to questioning why someone would want to give away such a cute baby.

I know why a mother would do "that," as in, abandon her child.  Poverty.  I have compassion for the unimaginable because I can't imagine what it's possibly like to be in a situation where I don't have the resources to raise my child and/or get him or her necessary medical care.  No formula or food stamps or food shelves or school lunch programs.  No health insurance or knowledge of available medical treatments or access to clinics or cash to pay for medical treatments that require upfront payment.  No social security or pensions or retirement plans to not have to rely on a healthy son in order to survive in old age.  I can't even begin to imagine.  Even though extreme poverty and a spotty social welfare safety net exist in my own country, there's much we take for granted.

In China it's illegal to place your child for adoption.  If parents don't believe they have the means to raise their children, there's no option to make an adoption plan or even surrender their children.  Anonymous abandonment really is the only option.  That's why there's a common theme to finding stories of Chinese orphans.  They were left in public spots where they would be found quickly.  It's the best parents can do to ensure their child is taken to an orphanage and receives necessary care.     

With my whole heart I believe that birth parents don't abandon their children because they don't love them, but because they do love them.  I believe they want better for their children, and in cases where their children are really ill, they just hope they will live.  I have compassion for their heart-breaking realization that they will be unable to raise the children they desperately wanted to keep. 

Apostle Islands National Lakeshore

One rare opportunity came out of the bitter cold winter we've had.  The intricately carved sea caves along the mainland of Lake Superior and Sand Island and Devils Island within the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore became accessible by foot.  This hasn't happened since 2009.

As ice formed on the lake this winter, waves splashing against the rocks began to freeze on the sandstone cliffs.  In addition, water seeping between sandstone rock layers froze to form a variety of features similar to limestone caves.  There are also large icicles and formations hanging off of the cliffs, curtains and columns of ice and abundant ice crystals.  Some of the ice formations glow blue, while other pink because the reddish sand grains from the sandstone embedded in the ice.  The Pioneer Press described the ice caves as the "cathedral along the shore of Lake Superior" that winter built.

I desperately wanted to go see for myself, but with temperatures hitting the high 40s in St. Paul by mid-March, time was running out.  In a rare moment of spontaneity, I suggested to Chris that we take the kids on a weekend road trip to Bayfield, Wisconsin, the gateway to the Apostle Islands, and a four-hour drive from St. Paul.     

Saturday morning started out well.  We had arrived kind of late the night before, but had managed to quickly settle in for the night at the rental cottage and everyone slept reasonably well.  We woke up to sun and views of the lake from the living room window.  After breakfast, we loaded the van with the sleds, blankets and packs full of extra layers of warm clothing, water and snacks.  It looked like we had packed for an expedition across Antarctica. But with temperatures in the single digits, I thought it was better to be over-prepared. 

Unfortunately, everyone else in the Upper Midwest also wanted to see the ice caves before they melted.   Meyers Beach, which serves as the access point to the sea caves, welcomes about 35,000 visitors in a year, but the draw of the ice caves attracted 120,000 in the last two months.  We ended up having to park along a county road, walk a half a mile to the access road and another half a mile down to the lake. From the beach it was still over a mile walk to the first caves. 

The kids had started whining from the moment we parked the car and after walking a mile just to get to a big frozen lake, they weren't any happier.  We pressed ahead and hauled the kids, the sleds and all our gear down the stairs, across the beach and onto the lake.  Oliver was happy to get in the sled and not have to walk anymore, but Soren was NOT INTERESTED and he screamed and cried and carried on and no reasoning with him that he loves to ride in a sled was going to convince him otherwise.  He started crying for a snack, which we thought would surely cheer him up.  The second fail for the morning after not accounting for the additional mile of walking, was not taking the freezing temps into account regarding eating.  A very disappointed and disgruntle Soren had to take his gloves off to hold his snack and then bit into what we he discovered was a frozen granola bar.  Amidst his wailing I think I heard him scream that his mom and dad made him come to a frozen lake and fed him a frozen snack and now he was in a frozen hell.  I swear this is the kid who was accidentally born in Minnesota instead of Hawaii.

Chris offered to take Soren back to the car so I could hike on with Oliver.  He was happy to have the whole sled to himself and quickly made himself comfortable.  He stretched out on the sled, closed his eyes and enjoyed having me tow him along.  

Most of the pictures above I did not actually take.  Oliver wanted to turn back once we got to the first caves, which I conceded was a good idea since we had a long trek back to the car where Soren and Chris had been waiting the whole time.  After lunch in Bayfield, Chris dropped us off at the cottage so Soren could nap, and he drove back to Meyers Beach.  With more time and no sleds to haul, Chris was able to hike beyond the crowds and explore the more spectacular caves. 

On Sunday morning we checked out of our hotel early and visited Madeline Island before starting the four-hour drive back to St. Paul.  The island is quiet in the winter and on a Sunday morning, nothing was open, oh, and it was eight degrees, so there wasn't really anything to do there and we had no intention of leaving the warmth of the car.  Instead, my main interest in going was to drive on an ice road.  In warmer months, the island is only accessible by ferry, but when the lake freezes, you can drive the two and a half miles across.  Just past the marina where the ferry docks is a beach.  We drove across the beach and onto the ice.  Christmas trees planted in the ice marked the official road, but orange traffic cones marked the route based on actual ice conditions. 

Driving across the ice road towards Madeline Island

A view of Bayfield from Lake Superior

 

A wind sled is the Madeline Island version of a school bus! 

When the ice isn't stable enough for vehicle traffic, but hasn't broken up enough for a ferry to navigate the water, people travel on something called a wind sled.  It's a flat-bottomed airboat that can travel on ice, but will float if the ice isn't thick enough to support it.  

St. Patrick's Day Flowers

Saint Patrick's Day is as special to me as my anniversary, because without St. Patrick's Day, there would be no wedding anniversary.  Chris and I met eight years ago today and I don't take for granted how lucky I am that I met him that night.  I'm in awe of how a night out with friends to celebrate St. Patrick's Day could turn into love I thought I might never find and create the family I'm so thankful for today. 

What also made today so sweet is that I got to see Chris's sentimental side.  I'm by far the more emotional and sentimental one in the pair, so just when I wonder if I'm crazy for being so nostalgic about the anniversary of "the day we met," a bouquet of flowers shows up at my office.  A bouquet with dyed-green carnations and an accompanying dyed-green carnation boutonniere, because, it's St. Patrick's Day after all.  Attached was a heart-felt note saying how glad he is he met me eight year ago and how he looks forward to more of the best years of his life. 

This Too Shall Pass - OK Go

If you want a great analogy of how perfectly sequenced I feel like the adoption process needs to be, take a look at OK Go's video for their song, "This Too Shall Pass."

A few stats about the video:

• Nearly 60 people worked on the project.
• Six months to create the video from conceptualization, with two months of planning and four months for design and filming.
• The machine was constructed in a two-story warehouse from over 700 household objects, and traversed an estimated half-mile course.
• More than 30 people were needed to help reset the machine after each run.
• It took more than 60 takes, over the course of two days, to get it right.

The paperwork in the adoption process needs to be as well-timed and perfectly executed as the elaborate Rube Goldberg machine featured in the band's video.  The home study is contingent upon a strict protocol of meetings with a social worker, medical exams and background checks from the local police department and possibly multiple states.  Immigration approval is contingent upon the home study.  The dossier is contingent upon immigration approval.  The dossier is shipped from home to agency, to Chinese Embassy, to agency and then is loaded on a plane to China.  If you're lucky, this whole process only requires few "takes."  And that's just go get our dossier to China.  We're still learning what's in store after we're matched. 

But as they say, this too shall pass.

Feverish Hallucinations

Soren is sick a lot, but luckily never with anything too serious.  He can spike some pretty high fevers, but even those don't make me panic like they used to.  When I put him to bed Sunday night, I was hoping he would get a good night's sleep after not napping that day and having a croup-like cough that had kept lingering. 

He fell asleep quickly, but peaceful sleeping didn't last long.  He woke up repeatedly and had difficulty falling back asleep.  He woke us up yet again in the middle of the night and when I checked on him, he clearly wanted to sleep, but couldn't.  He looked miserable. I bent down to kiss him and his feverish body stung my lips.  His temperature was 104.  Much to his dismay, I forced a dose of Ibuprofen into him, and then tried comforting him until the medicine could kick in and hopefully relieve him enough so he could sleep.

I tucked Soren back into bed and snuggled with him.  One of his soothing techniques is to grab the front of my shirt and pull me closer to him and I thought for sure he would settle down.  That's when he lost it.  He shrieked a horrible scream and shoved me away from him.  His eyes darted around the room in a panic and he recoiled in terror from I don't know what.  I simultaneously tried comforting him and figuring out what he just spooked him so badly.  How could he be so calm one moment and fly into a terrified rage in the blink of an eye?

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, he calmed down and let me comfort him again.  The quiet didn't last long and he started shrieking again.  I was terrified as I watched him.  It was honestly like he was possessed. 

I carted him into our bedroom where the cycle continued of being uncomfortably sick, but still relatively calm, and morphing into a child who looked like the devil had taken him over.  Chris and I had no idea what to do and I was crying with fear and helplessness.  Finally accepting that something was really wrong, Chris and I started getting ready to go to the hospital.  And then Soren vomited on our bedroom floor.  I've never been so happy to see my child throw up.  It was like whatever had possessed him had left him and I had my Soren back.  His whole demeanor instantly changed.  He was still feverish, but not burning hot, and he was sick and tired, but calm as Chris and I cleaned him up.  He happily sipped on some juice and requested a snack, which I took as a good sign, even if he didn't eat it. 

I took both kids into the pediatrician the next day where Oliver was diagnosed with an ear infection and Soren with a double ear infection and croup.  I recounted the events of the night before and the pediatrician explained Soren's episodes were just fever-induced hallucinations.  It was a relief to learn that this is "normal," however terrifying for a parent. 

Cross-Country Skiing

Since Chris got to share his love of downhill skiing with Oliver earlier this winter, I was so excited to finally get him on cross-country skis. I feel like teaching him the sport of nordic skiing is his Minnesota birthright.  

A balmy Sunday afternoon (temps hit the mid-40s!) was the perfect time to get Oliver out of the house during Soren's nap time.  We met up with two of my friends and their kids at the Hyland Lake Park Reserve just south of Minneapolis.  The park has rentals and groomed trails with terrain gentle enough for beginners.   

So far so good....

This is what March looks like in Minnesota...snow-covered.

As the most experienced skier in the group, I realized everyone was looking to me to teach a bunch of four- and five-year-olds how to ski.  Our group shuffled on skis to the head of the trail.  Oliver chose the skiing equivalent of jumping off the deep end by insisting we go down a hill.  A couple feet down the trail, five of the six people in our party were lying on the snow in a tangled mess of skis and poles.  I wish we had a picture of that spectacle! And five of the six were still smiling and laughing.  Unfortunately, Oliver was not one of them.  

It turned out I didn't need to do much teaching.  Oliver wouldn't listen to me anyway and my friend's daughter Noelle happily took a few pointers (Bend your knees and lean forward!) before she was off down the hill and skiing towards the woods with our other friend's daughter in a determined pursuit. At least someone's kid was having fun!

Meanwhile, my son was in tears and wanted to go back to the lodge, where I think he thought he was going to get a hot chocolate.  So after only 20 yards onto the trail, we turned back.  Out of all the reasons he gave for why he didn't want to ski, his boots not fitting correctly was the only I had a chance at fixing.  So I exchanged his skis and boots for the toddler skis with the bindings that fit over his regular shoes and he reluctantly (very reluctantly) agreed to try skiing again for five minutes.  We held hands as we every so slowly skied back the same 20 yards we had tried before and although Oliver insisted he was not having fun, at least he wasn't crying anymore.

Proud of Oliver that he'd at least given skiing a second try, I was ready to hang out in the lodge having a snack while we waiting for the others to return.  Then I remembered the pulk sled for rent I'd seen at the ski rental desk.  Oliver likes riding in the stroller and bike trailer, so I was hoping he'd want to chill out in the sled while I pulled him on skis. 

The pulk sled salvaged our afternoon. That was $6 well spent! Oliver was happy to not be skiing and I put in the best workout on skis I've ever had pulling 40+ pounds.  It was a win-win. 

Noelle is actually the one riding in the sled in this picture.  When we got back to the lodge, the other kids wanted to give it a try.

When we got home, I discovered Oliver had a fever and he complained his ear hurt.  I felt so guilty for dragging a sick kid out skiing.  It turned out the poor little guy really wasn't feeling well.  Yet maybe that's why he didn't like skiing.  It just wasn't a good day for him.  There's hope for my nordic skier after all. 

Thinking More Seriously About Parental Leave

My meeting with HR to discuss options for parental leave revealed good news and bad news.  The good news is that per my union contract, I'm allowed to take six months of leave, and with manager's approval, I can take a year.  Anyone familiar with the inadequacy of parental leave policies in the United States will know it's rare to have this much guaranteed time off - with your job protected.  Of course there's a catch.

The bad news is not just that the time is unpaid, (unless I use vacation and sick leave, of which I only have about six weeks) but that my health insurance is only covered by my company during the 12 weeks of FMLA, as required by law.  After that point, the union-negotiated, unpaid Parental Leave applies for the next three months and I will be responsible for the entire cost of my family's medical insurance, which is about $1,500 a month.  My HR rep said that for this reason alone, very few employees take leave beyond what's covered by FMLA.

I carry our family's health insurance, which is a blessing, because I have access to a plan with low premiums, wide coverage and low deductibles and out-of-pocket costs.  I estimate that my hospitalization in May would have cost us at least $2,000 - $3,000 under Chris's insurance, but "only" $700 with mine.  With two kids already and a third whose "minor and correctable" need could require surgery, health insurance is a serious consideration.

I'm thankful for the 12 weeks of FMLA I qualify for and that it'll most likely be financially feasible to utilize every last hour of that leave, but I worry it won't be enough time.  I have no idea what needs our child will have, not just medically, but also from an attachment standpoint.  Will the nine weeks or so left of FMLA after we return from China be enough bonding time with our son?  Will he be ready so soon after meeting his new family to transition to full-time daycare or even a nanny?

Chris and I have a lot of time before we need to make a decision about parental leave.  And once we are matched, we'll hopefully have a better idea of our child's medical needs, which could assuage one part of my worry about adequate leave. 

Facebook Official

Although I tell everyone I meet about our adoption and have been very open about our journey, like many milestones that occur in the Facebook era, making news of our adoption "Facebook official" was the pinnacle of public announcements.  Since people know we are pursuing adoption, I was not expecting the outpouring of support my post received.  I got more "likes" on this single status update than I thought I had "friends." I think I received more responses than when I announced Oliver's and Soren's births.  In a process that is filled with so much excitement and anticipation, but also trepidations and unknowns, having support from so many people is uplifting.  I am so thankful for how excited they are for our family and how much they care.

Standing Up to Hurtful Adoption Comments

It's people like Kim Kelley-Wagner, who one parent at a time, are helping to make the world a more welcoming place for adoptees and their families.  Kim has two daughters, both adopted from China, and she started receiving hurtful comments made about her family from the time she brought her first child home.  They ranged from the misguided, "It is so nice of your mom to save you" to rude, "How much did she cost?" to the downright racist, "Why would you bring more immigrants into our country?"

The article "Mom's Photo Series Spotlights Racist Comments Directed at Daughters" reports on how Kim used photos posted on Facebook to call people out on their hurtful comments.  You can see the full photo gallery by clicking on the link in the article or going directly to Kim' Facebook page, "Things said to or about my adopted daughters...  And before anyone gets his or her undies in a bunch with accusations about Kim exploiting her daughters, she took on this project with their full consent and participation.  These are real comments her daughters have endured their entire lives and their mother gave them a platform to stand up for themselves. 

The photos hit home for me.  Even though we haven't adopted yet, I have already heard a bunch of these comments, or variations, when talking with friends, family and co-workers about adoption.  Many people haven't learned how to talk about adoption in a respectful way and therefore resort to talking about our future child's "real" family or they perpetuate uneducated beliefs about why children are abandoned (they hate girls, they don't like babies, their parents didn't love them enough to keep them...).  Sadly, in adopting a boy from China, I can only add to Kim's photo gallery.  Otherwise well-meaning people have made comments to me like, "I thought they only hate girls in China" or "I thought they only gave away their girls."

I don't share Kim's photos with the purpose of chastising, but rather in desperate hope that I can spare my children the comments that have been so pervasive in Kim's daughters' lives.