Missed Our Flight Blues

Look. We were all ready to go. Three huge suitcases of donations, our stuff, baby stuff, the laptop for updates, the camera...
So far we have spent $200 to drag it to the airport and back home again.
I should not be blogging right now. I should be on a plane to Washington and then Ethiopia. The Damn husband had a bit of math trouble in choosing our departure time. I trusted him. The rainbow cab driver (no rainbow in sight)drove 25 miles an hour because he was afraid of deer. The line at the United counter was endless. When we got to the counter they no longer have humans helping you so you book everything through a machine. And just like the grocery store automated checkout, it can’t deal with anything unusual. It booted us out of the system because the ticket said we had an infant to check in for a lap seat. The piece of plastic automation did not care that we do not have our child yet and we only need this on the way home. So we were put in the ‘trouble’ line where only one man was working with a power attitude and by the time we got to him he declared we were too late to check our bags in. Next. We could have made it, but he had the authority to say no and seemed to enjoy it. He couldn’t care less that all I want to do is hold my baby. Such irony that the baby ticket is what did us in.
We woke up our LA travel agent and she is working on finding us another flight. I am going to go find something chocolate to eat.

Here is Michael, in full missed-our-flight-blues, waiting to hear back from the travel agent. No picture of me because no one likes to see a grown woman sobbing in an airport terminal.

I'm just not getting that warm holiday feeling.

Happy New Year

Happy New Year!!
A New Year and new beginnings. I love the thought of new beginnings. I always have. I love the idea of starting over. Like confession, your sins can be washed away and you can once again have the clean soul you have always imagined. I remember that feeling as a kid. (what did I really have to confess then?) of coming out of church after being absolved of my sins and going out into the bright light of day and really feeling clean, forgiven and good. Later when I no longer bought the confession story, I could still feel the black spots landing on my soul but I no longer had a way to get them off again. Now that I have found the site Come Clean, that option is back for me. What fun!! To wash away my sins!! Try it. It is very satisfying. I hadn’t been to the site in a very long time and it was so satisfying this morning!!! A sweet woman offers to wash away your sins. You write down your confession and it appears on her hand and she washes it away. Goodbye sins. So much more fun then going to see a priest. Ah, so on the first day of the New Year, I have come clean. All of you drifted Catholics will love this site.

I am thinking of all the New Year’s resolutions I have made in my life. I remember my teenage resolution to never leave my things on my mother’s dining room table or the stairs and to always make my bed so that my mother would like me. It was unsuccessful in every way.

This year, even though I have decided to skip the resolution ordeal, ideas are still rolling around in my head. It is so irresistible to think about things being different, that I could be different, better, more improved, perfect. I will be a better mother, I will stop blaming the damn husband for everything, I will lose weight, eat right, be right, stop worrying, help others more, change the world, keep a clean house, walk the dog everyday, run a marathon, start a new career, make money from the old career, leap buildings in a single bound,..

This was my last morning to sleep in but of course I couldn't. I woke up at 4am with my mind racing. I stayed in bed curled up with Mikaela for an hour relishing her smell and warm body, taking in the snuggles that I will be missing for the next 10 days. Leaving one child to get another.

Why Ethiopia? SO many people have asked me that. Because that is where my children are.
An art director I really liked working with curled up his nose when he heard as though it were the most distasteful thing he could imagine. I wanted to hurt him. I still do. A vendor I know at the farmer’s market asked, how do I know I will get a child without any problems, what are my guarantees? That was the end of my purchasing sheep cheese. Someone else asked if I had a time periods where I could give them back if things weren’t working out. Oh yeah it is a thirty-day money back guarantee. They come with return postage. Just like your real kids. The stupid comments could win awards: if you were okay with having a black baby, couldn’t you get one in this country for cheaper? Oh, you couldn’t have any more real children? When you get over there can you switch children if you feel like something is wrong with the ones assigned to you? You should really think about what you are doing. I have a friend who adopted and it was such a nightmare for them. On and on the comments go. I WASH THEM AWAY!!!!!

As a child I was told to finish all the food on my plate because there are starving children in Ethiopia. They are dying in the streets. I remember the feeling that gave me in the pit of my stomach as I stared, ungrateful child, at the food on my plate that I didn’t want to eat. How would eating my food help them? The guilt was enormous. I remember wanting to collect food and send it to Ethiopia and being told we couldn’t do that. I am fortunate and others are not. I am ungrateful. So with every meal I had,the guilt piled up with the uneaten food and there they were, the children dying in the streets so far away and somehow I was making it worse not better.

Two years ago I read an article written by Melissa Fay Green, the author of There is No Me Without You, telling her story of adopting her daughter from Ethiopia. I couldn’t stop crying because I knew then that my children were there waiting for me. It has been a straight path from there, but not an easy one. I worry about so many things – where the money will come from, the potential for corruption, how my family will blend together as one, but knowing that it would happen, and knowing all the time that Ethiopia is where my other children are. That is where my children are, and I am going to them tomorrow.

Blessings

I feel a wonderful sense of calm this morning. I leave in two days and I am ready, not packed or finished my to-do lists, but ready regardless. This is the life I have chosen and here it comes full speed ahead and I am happily waiting to meet it. My son will soon be in my arms.
Yesterday my friends surprised me by coming over and throwing me a little going away party. So sweet and just what I needed. Thanks Megan, Lisa D, Lisa C., Kelly, and Colleen. It was wonderful to take a break and appreciate my friends and my blessings.

Christmas memories

Opening stockings
I love stockings. My fondest Christmas memory involves waking up Christmas morning and finding my stocking at the foot of my bed. Michael and Mikaela with their stockings before they are fully awake.


Nothing beats that look of joy when she comes downstairs and sees that Santa has been here.


Mikaela relishing her new horse stable


Christmas morning with a good cup of coffee- a great combination! I am wearing my new polka dot sling from Santa.


I spent an hour looking for a poem that I wrote years ago about Christmas. I couldn’t find it. The poem was about an old cassette tape I had found recording Christmas morning when I was young. My sister’s voices were filled with teenager angst and sarcasm “oh great a flannel nightgown, like we get every year.” And my child voice was filled with giggles. “I got everything I’ve ever wanted”
Mikaela was at that age this Christmas when everything was exciting. “Santa knows just what I love” That wonderful feeling of magic, fulfilled by peppermints in the foot of her stocking and many dollar store gifts and thrift shop finds under the tree.The best gift was a horse stable. (Thanks Stacey! Christmas was saved!!) Do you remember that feeling of magic when everything felt perfect? I remember. I asked Santa for a red wagon and I got one!!! Wishes come true. Months ago Mikaela said maybe she would get her brother for Christmas. I remember shaking my head and telling her it wouldn’t happen that soon and now here we are leaving January 2nd to pick him up and bring him home.

Bonnie came over yesterday to bring me some supplies for my trip. For me this was such a gift, the supplies were great but the company was worth so much more! I felt so lucky to sit over tea and chat with someone who really knew what I was feeling days away from picking up my son and meeting my daughter- she is a well-seasoned adoptive parent. It feels like months since I have been able to speak with anyone about how I feel.
The Damn husband put a stop to this right after we received our travel date for Temesgen: “If you are going to be a freak for weeks you are going to make all of us insane.” I get that I was making him insane. He has his own worries and wants and needs that occupy his mind. What I wanted was to sit down and share with him all the things that I was thinking and feeling and get all the fear and worry and happiness out and hear about what he was thinking. He was exhausted just looking at me so it didn’t go any further. Last night Bonnie kept trying to leave and somehow we would fall back into conversation for another twenty minutes. I slept through the night last night for the first time in weeks. Thanks Bonnie. I realize I have been so lonely. Some friendships have shifted lately and I am left feeling responsible but not knowing what has caused the change. In this tumultrious time I feel disconnected and alone. Do I have the superpowers to mother three children successfully? Can I make the leap from the way I was raised to the way I want to raise my children? Where is my cape?

The Lodge

Winter Solstice at Ashland.




I tried to forget all the things I had to do and escaped with Mikaela for the weekend. I realized that this will be the last time Mikaela and I will spend time alone together before our family gets bigger and more complicated. I feel a great deal of sadness around this. I want to hold onto this time I have with her. She is excited to have a new brother and sister but I know she has no concept of how much her life will be changing. I’m sure there will be times when she begs me to send them back.

The damn husband was grumpy and bailed. When I first asked him about the trip weeks ago he said it sounded like fun but that was when it was far away. Up close he began making excuses. He wanted to have time to work on his music and said his skin was too dry- it was too cold- this is my thing not his- and then he starts his broken record of: you want me to be just like you and now I am going to pay for it if I’m not - they are your friends not mine- everyone will be eating rabbit food- now you will try to make me feel guilty for not going, blah, blah. I made the mistake of saying as we are heading out the door that I wish he were coming which started this particular rampage. It is always something I do that ‘makes him” flip. He makes leaving him easy by making me so angry that I leave with the fantasy that I am running away from home forever. Damn husband. I actually felt sorry for him when it turned out he had to stay home and work instead of playing music. So he had quality time with Wanda (the dog) and Mikaela and I were off for a weekend adventure.


We joined ten other families sleeping over also- it was a giant slumber Party! As soon as I saw the large room filled with bunk beds I was instantly thrown into thoughts about the orphanage in Ethiopia where the children sleep two to a bed in a room set up in a similar way. I spent the night listening to the sound of others sleeping and imagined how it is for my daughter, Yaebsera to sleep each night. I wonder who her bedmate is. I wonder about so many things about her…



Bird watching, great food, wonderful women knitting and chatting, music and stories by the fire, cutting snowflakes, dressing up in clothes and masks from the Lenape Indians. And just slowing down for a little while. I am so lucky to have such wonderful friends.




Everything seems so easy here. How can I make cooking feel like so much fun at home? That would be easy. Cook for this gang instead of my family that complains about everything I make!

Here is one prepared mama!! She's got her tools of the trade and she is camping in style!!!


Paul took us on a night hike and taught us about visual purple, the way our eyes adjust to seeing in the dark. It took about twenty minutes for our eyes to refocus completely so that we could see without any flashlights. When our eyes are without light our rods fill up with liquid and enable us to see in the dark. I’m sure the full moon helped but this was really amazing.

Mikaela: I’m like a cat and I can see in the dark.
Jonah: I can see better at night then I can during the day.
They look at each other as thought they have just met their soul mate. They hold hands and run in front of the group skipping easily on the path with their purple vision.

Thanks Megan for organizing this trip. The timing was perfect. Now I am off to pack for Ethiopia and prepare for the new life we have chosen.

God is everywhere, including my blog

Here I am, working away at my blog but not really telling anyone about it. I thought sooner or later someone might find it, but who knew it would be God? He is currently the only follower signed up to receive updates from my blog. (Shouldn’t I be the one, following God?) He never posts or comments but I know he is there. How like God to always leave me guessing as to whether or not I am in good graces. It is hard to tell if God is on my side or only watching me in a you-are-in-charge-of-your-own-destiny kind of way. Anyway, welcome God to my wandering blog.

This got me thinking what it would be like to be God. Would it be like creating a work of art and then sitting back, taking it all in, thinking about what you find works about the creation, and what you would do differently next time? Or would you constantly rework it, change little things, answer someone’s request, kick up a big storm? I don’t think I would be able to be as hands off as God the now seems to be about some things that happen here. When I make something (small things like potholders, not big things like galaxies) there is always things I wish I could change but often I worry that going in and trying to fix things will only make it worse. If I were playing God, I would start small. For starters, I would make chocolate the most nutritious food possible, one that we should eat several times a day to keep our bodies healthy. A little change that would truly make the world a better place to live. I think I could take a little lesson from my dad. When I was young, I would cringe when he would train our dog, but now I can see some advantages for this style in other situations. My father was old school when it came to dog training. When he was housebreaking our dog, Sam he would grab her by the scruff and drag her and push her nose into any mess that was found in the house and holler, Bad dog, No Sam. Then he would push her outside and leave her there for a while especially if she barked or whined. I think I would like to use that same technique with several people that have left big messes around our planet. I would start by grabbing George by the back of the neck: Bad George, No George and leave him in Iraq even if he whined.


My daughter playing with her wooden train set gave me another idea. I really appreciate that God lets us make our own decisions, but sometimes I think people need a little help in learning how to get along with others better. They need a little nudge to help them make the right decisions. Wouldn’t it be great to be able to police the world, just a little? For example, the guy driving right on someone’s tail (usually mine) or swerving in and out of traffic. I picture being able to reach down and pluck the car up with two fingers like my daughter does when a train section derails. I’d look at the culprit, shake my finger at him and put the car down in some inconvenient place to make sure he learned his lesson. Like on top of a building or up in a tree.


If God were in human form I think he/she is either a gay man or a woman but I lean towards a gay man because you’ve got to admit the overall design of the universe is pretty lavishly over the top. This planet is a beautiful work of art. If you doubt this, watch the BBC production Planet Earth.

Dec. 13th 2008
He’s ours. Every finger every toe. We passed court on December 12th. In the adoption world that translates to my baby being legally mine. I know so little about him and he is my son. I’ve seen his smile, never heard his cry. When Mikaela was born and I finally came out of my drug-induced shock about having had a c-section, I gave her a full inspection. I took off her little clothes and examined every inch, turning her over and touching her smooth skin. Temesgen will be nine months old by the time I get to do this.

Mikaela had her first sleep over at Aunt Barbara’s in preparation for Michael and I traveling to Ethiopia. After a brief cry of wanting to go home, she snuggled in with Aunt Barb and went to sleep. It was after 11pm so she probably passed out from exhaustion. And of course, she was up early. After spending a week with Barb where she gets to watch TV, eat junk food and stay up late, she may never want to come home.



It is 5am and I am typing this curled up on the couch. I love the early morning hours when it is quiet and peaceful.

That last sentence is an extreme romancing of the truth. It is quiet with the exception of the noises the cats are making as they eat plastic and whine to be fed and the dog’s snarfing noise as she licks her butt in her crate. Oh, and there is the hacking emphazema cough of my neighbor as he lets his dogs out and the upstairs snores coming from the damn husband. Oh the lovely sounds of morning. And still I love the early morning hours. I am sitting in front of the Christmas tree that has a mass of ornaments piled on it, heavier on the bottom where Mikaela can reach. In 16 days I will hold my son for the first time. Will I ever have a quiet morning again? Sometimes I think I must be crazy for taking this on. I feel so ill prepared in so many ways. I had so much stuff when Mikaela was born. For Temesgen I have a wooden riding giraffe that I bought at a garage sale for fifty cents. (It has become one of Mikaela’s favorite pets.)


I also bought him a blue knit hat, three pairs of socks and mittens. I have tried to convince Michael that Temesgen can wear Mikaela’s hand me downs for the first few years and it won’t make a difference. He won’t care if he is a girly man in pink in the beginning. Michael of course, makes a horrified face as though this will instantly zap the poor boy’s manhood and scar him for life. Okay, so I won’t bring out the dresses but really the purple flower power playsuit could be just fine! He will look like a flower child of the sixties. If my family would have gone along with the gender neutral clothing I wanted for Mikaela when she was born instead of the girly cutie clothes they bought, this wouldn’t be a problem. I am sure he will like the red glitter high tops that were Mikaela’s favorites. What does a baby really need? He will sleep with us so we know we don’t need to go the crib route that we tried for Mikaela in the beginning- the most expensive toy box ever. So, he needs diapers, bottles and love. Am I forgetting anything else? Bottles. There is a terrifying thought. `I breastfed Mikaela far longer than I thought possible! I can’t imagine getting up in the middle of the night and mixing formula (yuk) instead of rolling over and lifting my shirt. Oh, that’s where the damn husband comes in!! He got off easy with Mikaela and never even woke up when she did. This time things will be different. “Wake up, Michael, stop snoring. Your son would like a bottle!”