First Halloween party.

Today SS's school celebrated Halloween, and she was more than ready to party. As luck would have it I had an appointment that could not be rescheduled, so P dropped off SS at school by himself for the first time. I hightailed it home to change and grab my camera, and was able to make it on time. P took a break a joined us for a while, a bonus of him working nearby. SS wore the pirate costume from last year. This year's costume is white and no way would we risk her staining it before the big day. We know we are biased but she was the cutest pirate there.

SS did not stay for lunch and we left at 11:10 a.m. Then I quickly changed SS into this year's costume because P wanted to show her off at work. SS was more than happy to oblige. When we got home SS had a major meltdown because I would not allow her to eat her candy before she ate lunch. The child was running on empty, did not have breakfast, did not even drink milk this morning. She was so excited about her party that she just wanted out the door. I had to put my foot down and the tears flowed freely. After she exhausted herself with her tantrum SS asked me to place her in her crib. She was out by the time P made it home for lunch and it is still snoozing as I post. All that excitement wore out our little dynamo.

Teacher M was also a pirate.

Fishing for treats.

Pirate to pirate.

Balloon popping.

SS managed to eat the whole doughnut.

SS's class, Ms. M on left and Ms. L on right.

SS took a bat swing at a Tinkerbell piñata. We are so proud of her.

Notice that SS is on her way back as the kids are going towards the candy. I was not happy to see that the teachers are pretty much allowing SS to do as she pleases. They allow her to cut in line and participate out of turn. They are very good at telling the other kids to wait their turn and stand in line, and that is to kids younger than SS. We are going to have to talk to the director about this.

What the heck, SS decided to join the mayhem anyway.

We had a much happier morning.

We took a different approach this morning with SS. P went to work at 4:00 a.m. and it was up to me to wake up the beast. P, I love you, but I am no fool, you went to work early to escape the morning wrath that is SS. I am OK with this because when SS hits puberty I will be in an assisted living facility, not remembering a thing and you will be the one dealing with her. Did I mention how much I love you? MWAH!

SS took a fun bath last night, and although P and I are @nal about bathing/showering before facing our day we let it go. SS had a bath last night, no need to bathe her again. I had to wake her up and like the spineless coward that I am offered her a few minutes of Nick Jr. for her pain and suffering. The first thing out of SS's mouth was "Where's Baba?" I got her ready for school while she watched cartoons. No explanations/apologies here, it worked and we are going to do what it takes to get SS out the door without drama and tears.

Once SS had her BL backpack ready on her back she looked at me, pointed at the door and with the cutest smirk ever said "Let's rock and roll." No way was I ready for that and did not have my camera ready. SS graciously recreated her funny side for me outside. I quickly e-mailed the video to P. Since we had to drive by P's work to get to school, I called P and he came out to give his scholastic star a big hug and a kiss. Teacher S noticed that SS was in a better mood this morning. I got a huge hug and a kiss and was out of there in a few minutes.

I went to run some errands because I am a coward and did not want to come back to an empty house. I think this is the first time since July 2008 that I went to Costco alone. Really pathetic but that is my reality. I made it home with just enough time to put away the perishable items then turn around and go get SS. She recognized her Baba's work place and wanted to to stop by for a kiss. I told SS that Baba would be home in a few minutes for lunch and she could see him and kiss him then. SS shed a few tears but gave in. My phone buzzed as I was waiting at a traffic light and it was P texting to find out if I was dropping by on our way home. I felt embarrassed when I texted him that I did not want to come across a clingy by dropping by. Hope I did not hurt his feelings.

SS had a good half day at school and according to Teacher M she once again used a regular cup to drink. I have no idea how she is doing that because when we try a regular cup with just water at home, it ends up in a spill. Now if they can get SS to a potty we are golden.`

Godzilla is still wreaking havoc.

SS's love of trains is still growing strong and she is spending a lot of time playing with her metropolis. I realized this afternoon that it has a a fire truck, fire station and fireman. Duh, that explains the addition of firefighter to her super hero name. We are glad she likes it so much, makes it worth giving up the dining table. At times SS plays a bit too rough with her train table and it results on the tracks coming off. Along with everything else falling off. P is now calling SS Godzilla, although she is more of a miniature version, but still wreaking the same amount of havoc.

When we picked up SS at school yesterday she did not notice that I was wearing different glasses. I had been using a lot of different cheap reading glasses, so it makes sense that it was not a big deal. SS was also so excited running to her Baba that she did not notice me, let alone my glasses. When I came into her room after her nap, although she was not fully awake, she noticed my glasses right away. She gave me a not so nice look and said "Baba's glasses." Uh, no sweetie these are mine. SS was skeptical until I moved my hair back and pointed to the blue temples (our styles are similar, but P's are black). I asked SS if she liked them, a very dumb move on my part, given the less than pleased look she was giving me. SS answered "I like Baba's glasses." Never ask a child a question unless you are prepared for brutal honesty.

The progressive bifocal choice was a good one, the only problem is when I am in bed reading then look up at the TV. Getting use to wear glasses all the time is proving to be very difficult. I am not used to wearing anything full time (other than clothes). I hardly ever wear jewelery, it took a while before I got used to my wedding ring. While I now feel naked leaving the house without it, once home it is the first thing I remove along with my watch. It used to drive P nuts when I would leave for work without my engagement ring. I right now have two very good prescription glasses MIA, because I took them off G0d knows where. P listened to my reasoning then kindly told me that it sucks to be me. No sympathy whatsoever. Gee, I said I wear my wedding ring whenever I'm in public, and it is not like anyone would care. P is just a different animal, he never takes off his wedding ring or his watch, and has been wearing glasses full time for a long time. Contacts are not an option because I can't imagine sticking anything in my eyes daily. I do not like anything near my eyes, let alone in them. Yeah, it sucks to be me.

Look at the destruction Mini Godzilla has caused.

Nice shoe rack SS, it was worth the price.

P got the metropolis back in shape, but I am sure Godzilla will destroy it before he is back home this afternoon.

From SS's point and shoot camera (old 6 megapixel):

The things that catch the eye of a 3 year old (the plastic between the pantry doors).

Dog must be hand washed and air dried. I thought SS was going to throw a fit, but since she was in shutterbug mode we avoided a crisis. BTW, this is Dog #2 (there are 3).

First day of preschool, SS is a big girl now.

SS woke up in a good mood and crossed off her last sleep on the calendar, which meant that today was the big day. I had done all the countdowns with SS, so I allowed a very sleepy P to do the real important one, the last one. Funny that P was so tired because by 6:00 a.m. he's usually been at work for quite a while. My insomnia got the best of me, so I wasted time watching the Chilean miners return to the surface. Go Chile!

SS was in a good mood until P tried to rinse her off. She had a meltdown demanding that I do it. OK, whatever gets her to stop screaming at such an early hour. By the time she was dressed and ready to go, SS was alternating between crabby and crying. SS refused to smile for the camera and as we were about to leave she announced that she did not want to go to preschool. UGH. I sat her on my lap and we went over how much fun she would have at preschool. We also talked to SS about how Mama and Baba would be there to drop her off and to pick her up, and that we would wait home for her. Won't lie, we were concerned about a major meltdown, but once she arrived at MU she perked up, and went off to play. We had to remind her to give us a hug and a kiss. I know it sounds needy, but we did not want her to meltdown later when she remembered she did not get a kiss.

P and I spent about an hour home, then did something productive. We picked up my new glasses. The good news is that the progressive bifocals are not bothering me as much as I thought they would. The bad news is that I must need them for the transition to be this smooth. Have I mentioned that aging sucks? We then dropped paperwork by our eye doctor and family practitioner's office. Next stop was the County courthouse to begin the likely to be stressful process to readopt SS. Then with trepidation we drove to SS's school.

SS ran straight to her Baba and did not notice I was standing next to him. It seems that everything went well, SS was just perfect. No crying, no tantrums, no concerns. She had yogurt and strawberries for snack and ate it all. Not a surprise there. Lunch consisted of spaghetti and bread. SS ate the bread but only picked at the pasta. SS ate a lot yesterday, so we are not worried. According to to Teacher W, SS drank from a regular cup and did well. Really? Then why does she spill everything when we try? As Teacher M was helping SS get her things together, SS jumped up and down and said to us, "YOU CAME BACK!" We will never abandon you SS. OK, we are kind of flaky and have a senior moment here and there, but we will always come back for you. That is what Mamas and Babas do.

We realize that this is SS's honeymoon period and pretty soon they will see her hell raising side. Maybe this is good, they will like her by then, and will not expel her when her 'feisty" side comes out.

SS was scaring me here, she had shed quite a few tears and seemed scared.

SS would not crack a smile for the obligatory first day of school picture. She obviously did not get the memo explaining the importance of faking sheer delight to feed her parents' egos.

We do not negotiate with terrorists, SS does not negotiate with the paparazzi.

This is the best we got from SS. A train happened to stop across the street and she was all excited.

P insisted on a celebratory round of nuggets and fries. We did not bother with milk or apple slices, that would dampen the celebration aspect. SS is proudly showing her first school project.

P changed SS into her BL PJs and tucked her in before heading to work. SS was tuckered out by 12:45 p.m.



At least we have proof that she was not a sour puss upon wakening.

Happy Birthday Mami.

******Long, boring, but necessary for SS and JJ*********

I always focus on Mami's birthday and have done a great job of ignoring the anniversary of her death. That is no easy task since I was the one who found her dead, was in the house with my 15 year old cousin, not something one ever gets over. I think it was September and if I really try (or ask Abu) I could come up with the exact date. Even though I am glutton for punishment I instead look forward to her birthday, and the many memories from our time together. I have not posted on her birthday before, because Mami is integral to my desire to have SS. I miss her everyday and lost count how often I shed angry tears when she passed away, and at 16 (or was it 15?) I found myself without parents.

Mami was born in Yauco, Puerto Rico, the youngest of a bunch, and lost both her parents before her second birthday. She (and her siblings) was raised by her older sister, who was barely 12 years old at the time. Her Sister J quickly started her own family, and Mami in turn took care of her nieces and nephews. That would make them my mother's first cousins and my second cousins. But because of the huge age difference they were all my aunts and uncles. Hispanic families are very loose with relatives titles. Mami and her nieces and nephews moved to Ponce when she was about 30. Uncle J had joined the SDA church, and while I never understood why, this led to their move.

Mami met Papi when she helped take care of his dying wife. Papi had two children from that marriage, a son (F), and a daughter (V). Funny, I do not know the woman's name, it just did not come up. Mami and Papi married when Mami was 35, and this led to more interesting familial ties. My mother (and her older sister) are younger than Papi's grandchildren. Even before I was aware of the nature of their relationship, I could always feel a lot of jealousy from V's daughters and the fact that their aunt (Abu) was younger.

Mami raised F's sons, Tio F(ito) and Tio T. Of course they were not my uncles but my first cousins. Their mother left their father, and their father just showed up one day and dropped the kids off with Mami. I do not have many memories of Tio F(ito), but Tio T was very close to us and was the cool uncle every child loves to have.

Mami gave birth to my Aunt A at 42, and to Abu at 44. But the real trial for Mami did not arrive until I entered this world. Mami was almost seventy, and Papi was 12 years her elder when I came home from the hospital, and the real fun began. She was at a point in life when she had raised so many children, even though she only gave birth to two. The sensible outcome would have been for her and Papi to enjoy their grandchildren but not as primary caretakers. Instead, the magic that is me gate crashed their very much deserved retirement. I cannot imagine becoming a parent at that age, but Mami and Papi never once complained and from all accounts thought of me as a blessing.

I frequently state that if there is good in me it is because of Mami and Papi. If I have made any right choices as a parent it is because of them as well. 67 and 79 when I was born is not the same as now days. Mami and Papi had a hard life, doing manual labor, and did not have adequate health care (nothing preventative until Abu became a nurse). They were old, their bodies in poor condition, but they did not think twice before they dove into diaper changing, midnight feedings, and dealing with an infant 24/7.

Mami was quite the study in contradictions. Physically frail, barely 4' 10" (and I'm being generous), but one of my brothers came up with the nickname Little War Tank (Tanquecito de Guerra). Mami was a formidable force and she did not need her size to make her presence known. When my brothers towered over her at 6', Mami simply asked them to bend down when she needed to pull their ears for whatever they did. Ear pulling was usually about their foul language. They dutifully bent down and Mami did not skimp on the pulling. More serious infractions would get them a punch on the arm. Mami had small hands, but her knuckles were bony and she knew how to use them to inflict pain. Tiny and could pack a punch, just like SS.

She was definitely the disciplinarian home and not even her baby, spoiled rotten me was exempt from her discipline. Her method of torture for me was to ask me to pick the longest leave from the nearest mango tree in our yard. She would then slowly and carefully remove the leaf, and the spine made for a painful switch when applied swiftly to the back of my knees. I am sure I deserved that far many more times than it actually occurred. She loved me with all she was, but she was realistic about my faults and would make me recognize my shortcomings.

But the biggest part about Mami, the reason why she was the first step in my journey to SS, was her heart. Mami was completely devoted to me and taught me that boyfriends and husbands come and go, but your children, no matter how they come to you, they are yours forever. This was a point of contention between her and Abu and it is why I remained in her home until the day she died.

It wasn't until years after her death, when relatives felt comfortable talking to me about such touchy subjects that I learned just how deeply her love (and Papi's) for me ran. I always thought that I lived with them by choice. Abu met her now husband when I was only a year old and they married seven years later. Abu worked full time and quite frankly that did not bother me one bit, although it was not the norm then. As far as everyone around me was concerned I had not one, but two stay at home parents. The Abus initially lived across the fence from my home. We could walk between the yards by a gate on our shared fence. Abu prepared a room for me, but I had no interest whatsoever. Again, my recollection was that I chose to remain with my parents. When the Abus moved quite a distance away, Abu created the room she always wanted in their new home. She also made it clear that I was moving with her, but it did not happen. There was no way they were letting me go, and whatever disagreements resulted (and relatives tell me there were many), they managed to successfully insulate me. That or I am simply the dumbest person ever.

Mami never once voiced her very valid concerns to me. I was blissfully ignorant until I was 13, when Abuelo placed me in a situation that could have landed me in the ER. While a terrible lapse in judgment (more on Abuela's part) I did not then, and do not now think it was intentional. It was just a dumb oversight by two rather selfish adults. By that time Mami's health had begun to decline (why filter off), and when she let out her fury on her daughter I realized her true feelings for her son in law. Mami went to her grave with the belief that it was an intentional act, and she did not take lightly to those that hurt or attempted to hurt me. I do not think I ever saw her angry until that day. That is because Mami is the only person I have ever met who truly practiced what she preached. She lived by the golden rule, do unto others... The incident was never mentioned again, and I did not bother to delve into her thoughts.

Mami had a stroke when I was 15 and she never really fully recovered. I recall going to the hospital as soon as I was out of school, and that not sleeping in the same house with her was awful. It was more like not sleeping in the same house. I had visited the Abu's home a handful of times, and although it was supposed to be my room, it just wasn't home.

Shortly after Mami's discharge she seemed to be giving up. She talked about going to be with Papi and her parents. Those statements scared the hell out of me and I'm sure they had the same effect on Abu. One day Abu was trying to coax Mami into eating without success. Abu is a devoted daughter, no question about that, she took care of her parents very well. She told Mami that if she wanted to let go, she could, but to think about me. Abu told her that I was only 15 and that she was the only mother I knew, and that I was not ready to function on my own. Mami got a second wind but lasted only one year after that conversation. It wasn't a good year, it was hell to watch her waste away. For someone who gave so much of herself to others, G0d was not kind to Mami. I have cried many tears over how I might have been a factor in her hanging on for as long as she could. Mami did not deserve to suffer so much just because I was a brat.

As the end neared, Mami became very anxious about having me near her. Abu would do the night shift because I was to attend school, that was non negotiable. Abu wanted to make sure I rested and carried on as normally as possible. Yeah, because that is so easy when you are 15 and your mother is dying. Against Abu's wishes I spent many nights laying next to Mami reassuring her that her baby was OK. Abu was not being cruel, she knew that Mami probably did not even recognize me at that point. But Mami did not abandon me when I was inconveniently born, and I sure as hell was not going to abandon her.

This is why I have never posted on her b-day before, this has no direction and I wanted to do so much better for the person who did everything for me. And she did so much.

Although she was a strict SDA, she had quite a liberal streak. Mami taught me to play briscas (Spanish cards) before I started school. Card games of any kind were not permitted in the SDA world. Not only did she break that rule, but included gambling in our hush hush games. We would play for dry beans. Titi C (Mami's niece) lived next door, was quite nosy and judgmental (also SDA), so Mami made sure our windows were closed when we engaged in our illicit briscas games. I can't wait to teach SS how to play, although I am very rusty. We had a blast and would play late into the night.

When I got myself in hot water at church by challenging the validity of Jonah actually fitting while kneeling, let alone surviving inside a whale, she refused to punish me. Mami was an elder in the church, a role model and it did not go over well when her 4 year old bratty daughter questioned the scriptures. However, she stated that she found my question (what type of whale) valid, and not disrespectful. The pastor never got the apology he demanded. I learned a lot that day about the strength of Mami's convictions.

Another church incident happened over stupid sandals. Abu took care of my wardrobe, it was summer and she wanted me to wear the new pretty sandals she chose to the church program. A decision was made that it would be blasphemous for me to be up at the pulpit with sandals. I was sent to sit with Mami, banned from the program. Mami went toe to toe with the pastor arguing the absurdity of the decision. Her first point off the gate, every depiction of Jesus and the disciples had them wearing sandals! Mami also gave the pastor a good tongue lashing over punishing a child (I was 6-7) from participating in a religious program she rehearsed a long time for. They reached a compromise, I could not sit at the pulpit during the entire program, to avoid the other church members to be stricken by lighting because of my sandals. I simply appeared and disappeared as needed. That is what Mami did, she always came out swinging for me. Maybe that long ago incident led me into my evil ways.

It is no accident that Mami was (unofficially) adopted and an adoptive mother (again unofficially), and that I am a proud adoptive mother. It was that knowledge that resulted in my decision to have SS. Mami was the first person to know when I was barely 7. I watched a PBS special on China and was mesmerized by the beautiful girls. I am sure there were boys, but all I could focus on was the girls. after I was done, I walked to Mami to make my big announcement. I told Mami I was going to have a Chinese daughter. Mami told me that if I married a Chinese man, that we would have a half Chinese daughter. But she reminded me the other half would be Puerto Rican, just like me. That would not work because first, I did not want to get married, and two I wanted a Chinese daughter, fully Chinese. Because of her religious beliefs (I'm sure she had not kissed Papi until they were married) and cultural upbringing , saying that I wanted a child but not a husband would have resulted in a lecture about morals. Not with Mami.

Instead, Mami challenged me, asked me how I planned to have a fully Chinese child, and a daughter no less, without a spouse. She told me to get back to her when I figured it out. I am sure at that moment she wondered how dumb I actually was. It took me a while, but everything I heard about my family, and everything I had experienced gave me the answer I needed. I returned to Mami and noted how she was not raised by her birth mother, how she raised many children she did not give birth to, myself included. I told Mami I would do the same, I would adopt a daughter from China. This is the part where if I was in her shoes I would be laughing by butt off at my child (I am a bad parent that way). Thankfully Mami knew better than to kill my spirit, and while not knowing a darn thing about China she congratulated me for working through that challenge. Mami smiled, hugged me and told me I would have a beautiful Chinese daughter and that I would be a great mother. Well, one out of two is not bad.

Mami kept my secret, just as I asked of her. I knew that if Abu heard about my child without a husband plan all hell would break loose in a fit of self righteousness. Turns out that out of everything she did for me, SS is the greatest gift Mami gave me. Of course there was no such thing as International Adoption when I was 7. Everyone who knew me knew that I always wanted to adopt, no secret there. But I never completely disclosed my plan, my true intentions. Then P came around and threw a monkey wrench on my no husband plan. He was the second person to know about my desire, sadly way after he should have known. It could have ended ugly, but thankfully for me, we both had the same desire. Mami, thank you for loving me, for caring for me, for taking on the church for me. More than anything, thank you for giving me the wings for my 37 year journey to SS. Happy birthday Mami, I love you.

Monkey King Buzz Lightyear Firefighter Hero.

SS is getting more creative with her super hero fixation. This afternoon she announced that she is Monkey King Buzz Lightyear Firefighter Hero. That is quite a mouthful for not even 30 pounds of love. SS's interest in the Monkey King is fairly new and welcomed. MK is the main character in a classic Chinese novel, and her attraction to this character occurred without our prompting. We found this description of MK, "is an indeed rebellious extraordinary being, born out of a rock, fertilized by the grace of Heaven. Being extremely smart and capable, he learned all the magic tricks and gongfu from a master Taoist,being able to transform himself into seventy-two different images such as a tree, a bird, a beast of prey or a bug as small as a mosquito so as to sneak into an enemy's belly to fight him inside or out. Using clouds as a vehicle he can travel 180,000 miles a single somersault and a huge iron bar that supposedly serves as ballast of the seas and can expand or shrink at its owner's command." I think that is one neat super hero to pick, and the rebellious extraordinary being is just totally SS. The BL part is a no brainer, however, we did not know she is now into firefighters. Too bad that I can't sew, because that combination super hero SS made up would make a heck of a Halloween costume.

SS slept through the night and at exactly 615 a.m. (12 hours later) she called out for me. She then napped for a few hours starting just before noon. Once again I was the designated cushion for her nap. Glad to know I can be of some use around here. We are really hopeful that school will help with regulating SS's sleep hours. Or at least that she will sleep through the night.

I have not taken a picture of my child in two days, that has to be a record. Truth be told, SS has been following us around with her phone in full paparazzo mode. watching her morph into us is not pleasant. Her requests are funny, such as "Say cheese Mama/Baba," or "Over here sweetie, look here." Message received, it must be annoying to have a camera pointed at you so often. Sorry SS, it's just that you are so darn photogenic, but you deserve a break.

SS has made progress with leaving my breasts alone when we are in public. At home is different, but I take what I can get. A few days ago we were talking and she asked about my n*pples, as she had done about a dozen times that day. A bit tired of the question I wearily told her that they were in the same place they have been since we met. I added that it is also the same place where hers are located. SS quickly corrected me "I have no n*pples, I have holes Mama." SS was topless and pointed to the area with mild annoyance. She is right and I should have known better. We had a good laugh about it. No wonder she is obsessed with those things, hers have yet to arrive. P sometimes jokes that he misses the days when SS was non mobile and non verbal. This usually happens when she is driving us insane with her extreme energy and loudness. But these moments, when she cracks us up with just being 3 are a riot.

While we have not taken pictures, we could not resist a video of SS rocking to Magic. It is her favorite song now, and it also reminds us of one of the first nicknames P gave SS when we met, Baby Magic. We are responsible for the the mismatched attire and lack of hair brushing. It's a lazy weekend, and SS picked her clothes (not a future haute couture phenom) and we did not force the rat nest in her hair issue. Anyone who has met us knows we left our spines in China.

She's an 80's baby.

We have just been hanging out today, and as usual, SS has provided comic relief throughout the day. I was tickling her in bed this morning and gave her a break to allow her to catch her breath. SS had a serious look on her face and I could tell her wheels were turning. She took a deep breath and carefully enunciated "Mama, please leave my tummy alone." SS managed to pronounce each word perfectly (she can butcher words as well as her Mama), and that was obviously what she was mulling in her head. Then just as I was about to feel really guilty she stuck out her tummy at me, with a mischievous grin. That got her another round of tickles.

Later in the day SS came downstairs and noticed P was gone. She walked up to me with an annoyed look on her face and stated, "Mama, where is Baba now?" As if the man disappears on a regular basis to gallivant around town. We will always be sympathetic to SS's partners, she can be demanding and bossy. No idea where she got that from.

P and I did the couch potato thing and were watching VH1's Greatest One Hit Wonders of the 80's. SS was in music heaven and I was surprised by how many of those songs are familiar to our child. Like JJ, SS's music taste is very eclectic, but man the 80's are her decade. She was shaking her booty, playing the air guitar a la Jimmy Hendrix and singing along. It was a really funny thing to witness. But like with everything SS, there is that moment when we really question our parenting. Today's how did we ever pass a home study moment came when SS began to sing along to "relax, don't do it..." and emphasized the word c*me. All that music induced activity wore SS out, she fell asleep on top of me at around 6:15 p.m. I won't be sleeping tonight because I seriously doubt she will sleep through the night. But is worth it, because P is right, watching and feeling SS fall asleep on us is the greatest feeling in the world. We better hang on to that feeling because we will need those memories when SS hits puberty. She is such a handful now, we shudder when we think what's coming our way.

Quick resolution.

Wish all stumbling blocks were this easy to resolve. We are not going to deal with PH, they can basically go fornicate themselves. I called SS's doctor's office this morning and received confirmation that she is indeed up to date with her shots. Dr. J (Dr. S's husband) went over her records and was very upset at the treatment we received yesterday, and blatantly stated that they were only doing it because SS is adopted. Dr. J stated that he would support whatever decision we made, but that he would not subject his child to unnecessary vaccinations just because she is adopted. His reaction surprised me a little, because he (like his wife) is the easy breezy type. P reminded me that he is also an adoptive parent, and then his indignation made perfect sense.

Then I had to call MU and talk to Director D, because they will have to deal with community licensing and PH. The problem is that yesterday's fiasco was not the only thing keeping me from sleeping. As much as I hated divulging certain aspects of SS's past, I knew there was more that we would have to disclose once we selected a school. If I fell I was throwing my second born under the bus then, this was going to hurt even more. It is also part of the reason I spent hours watching her sleep last night. But SS is going to spend a significant amount of time at school, and looking after her is no longer the job of three. For SS to receive the best possible care I had to suck it up and have that talk.

Thankfully it looks like we made the right choice with MU. The PH debacle was not a problem, and DD was very understanding of our decision not to subject SS to unnecessary immunizations. But they do have to provide records to PH, and we will simply sign a statement that we are choosing not to immunize our child. That part takes care of the bureaucratic maggots. But SS's immunization records will be in her file to reflect that she is indeed up to date. DD was puzzled at PH's stance since she knows many children in the community who have been adopted internationally, and all children attending school must go through PH. She wondered why are they so obtuse? Moreover, what happens to our children born outside the U.S.? SIGH

We discussed attachment and the need to strictly follow the guidelines needed to keep SS from "parent shopping," and from forming an unhealthy attachment to a stranger. Although SS will be their second Chinese child, they have a lot of experience with foster care children. They are well aware of post-institutionalized (foster care is akin to an institution) behaviors and to avoid falling for manipulative behavior. Ironic how strangers are more supportive and understanding than family. That one will never cease to blow us away. DD was curious as to our background because she found us far more objective than most parents. First, thank Mami, she loved me but was realistic about her child. Second, that job I hated so much has been a tremendous help. I owe a debt of gratitude to so many children who without knowing, helped me understand what I was up against when we met SS. But more important is my partner in crime, my equally realistic husband, who loves JJ and SS beyond reason, but has never put on rose colored glasses. Without him I would be an even bigger mess. Plus this is not our first foray into parenthood, something the teachers and DD did not know. DD related some of the over the top reactions from parents when they are told the simple truths we shared about our daughter. Two of the subjects were very difficult for me and it took a while to spit them out. Those are issues only P, JJ and I knew and we decided would remain just home for now. Things that were part of my daily work, but SS is not my client, she is my child. Totally different ballgame, no matter how people perceive our approach as clinical.

Lately SS has been saying "I need that (fill in the blank)." Before she said I need my whatever. It reminds us of a horrible movie with Brad Pitt, where he attempted the worst Irish accent in the history of cinematography, and the line "I need that money Tom." We find ourselves repeating that dumb ass line, because it is darn funny when SS phrases her requests that way. That is, until she says "I need that drink." Our daughter coming across as the littlest alcoholic is not funny. She is usually more precise and says leche, jugo or agua. Not sure how well that new phrase is going to go over at school.

SS's school countdown. Every morning she happily picks up the Sharpie and (with help) crosses off the previous day. We then count how many more sleeps until her big day.

The road to preschool is paved with bureaucratic tape.

This afternoon the road to preschool led us to wasting an hour and a half at the Public Health Department. There is nothing we can do to avoid a return visit and spike of blood pressure; it's just the way this county works. Abuela spent her entire nursing career working for PH in Puerto Rico, and that led to my many hours visiting remote clinics with her. That experience, combined with my work at a county psych hospital and social services has made me well versed on how frustrating red tape can be. In addition, let's not forget the paperwork involved in International adoption. This is all fine with us. But the one thing I recall about Abuela is how she treated her patients. I admired her compassion and devotion to them. It is something I kept in mind when the stress of trying to do the impossible crept up on me. What upset us today is that none of that actual bureaucratic nonsense was the cause of our vexation. It was the ignorance by the two nincompoops behind the desk.

We brought SS's immunization records and they did not bother to LOOK before dismissing the document because "it's written in some language." Well no sh*t Sherlock, our daughter was born in China and spent her first 16 months there. But if your itty bitty brain can follow, everything is translated to English. And right next to that some language! That was not good enough for them, because it "it is from over there." China, we are sure your combined IQ of 100 and articulation of a pre-K child is good enough to say C-h-i-n-a.

As much as I wanted to beat the ignorance out of them, I am the designated bureaucratic sufferer here. It is what I know, and although I have a legendary mouth (just look at what I write hours later), I somehow manage to keep my cool and just navigate those muddy waters. One of them picked up SS's records like it was printed on toxic paper and stated that they needed to "decipher" what it was. I know they are only clerks, but I thought they would at least know how to read. The deciphering took over 45 minutes, and anyone with an active toddler knows that never ends well.

The kicker was when while saying they could not decipher English, they also announced that it did not matter, because SS would have to get all her shots redone, because "nothing done over there counts." Now, while I have the legendary mouth, I always advise people to take their chances about anger with me, because I am a pussycat compared to P. That condescending, ignorant statement had him red and ready to protect his child. I was rolling my eyes at Dumb and Dumber, because there is no way some bureaucratic maggot (shout out to BP) with a GED is going to have a say on my daughter's health care. I did not even bother asking them if they had an idea about SS's titers levels, before they rendered their 4th grade diagnosis.

P simply stormed out with SS and I am glad he made that wise choice. We (well just me now) do have to deal with them again. By the time I made it to the van P was on a roll about what they had coming if they thought he was going to have his daughter repeat anything. I do love it when he gets all angry over his kids and laces his rants with colorful language (no excuses here, I'm sick and he is sexy). But while we both know that nothing will be done to SS, the real issue is why this incident even occurred, and the annoyance that it would not be the last time. It is the same reason why SS was denied a social security number in this county because"for all we know your adoption could be fraudulent". Funny, the SS office in Sacramento, with the same rules, accepted the documents and we were done in less than a hour. Not a single word about our questionable documents and nefarious intentions.

Ignorance.

Yup that's it, just plain ignorance. Instead of immediately engaging in xenophobic mode, how about asking those two dumb individuals with the obviously Asian (and impossibly beautiful) daughter about the other language on the document? Here is an even wilder thought, how about plain asking them what they were reading? After all these two idiots managed to compile a mountain of paperwork, jumped through INS hoops, have been criminally cleared up the wazoo, and traveled to China. Maybe, just maybe they know something. Then there is the really difficult one, calling the child's doctor's office. That same number that the mother offered to D&D. Nah, way too freaking easy.

I am writing this while sitting across from a sleeping SS, that innocent little thing in her safe crib. Well, safe if he have not missed a recall notice. Just listening to her breathing soothes me, and I need soothing before tomorrow morning. There are so many things we worry about, so much we want to protect her from, just like any parent. However, ignorance is going to be a constant thorn on her side. As soon as we are done with this hurdle we need to work on the re-adoption. SS has little league and real school in her future, and we can't have P going on a homicidal rage when someone questions SS's "foreign" birth certificate. We have three notarized copies with the English translation. But after all, they were created and notarized "over there," and obviously do not count. Things like this go right over SS's head now, but it won't be long before she feels the full impact of ignorant minds. On the positive side, she has quite a mouth and temper to match. She is going to be scarier than us.

Almost forgot to mention SS's snarky moment as we left the house. I told P I would drive, just because I enjoy playing with the GPS. As soon as SS saw him grab his keys (to get her in her carseat), she snarked "you are not driving." Without missing a beat P retorted "neither are you." You show her who's boss P!

2010: The year Halloween died.

The post title is P's current refrain. SS has decided that two years after arriving home, two years after becoming well versed in everything Halloween, this year is the perfect year to become hysterical at the mere sight of anything Halloween. SS still claims to love Halloween, that is, unless said items are found in a store. And in true SS style, her hysterics are just that, over the top theatrics that are getting on our last nerve. Forcing her into the situation is counterproductive, and if it was JJ his butt would have been left alone in a shopping cart a few aisles away from the offending items. But this is SS, the child who has some serious abandonment issues and the same child who is still asking if she is coming with us every time we leave the house or the van.

Now add a Halloween freak, obsessed, devoted P, and SS's new found fear is a recipe for disaster. P just does not get why she is acting this way, when she was so much fun with her cute little skulls and bones obsession that filled him with pride. We are not talking fear over really scary things, I had to rip her away from me to place her behind a BL cutout. SS would not even look, let alone allow us to try on the costume she so badly wanted. I do not think that we will bother visiting the pumpkin patch this year. Why spend $30 (that is just admittance, train rides and other goodies are separate) to watch SS scream her head off? We can do that at home for free just by saying no to her. :)

I also need to remind P to tread lightly with this issue, no matter how important this season is to him. Children with SS's early life experiences are sometimes too darn amazing at becoming numb over things that would scare others. For all we know her reactions now are more on the normal side. SS is no longer playing tough, she is no longer on that deer caught between headlights haze, she knows it is no longer up to her to protect herself. SS now knows that Mama, Baba and JJ keep her safe. Maybe it is not such a bad thing that she is showing fear, but I would be lying if I say that I too miss our fearless daughter. SS, whatever you do, do not stop diving into pools, that will certainly kill your father. Then there is the possibility (a safe bet) that I have no idea what I'm talking about. Frustrated does not begin to cover the mood here.

But the fear is not only about Halloween or scary things, it is also about us leaving her, and new this week a total fear of the potty. We thought we had made progress during the visits to MU and SJ, because of SS's excitement for those miniature potties. All we have to do is mention her potty and she becomes agitated and the waterworks begin. And of course this is all happening at a time where she is on the cusp of becoming a big girl, SS is going to school a week from today. She is beyond excited at the prospect, but it still has to be scary. I have no recollection of my first day of school. It could be because it was almost a hundred years ago, but it's most likely a function of knowing that Mami and Papi were home waiting for me, AND would come to pick me up at the end of the day. My parents had almost six years to make me feel that secure, I was with them from the moment I came home from the hospital. I had two devoted caretakers who (very unusual for Hispanic families) did not play pass the baby/kid around with me.*** No matter how much we have tried to do the same for SS she is just not there. So we are taking a lot of deep breaths and hoping we can help her through this phase (please let it be a phase). And because I am a master at beating myself up I do feel awful that I have not made it all better.

On a lighter subject, SS has developed a taste for Gouda cheese. Until two weeks ago she was like her Baba, an aged cheddar girl. Those two can eat cheddar cubes alone, just savoring the taste, no crackers needed. We buy a cheese platter that contains cheddar, Swiss, Havarti and Gouda. One morning SS requested cheese and I went for her favorite. That got a loud "No Mama, WHITE cheese." No problem, three of the cheeses are white. I reached for the Havarti and was quickly told "That's NOT the one!" So in this house white cheese now equals Gouda. She went through those slices in a few days. Oh well, at least she likes milk, cheese and yogurt. And yes, her last meals have contained peas and carrots.



SS can finally shut up about her BL school shirt. We think she liked it. The BL stickers came from the shoe store manager who was stunned when SS turned down the princesses stickers. The lady claimed she had never seen a girl into BL and gave her 10 extra stickers. We are not alone in feeding this tiny beast.

We lost count home many quarters we have fed into these things only to have SS freak out. So what did SS do after freaking out at the Halloween displays at two stores? She had her first ride in one of the same machines that barely a month ago frightened her.

*** I know this because Mami would always tell me that no matter how old she was, she would not allow others to carry or just handle me. I guess this explains my aversion to have people carrying my children.

Complete lack of cohesiveness.

Last week we received a package from Grandpa, expecting to find items we left at his house and a few macadamia nut treats. Much to SS's delight, it also included a Buzz Lightyear talking figure, a Toy Story Golden Book, and a Toy Story activity book with stickers. SS is in BL heaven and Grandpa managed to take care of two items on our let's enable our BL obsessed daughter list.

SS takes the BL figure to bed now and it always manages to land under me. Just as I am about to fall asleep, I manage to make it go off and it startles the daylights out of me. The Golden Book brought back good JJ memories. When he was SS's age, he had about 120 of those books. I need to get more for SS.

Thank you Grandpa!

This morning SS and I were doing the morning ritual of talking up school. She is still struggling with the notion that P and I will not remain with her. We are not that worried, because she did very well ignoring us at MU and SJ. SS then asked for a BL shirt for school and I said we would get her one. They only make them for boys (so discriminatory), but this won't be the first time we buy SS clothes from the boys department. SS assumed that we would go during P's lunch break and was very upset when that did not happen. She would not stop nagging about that darn shirt all afternoon. I know, that is what we get for feeding her obsessions. We will get her one tomorrow, but not for the first day of school. Her BL backpack and BL sippy cup should suffice.

This afternoon SS went back to the school subject and asked "Where's my preschool Mama?" I pondered if I should just say MU, but was doubtful she would remember. Before I could answer SS added "I visit 3 preschools." I was stunned, who the heck knew she was keeping track? I had to text P because she really caught me off guard with that one.

As we have posted, SS loves fruits and vegetables, easily meeting her daily recommended servings by lunch. Usually parents struggle with getting kids to eat vegetables and resort to hiding them within the food (like mixing them into meatloaf, etc.). We have the opposite problem, we use vegetables to cover meat. SS is a champ at eating rice and noodles, but is lazy about eating meat and poultry. JJ finds this odd, as if he is the textbook definition of normal.

For lunch, SS had carnitas (shredded pork) over chips. SS loves everything crunchy, so she uses chips instead of the soft tortillas used for carnitas. She insisted on peas and carrots and that led to a funky looking lunch. Each bite had a tortilla topped with carnitas, and covered with the peas and carrots. But it gets her to eat protein so we do not mind.

The peas and carrots reappeared during dinner. We had picadillo over white rice, but as you will see below, SS's was covered by veggies. The picadillo has peas, but just not enough for SS. We also have to wait for her to eat enough protein before feeding her rice. She still managed to have two portions of her beloved white rice.

Normal picadillo serving.

SS's serving.

SS would not let go of her phone because she was listening to music, and still wanted to take more pictures.

Crazy idea, but it gets her to eat without protesting.

More from SS's phone camera:

SS has taken over our refrigerator door with her "art." She placed all of them without our help.

This is what happens when your crazy parents photograph everything, no matter how inane for your blog. So proud of her.

A very short school visit.

This morning we visited WR Preschool, and like SJ is very nice, very new and very gray. The first thing we noticed is that you can't see inside or see any of the playing areas from the outside. We had scheduled a 9:00 a.m. appointment with the director a week ago. The director was not there and there was no one available at the front. We eventually just walked in and found out the director was not in, but one of the staff members took us to the 2 year old room to meet Teacher H and Teacher We Don't Remember Her Name.

First impression came from P who noted a hint of diversity, well, a huge amount given what we have seen so far. There were 2 African American girls, a biracial child, and possibly a Hispanic boy. Not sure about that last one, because we are going on his name, and we never got a look a him, just the back of his head. Since I have an Arabic name, my son has a Hebrew middle name, and my daughter has a Spanish first name (why we are SO @nal about the pronunciation, it's not English, it's not German), we know better than to make assumptions based on names.

Second impression was that those are the biggest group of two year olds we have ever seen. OMG, those kids must be on steroids, and their parents must be planning to eat them on Thanksgiving Day. Wowza! Third impression is that we were asked if SS was potty trained three times, before we were ever asked her name.

Teacher H asked SS to join the class for circle time, and although Director T made such a freaking big deal about how her school is accredited and thus superior to daycare, their routine was the same as the one at MU, with one big, and to us unnecessary difference. Since they are focused on academics (snark time) they have a card with each child's name and they go over the spelling with each child. The problem is that they had 23 children there (we counted 25 labeled cubbies) and that is a long, drawn out process for that many children to sit through. The children were antsy, getting up, whining and although the teachers did their best, maybe if they cut that name spelling part, they could move on to another task faster, keeping the little ones attention. Or they could do this when the children are in smaller groups, 4-5 to a table. But what do we know, we do have education degrees. SS was jazzed up about spelling her name, then was very disappointed that they did not have a card already made for her. We worried so much about the separation between SS and I, but what is really going to be difficult is the rude awakening that the center of our universe is not the center of the actual universe.

I do not think we had spent 20 minutes there when we noticed that SS was disengaged and then obviously withdrawn. SS was clearly uncomfortable, something that did not happen at MU or SJ. We think it was the class size, too many kids for her comfort. There was also a little boy who had a terrible time saying goodbye to his mother and that really stressed out SS. Then the coup de grâce occurred, SS said (yelled) that she was BL super hero and the maybe Hispanic little boy said he wanted to be BL too. P and I got ready to intervene because SS bore a hole through the kid with her death stare, then made a move to get up. She is going to have such a rude awakening on Halloween, when we expect her to see a lot of kids in BL costumes. The social adjustment is going to be brutal for SS.

We had decided to end the visit before that aforementioned incident. SS just looked miserable and we did not want to prolong her discomfort, especially when she did so well in the other two schools. Director T was not there when we left and never called, and that is fine with us. When I called to schedule the visit, she made some comments that really turned me off, and P felt the same way when I relayed them. For example, she had forgotten our conversation about why SS s not potty trained, and when that came up she said "Well, not even trying? What's up with that?" Definitely needs to work on her delivery. She was also upset when she wanted us to make a decision on enrollment right after the visit. Lady, this is not used car sells, this is about a child and her emotional well being. By the time we made it to the van SS was in need of Mama and Baba time, and made it clear she did not want to be in her carseat. Something clicked in her, and we gave her the time to regroup, gave plenty of hugs, kisses and kudos for doing well at the school.

P dropped by MU to pay the enrollment fee and pick up the enrollment packet. He was wearing his work shirt with the company's logo, and Director D immediately noticed and told him about talking to me, and that she was aware of our visit. It seems that for now it is best for SS to be a big fish in a little pond. We would definitely consider SJ for K if needed (as in SS not being accepted into the Mandarin program). We are planning to start SS on October 13, I need next week to get our late riser up at 6:30 a.m. I hope she does not maul me.

We are glad we took this picture before the visit. SS was in no mood for pictures on the way out. when she saw me uploading this picture to the blog she became upset and yelled "NO!NO!"

SS remembered her cell phone camera and had fun taking close up pictures. We actually like the blurry ones because it is so SS, no time to slow down, stand still and shoot. Love seeing things from her perspective.

Pretty good for one with no assistance.

This one is our favorite, it has such a ghost quality.

Kissing the diversisty dream goodbye.

Although the school district web page lists prices for preschool, all of their spots are reserved and taken by subsidized students. According to the enrollment person, they usually end up with one paying child in each classroom. All spots are filled for this school year and they have over a hundred children in their waiting lists. P and I are both terribly disappointed because exposure to diversity is important to us. SS is not the usual U.S. Chinese adoptee, who comes into a home with two Caucasian parents and sometimes Caucasian siblings. But we at least have other options, and that is something we would not have had in the area we used to live in (where JJ remains).

I remember my coworkers lamenting the lack of daycare spots available to paying parents. One of the juvenile court lawyers (County Counsel) was in the same boat as us. She is Caucasian (redhead, freckles and ivory skin), her husband is Peruvian (beautiful dark skin, eyes and hair), and they have the most beautiful little girl, a cafe au lait cutie. Like us, the parents wanted their daughter to be exposed to diversity, but all the daycare spots were taken. I recall her frustration at having to hire a nanny and she did not hide her displeasure at the situation (meaning that the girl could cuss/curse like a merchant marine). It wasn't about the money, it was about the opportunity her daughter was denied due to her parents' education and income.

The kicker is that although they were both educated they also had sizable student loans, law school is not cheap. And that is where P and I fall, we are not wealthy by any means. I worked some unbelievable overtime hours to save the funds to bring SS home. There was no baby shower, everything we had for SS was paid for by us. Abu is still upset because she wanted to buy SS's room furniture but we declined. We wanted to bring SS home with no strings attached, and right now can make difficult choices with a clean conscience. Even with only P working we are nowhere near qualifying for a subsidy. So SS gets stuck in the middle, and it is sometimes incredibly frustrating, especially when all you want to do is expose your child to diversity. P said that SS will be bringing diversity to her preschool. Not sure I am OK with that and it is yet another sign that this is not our permanent home. Two years and SS will be eligible for the K-5 Mandarin immersion program. I wonder if we will make it.

P and I were going over the application for the Mandarin program and had a good laugh. There is a disclaimer about how misrepresentations of the child's background will result in dismissal. WTF? What is there to lie about with a 5 year old? Since we are 12, P and I came up with several scenarios that would get SS in trouble. "At 3 1/2 years old, SS became the youngest person to climb Mount Everest. We kept it quiet due to concerns about Child Protective Services intervention. We were also concerned about hurting the feelings of the 15 year old who thinks he is hot stuff and holds the current record. The locals wanted to keep SS as head Sherpa, an honor never before offered to an outsider. We declined because we missed the little bugger and wanted to bring her home." The sad part is that there are parents out there who would do crazy stuff to give their kids an edge. I learned a valuable lesson a long time ago. JJ's IQ is off the charts, yet he is not the slightest bit interested in academics. After that experience I would rather have a hard worker than a bright child. We won't be embellishing SS's accomplishments on her school application.


Saturday morning SS grabbed her broom, made it a mike and got down to sing.