First corn on the cob.

SS had her first taste of corn on the cob yesterday during dinner. We are going to have that a lot this summer.

First bite

Her expression here reminds me of this.

How about putting the camera down and minding your food?

Excellent article on adoption from 0prah Magazine

Wow, that is one post title I never envisioned writing, since I have never read her magazine. I came across this article this morning, on an adoption forum. Since I just wrote this post, it was very reassuring to know that we are not alone.

The author so eloquently stated what I half a$ attempted to express:
"The thing I didn't understand at the time is that frequently what interracially adopted kids and their families long for is privacy: just to be treated like any other human being whose history the public doesn't assume it knows or assume it has the right to know."

I will go further, ONLY the child has the right to know her or his history. As I interpret the public not to include relatives and friends. Do we go around asking people about how they conceived their child? Can you imagine asking a birth parent?:

Did you have one too many and forgot to use contraception?
Was there a c0nd0m malfunction?
Did the wife/husband make you keep it?
Wait, I thought you were shooting blanks. Did you use a sperm donor?

Of course not, but it is OK to walk up to an adoptive parent and pry away.

Here's a link to the article: http//www.oprah.com/article/omagazine/200704_omag_adoption_8_things

Taken this morning. Ten months ago, we brought this angel home. While we were the ones supposed to care for her, and teach her about the world, our angel SS has taught us life lessons daily. Talk about a humbling experience. Yes, she badly needs a manicure. SS grows nails like her father grows hair, it's amazing. Getting her to calm down while clipping her nails is quite a feat. I have to be careful when I do it, or there will be blood, lots of it. Still, I like how her little hands are clasped.

This picture should be on Merri@m-Web$ter under angelic. It was taken by P, he does so much better than I with close ups.

This morning, we walked later than usual, and I almost skipped the under the bridge part. I am glad I didn't, because we got there just in time to witness this. SS was in geese heaven and talked, waved and cooed to her new friends.

Baba's Keys.

This morning, SS insistently asked for her Baba. I repeated the "Baba is at work" mantra, but she would not give up. It was early in the morning, and as I have stated before, SS has a pretty good internal clock when it comes to her Baba. We all have an off day. SS then said, "Mama, keys, Baba, keys." She pointed to the keys on the end table, that I had walked by a dozen times this morning. Huh? No sweetie, those are Mama's keys. Yeah, I'm dense, I did not even look. SS cried and wanted to see her Baba now. I looked, and dang it, the girl was right, those were indeed P's keys.

I don't blame SS for not believing me, as I had just shot my credibility. I had to take SS to every room and outside to convince her that Baba was not home. I think she was finally convinced when his car was not on the driveway. Don't you hate it when your kids are smarter and more observant than you?

To placate my little sleuth, I treated her to some outside time. I asked SS if she wanted her bathing suit on, and she squealed and did a happy dance. She was so cute chanting "pool, pool, pool." Her receptive language skills are really improving.

Poor P had to eat his lunch outside, because SS had no plans to enter the evil dungeon of darkness that is our home. I don't know how, but SS was in the pool (with very few breaks) from 11:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. I guess if I was 2-years old, with a just my size pool, I might do the same. I had to drag her inside kicking and screaming. P and I are water and sun whores, but this kid really kicks our butts. When I look at how dark she is, and how pale she was when we met, I am convinced that SS did not leave the SWI often, if ever. Maybe that is why she cherishes outside time. It really breaks our hearts to think of SS indoors for long periods of time. She is such a pati caliente.

After snack and nap, SS wanted to return outside, but I decided she had plenty of sun for one day. Our girl is a sun sponge, just soaks up those rays. On Friday, our local water park opens and we already have season passes. Also, the aquatic center is opening soon, and they have a pool and a kiddie playground with lots of water. We are getting a season pass there as well. Then there is the volcano fountain at the park, which she thoroughly enjoyed last year. Between those three places and the lake, SS should be able to get her sun and water fun fix.

Tonight is the two- hour season finale of Cr*m*nal M*nds. P is getting ice cream for us to eat in the dark. At some point we are going to have to stop watching shows like this with SS, but for now, it's fun.

P's keys (left), K's keys (right)

Littlest pool cleaner.

Yeah, Baba's home for lunch. We can now end this madness of you two having the wrong keys.

Now she wants to use a floatie. Sigh

My baby.

Three and a half hours later, snack time and a nap.

SS wanted her shoes on to go outside. I told her that she had enough sun and outside for today. SS obviously disagreed with my assessment and just put her sandals on. She called out to me, I turned around and saw this proud look on her face.

I said she put them on, not that she put them on the correct feet. I just love her chubby, dark legs.

Cutest bunny I have ever seen trying to distract me from cooking dinner.

Somewhere in the middle of all that gibberish is the Abu song. Coming soon to a record store near you. Toddler Idol, here she comes.

Proof that they are here to send us to an early grave, in a well meaning (yet evil) attempt at reducing the world's population.

When we returned home from our walk I started to fill up SS's pool. P arrived home for lunch a few minutes after us, and we all went inside. SS had a fit about this. She kept pointing to the door and would cry, saying "pool." I wanted to wait a while for the water to warm up a little (it's really hot here), and this set the tone for our afternoon.

SS slipped a few times, and I, of course, was right there to pick her up. But worrier that I am, I became concerned about dry drowning . Never mind that P has assured me that it is rare, and it would take a lot of water. Since I was placed on this earth for the sole purpose of worrying, I decided to do something about my irrational fear. I remembered the forbidden floatie that was in the van and went to get it. Hey, don't judge me, P does plenty of things that are no nos. Just my luck that SS was afraid of it. I then tried her PFD, what better way to keep her safe. SS slipped and landed on her back. The PFD did its job and kept her floating with her head safely above water. SS is most definitely our child, and was not pleased about the simple solution to drowning. She was furious that she was floating, when she clearly prefers being underwater. She cried, loud and angry. Oh well, too bad, my rules. SS began to take off her PFD and I gave her a firm, "If you want to be inside the pool, you must wear your PFD." Again, that thing about not negotiating with tiny terr0rists. SS stopped crying, but appeared truly scared of being in the pool. Not wanting to ruin her water baby status, I pulled her out, stripped her and brought her inside. SS took a power nap and woke up in the whiniest mood ever.

SS is an amazing whiner, capable of bringing hardened criminals to their knees with her whining. I usually deal well with her, but today I was in a zero tolerance mood for whining. SS wanted to get in the pool, fine, with a PFD. SS cried as though the PFD was ripping off her limbs. She became all clingy and demanded to be on my lap. UGH! I tried getting in with her, but that did not help. P called me to ask me if I needed him to pick up anything from the market. Poor guy and his lousy timing. SS was pi$$ed that I got her out and was screaming. I snapped at him saying that I could not talk, as I was about to murder our daughter (kidding, really kidding). I can be such an awful mother and wife. I have my own car, plenty of time, the guy is trying to be nice, and I bite his head off.

After terminating the call, I practiced some tough love with SS. When she started the panicking over a car bit, I told her she could hang on to me, but no clawing her way on top of me. After a while, she got the picture and stopped her crying and whining. I called P to apologize, but he was on his way home to save SS from her evil mother. It's OK for him to leave early, as he works overtime almost daily. I told him that SS calmed down and to take it easy.

My now calm and back to sweet SS said "pool," and climbed in by herself. OK, earlier, she needed my help. SS proceeded to kneel on the pool, with water up to her tender neck. If that wasn't enough to turn the rest of my hair gray, SS sat down. This was hilarious to SS, but not funny to me, at all.

Look tiny agent of mass destruction (that is you SS), I think it is very noble that you are worried about the world being over populated. But think about this, if you get rid of us, who's going to reach the top shelves for you? HAH!

When P arrived home I told him it was all his fault, for teaching her to be comfortable in water. Oh yeah, I was on a roll. I cooked dinner, cleaned the kitchen and am currently giving myself a time out.

Look Mama, now go look in the mirror and watch the gray hairs sprout.

Oh yeah, loving every dangerous second.

Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah.

Are we being selfish?

Last week during dinner, P asked, "When is she going to stop being so irresistibly cute?" I knew what he meant, because we had spent some time out and about with SS. The whole strangers coming up to us is beginning to get on his nerves. We have been a conspicuous family for well over a decade, so we are used to people looking at us, trying to figure out what the heck we are to each other. And that is my experience with conspicuous families. Lots of stares, but not that many people who come up to talk.

I told P that most kids lose their baby face, pinch me look by age four. But since SS will always appear younger (due to her size), who knows, maybe until she reaches school age. P dropped his fork and stated, "What? We have years of this, because I am done, I won't be able to take it. I want some peace and quiet, to just be." This is where the harsh part of me wanted to say tough, you should have thought about that when you were adamant about having a multiracial family. But there's that other part of me that totally understood where he's coming from.

SS really enjoys our morning walks, and so do I. When we are done walking, we usually spend time under the bridge where the ducks, geese and the precious shade hang out. Sometimes I just want to spend my time there just hanging out with SS. Watching my daughter play with her echo, watching my daughter's enthusiasm every freaking time she sees a duck, a goose, or her shadow. But every single time, someone ends up coming up to us and striking a conversation. And of course, they are well meaning individuals, so telling them to go away is out of the question. How did this social magnet of a child end up with the two dullest, shyest parents is a conundrum.

This morning an elderly lady came up to SS with a caterpillar. SS had been spotting them for me during our walk, but that is as close as she was willing to get. The lady wanted SS to touch the caterpillar, but SS was not biting. He husband came to "help" her out, and that landed SS in my arms. My social little girl even turned her face away from them. So instead of relaxing with SS, I had to get her out of the situation. It really annoyed me, because I know they meant well. However, they were interested in "filling their tank," in P's so eloquent words. So I had to pack it in early and cut her fun short.

Last night we went out for dinner, and were seated next to a couple with three children. From their conversation, it appeared that they were a blended family. Their little boy was taken with SS and they kept smiling and waving at each other. Unbeknown to me, the father had asked P about SS's nationality, and P said that she was Chinese. As we were getting ready to leave, the father stood up abruptly, and stated, "So, did you adopt her?" To me totally out of the blue, and let me tell you that I wanted to respond, "No, I cheated on my husband with a Chinese man, so thanks for bringing it up." Don't be appalled, P thinks is hilarious. :) An older man sitting across from us did not like the question and glared at the curious father. I smiled and said that yes, we proudly adopted our daughter. Then we got the hell out of there.

We are indeed very proud that SS is Chinese, and we never considered any other programs. And now that she does not understand it is more about the intrusive nature of the questions. We do not want SS to be defined by her status as an adopted child. She IS our daughter, just like JJ is our son. They DO NOT need freaking qualifiers, they are JJ and SS. When we think about them, we can come up with dozens of adjectives, all positive (except when they try our patience, we are human); but biological, step or adopted never cross our minds. If it does not matter to us, why do people give a rat's a$$?

We also know that SS is going to take her cues from us. It's important that we do not let our annoyance give her the impression that there is something wrong with how she joined our family. She could not fit better had she come from us. The bottom line is that we do not feel like sharing with everyone why and how we decided to grow our family.

Hi goose!

Observing a caterpillar. This is close enough for her comfort.

More water time.

P and SS were outside this morning, while I cleaned the kitchen from the breakfast carnage. When I finally made it outside, I found P and SS lounging in a larger pool. We bought that pool for SS over two years ago, for $7.50, not a bad deal. I had not thought of using it because I felt it was too deep for her. But P had other ideas and fearing our first 100 degree day of the summer, just hauled it out. Like he said, "Why should SS be the only cooling off in water"? SS did really well and even spent time getting in and out on her own. Before I knew it, I was sitting next to them, still in my jammies. I know, how classy. We had a pretty easy going day, just watching SS enjoy herself and making us laugh with her antics.

I asked SS to look at me, like I do a few dozen times a day when taking pictures. When SS saw the camera, she moved closer to P and placed her arm around him. This is the first time she has posed for us. It was quite funny.

Being a ham.

They just crack each other up.

SS and her personal lifeguard.

She is getting so dark, and that is with heavy doses of SPF 50. Meanwhile, there is no progress with my pasty appearance, and I only use SPF 10. What gives?

Parade

Oh yeah, it's that time of the year.

Tushie Cushie

For the past few months, SS has become very interested in bodily functions. Every time I think I have a shred of dignity left, SS makes sure to bring me back to reality. Our girl must have undergone Ninja training at the SWI, because she is one stealthy little thing. I am minding my business in the bathroom, and next thing I know, there is a very curious person opening my legs and watching. Sorry, I know, TMI. This is new for me, and I can't say I'm enjoying it. P, on the other hand, announces when he is going to the bathroom. He is then followed by a very happy SS, who stands and supervises.

SS has been watching and learning, and is not too happy about wearing diapers. She has been really good at letting us know when she is about to have a bowel movement. SS knows where her diapers and wipes are. She merely walks up to me with both and lays down. P and I are not really ready for potting training, as it will be one more independent thing, one less thing for us to help her do. However, it is not fair to SS to deny her the opportunity to advance developmentally. What to do?

Last week, SS starting pulling on her diaper, said "poop," and used the sign . She has done that many times before and I got ready for a diaper change. SS pointed at the bathroom and said "please." Oh, what the heck. I took her diaper off, propped her on the toilet and waited. I thought she would be afraid of falling in, but she did really well. Since we are practicing fly by the seat of your pants parenting, we were not prepared for this. We had not purchased a potty for SS. Ouch. SS made a small offering to the porcelain G0d, and quickly looked inside the bowl. OMG, SS was SO proud of herself. I wiped her, put another diaper on, and she proceeded to dance, hop, and sing "poo poo, poo poo, poo poo."

If anyone told me a year ago that I would be making a big deal out of bodily functions, I would have ripped their heads off and bury them in the backyard. A firm handshake and a sincere "congratulations" should suffice. But once I saw the pride on that little face, I turned into a complete idiot. I not only sang the poo poo song (made up on the spot), but also did the poo poo in the potty dance. Next thing I know, SS and I are dancing a la C@lvin and H0bbes all over the living room. Our little girl was simply overjoyed. Kids...

When P arrived home for lunch twenty minutes later, SS was still on a poo poo high. She had saved her masterpiece for Baba, quite a sacrifice. SS loves to flush the toilet, so this was a big deal. So we broke into another round of the potty song and dance. I am so glad that this was a private moment. No way would I want that stuff captured for posterity.

SS is now the proud toddler owner of two tushie cushies. We opted to get those instead of a potty, because for SS, it is about imitating us. So now her bathroom and the downstairs bathroom are ready when she is. The master bathroom will remain tushie cushie free. We also purchased pull ups and that was quite an experience. Whatever happened to unisex diapers? Why does it have to be a car motif or gag me, Di.sne.y princesses crap? I do not want my daughter to grow up thinking that she needs some yo yo in shining armor to be fulfilled. I want my daughter to be able to kick @ss and not even smear her eyeliner. Where are the motifs for that? And do not get me started on P00h (sorry Dis.ney lovers). What is with that reprehensible creature? Think about it, it walks around without pants, and with his butt sticking up in the air. As parents, we think that is just asking for trouble. We settled on D0ra pull ups, and were very disappointed when we got home. D0ra is la Exploradora, but in pull up land, she is dressed as a princess. GAG ME. Anyhoo, we are not going to rush SS into potty land, but at least we are prepared.

Now for my admission of hypocrisy for the day. I'm partial to Ariel, because she lives under the sea. She also saved the life of the dude who could not swim. Not sure if this actually happened, but that's my story.

SS is the proud owner of a duckie tushie cushie.

P bought this as a gift for me a few months ago. It has a dock for the iPh0ne and it was meant for me to listen to music while I'm in the kitchen. So, what is it doing in SS's bathroom? It has become part of P and SS's bath time musical extravaganza. They listen to music, they dance, they sing, the flood the bathroom floor, and have a really good time. Then P wonders why it is so darn difficult to get SS to sleep. Any ideas?

I have neglected to show my Mother's Day gift. P was sick of watching me haul my laptop upstairs, and when we stayed away from home. Now I have a small netbook, just as my eyesight is worsening. :) It has a video cam, on the top, right in the middle, that little circle. There is a possibility that SS and I will be apart from P for about a week this summer. This way, SS can see and talk to her Baba daily. It will also be helpful for me not to lug my precious De.ll, since I will be on my own with SS.

Because this much cuteness needs to be shared.

The highlight of SS's morning walk.

I took off her lap belt so she could get a good look at the passing horse. SS was so excited that she tried to get under the chain to go and play with the horsey. I am glad that I had a good grip on her.

SS is one quirky, funky chicken. This is the child who is afraid of plain pumpkins, but loves monsters, ghosts, and jack-o-lanterns. The child who is afraid of car noises and gets spooked when P turns the key on the door, every single time. But here she is, looking at an animal many times her size, a creature that can easily have her as a snack, and she wants to run and play with it. What the heck? SS is afraid of soft noises, but was totally giggling with delight at the clacking of the Clysdale's hooves. How did we get so freaking lucky?

The ultimate Yunnan Ham.

Watching the rehearsal for the upcoming animal show. This IS serious. I love her intent look.

Two years old, two countries, two passports and two new molars.

Oh yeah, this is all about SS's favorite number. But let's start with her two new molars, because that is truly a big deal for us. SS came to us with four upper and four bottom teeth. Our poor baby girl has been on a constant state of teething since we met. We feel bad for all that drool, discomfort and crankiness. She had her incisors and four molars by Thanksgiving, then nothing. How long does teething last? Doctor S told us not to worry, that she'll be having teething issues until she's at least nine. Thanks lady, that really helped. Last week I was playing with SS, had her upside down, and noticed two new molars. Yeah, happy molar dance (I just made that up)!

Last Friday SS received her US passport. I'm not sure why we applied for it or if it is a good idea. The girl already has all of our bank account information and passwords safely stored in her memory. We have found some pretty good attempts at forging our signatures. Do we really need to tempt her with a passport?

SS's passport pictures were taken eight months apart. Kind of cool to look at the difference that time has made. We are not naive to think that the scared little girl is totally gone. Her face is fuller and she has three adults watching over her and her well being. But that scared little girl is still there, she has built walls to protect herself, and we are chipping away. We won't stop until every trace is obliterated.

This morning I was thinking about SS's first mug shot. We have no idea how old she was at the time. But if her two other referral pictures were taken at nine months, we estimate she was 5-6 months. She looked chunky in that picture, how deceiving.

Remember?

Eight months later.

Mail for me? I wonder what it could be.

Oh my gosh, I am gorgeous!