DameCatoe

Wouldn't it be nice

2012-02-15T14:49:00.000-06:00

So last week, I came clean that I hope Catoe 4.0 is the baby in Huainan that Love Without Boundaries posted to their Facebook page in November.

Well, who did they post a pic of again this week?

Be still my heart.

Where is Autumn?

2012-02-14T14:40:00.000-06:00

I feel a mixture of guilt and relief that we had my grandmother’s dog put to sleep yesterday.

We asked my cousins and uncle if either of them wanted the dog. They did not. A friend suggested a “no kill” shelter, but Etowah County does not have one of those.

So Kris took her to the vet yesterday. A young couple was there with a new puppy. They gave him the evil eye when the technician said aloud that Autumn was there to be euthanized.

I should have told the kids after I picked them up from school, but they were monomaniacs of a candy mind.

Zoe attends Head Start on Monday mornings and they gave her two giant bags of candy for Valentine’s. She must have spent the afternoon telling her brothers all about it, because the second they saw me at the door, it was all “candy! there’s candy! can we eat the candy yet???”

I told them it was still in Daddy’s truck and that nobody would be eating any candy until after dinner. Which went in one ear and out the other, because as soon as they saw Kris, they shouted “can we have the candy yet? where is the candy?”

While Kris finished cooking dinner, I made the kids watch cartoons so I could divide the candy into three bowls and hide a good portion of it in the pantry. (I think Zoe came home with less candy at Halloween!)

After dinner, Kris and I sat on the sun porch while the kids each got to pick a show. We told them that after they had all had a turn, it would be time for candy.

Cash came onto the sun porch while Ben and Zoe watched Dinosaur Train. He looked at the empty pillow.

“Where Autumn?”

“Daddy took her to the vet as a way for her to be with GJ.”

(Yes, the current theological stance at Casa de Catoe is that dogs go to heaven.)

When it was Cash’s turn to watch Diego, Ben came to see us.

“Where is Autumn?”

Here we go again.

“Daddy took her to the vet.”

Ben wants to know more, because he is nearly five. I do not want to say “yeah, we had that old dog killed.” But when I researched how to tell them about GJ’s death, sources suggested euphemisms are a bad idea.

So I explained euthanasia to Ben. The factual part involving shots and the more philosophical part that this was GJ’s dog and she belonged with GJ, not us.

In the middle of this, Yo Gabba Gabba ended and Zoe came in.

“Where is Autumn?”

Eventually, we had the whole family on the sun porch, talking about death and getting old.

(Zoe prefers to do neither, which made me smile. I wanted to tell her that my mom once wrote a poem saying she didn’t want to die or grow old, either.)

I told the kids that if one of our cats was sick and medicine couldn’t help them, they too would be euthanized.

We talked about burial. That the cats would be buried in our yard but that we paid the vet to bury Autumn, because she was not our pet.

And then all the kids went and ate a bowl full of candy.

My little Valentines

2012-02-13T15:06:00.000-06:00

We had a lot of To Do’s for Saturday: hit the Moxie for the kids’ haircuts, make Valentines, sign Ben up for soccer, Katie comin’ to babysit, plus the usual rigmarole of paying the bills, doing the laundry, menu-planning and grocery-shopping.

Ben wanted to pick out the valentines for school this year, and I told him we could. But I had planned on this happening after a dinner out on Friday and then Patsy invited us to the water tower.

Saturday morning, I found the box that contained the remnants of last year’s valentines and there were enough for a second go. But I also had an individual Valentine craft for each of them and a pink Dum Dum.

We bundled them up and hit the Moxie in the freezing wind. I promised them their Valentine surprise when we got home.

While they were getting Moxied, I remembered that it was a year ago that we took them to the salon for the first time and then later in the day, gave them Valentines. Aww. It made me wish I’d brought my camera, but not enough to go back to the van and brave the cold to get the pursecam.

But I did photograph them working on their little crafts.

And then I got a photo of them with the finished product, and a group shot.

In their sticker-adhering, cupcake-coloring, sucker-having glee, I’m not sure they noticed or cared that the “valentines for school” I made them sign were the same kind as last year. A good candy high conceals much.

The weekend was also the first time Cash tried wearing underwear, but those pix I won't post!

And we hit KMart to avoid the crowds of WalMart, only the Big K is close to closing for good, and the store was crowded with sales-hunters. Ben and Zoe asked for a toy and I said "if I can find something not too pricey." They each got a toy. We got one for 4.0, too. Because it's only a matter of when.

Promise

2012-02-10T14:11:00.000-06:00

Hey, do you guys remember that back in the fall, Love Without Boundaries posted a photo of a baby with albinism on their Facebook page? A baby in Zoe’s orphanage?

For awhile, I did a really good job of not thinking of that baby. Because we didn’t even have a complete home study. We were months away from being able to look at kids’ files. (We still are – just less months now.)

But over time, she crept into my thoughts. I said I wouldn’t think about her, but I did.

And now I want it to be her, because I am eager to connect.

It seems impossible. We don’t even know if she will be available for international adoption.

So I don’t know if she is to be our daughter. I know that many times in my life, I had what I thought to be a great plan and God showed me that His was better.

However, when the kids ask to pray for their little sister, it is a baby in Huainan that I picture.

And I think that’s okay. Because ours or not, she is a little one, orphaned.

I’m not ready for this

2012-02-08T14:38:00.000-06:00

Not long after Zoe decided she wanted to quit dance, I noticed her doing somersaults.

“Maybe she’d like gymnastics,” we said.

We have talked about getting Ben to try tae kwon do and of Cash doing soccer. All of these things were supposed to take place “in the fall.” That nebulous future where we have a 3-year-old and two kindergarteners.

But then Kris went to a Connections meeting downtown and discovered that the YMCA has a gymnastics class for children with special needs. (Y’know, like being legally blind.)

I took Zoe last week. She LOVED it. The flips, the running, the jumping. She couldn’t wait to go back.

The coaches assessed her and said we could come at 5:30 instead. This is great for two reasons: it gets us home earlier and places her with more peers her age.

Of course, in the two weeks that Zoe has been a gymnast, Ben has been keen to have something for him to do.

Spring soccer registration is this Saturday.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, when did we become the family with extracurriculars for the kids?

I’m all for physical activity and team-building and fostering a sense of adventure... until it involves me shuttling the kids around after work instead of retiring to the sun porch with a beverage.

Quest for Love

2012-02-07T16:43:00.000-06:00

Last year, I meant to write a five-part series on how Kris and I met. I got sidelined and did not finish and instead condensed what I had into a single post for our anniversary.

But while I was in the planning stages (going through my journal from the time, etc.), I re-read Elisabeth Elliot's Quest for Love. It was a book I read in 2001 prior to dating Kris and it informed much of my approach.

Reading it in early 2011, what I kept noticing was that the book is full of missionaries who go to China.

“Oh, ha-ha, God,” I thought to myself.

Because, you see, in early 2011, we were in the hardest part of transitioning Zoe into our family. We had the earliest inkling that God would have us do it again and we were adamantly opposed to the idea. (We later had a change of heart.)

I thought I was reading the book to gear my mind for a storytelling exercise. But no.

Toward the end of the book, Ms. Elliot offers a list. In 2001, I printed it out and taped it to the wall of my crappy apartment. It offered great wisdom for a girl looking for her husband.

When I read the book again in 2011, I thought about how appropriate the list would be for prospective adoptive parents, a.k.a. PAPs.

So a year later, I’m pasting it here for me. PAP once more. Mother seeking child.

Aim, above all else, at loving God.

Make a wholehearted surrender of your life to God.

Believe that He takes you at your word.

Pray, making your requests known to God.

Watch.

Expect Him to give you what He knows is best for you.

Receive His answer for today.

Trust His timing.

Obey God in the least thing shown.

Commit your fears and uncertainties to Him.

Act on principle, not impulse; will, not emotion.

Do not walk into temptation. Flee.

Keep a quiet heart.

Do the next thing.

Preschool photography IV

2012-02-06T13:44:00.000-06:00

Cash is getting the hang of the camera. We got a self-portrait and some feet.

Moody carpet lighting.

And when Cash is not behind the lens, he has taken to posing for his siblings.

One of the kids took a pic of the dog. Not sure if it was Zoe or Ben.

Preschool photography I, II and III.

Siblings Without Rivalry

2012-02-03T13:59:00.000-06:00

I got a little off my reading goals (at least one fiction and non-fiction book a month) over the holidays. I read two campy romances in December but could not make myself finish Siblings Without Rivalry.

But I've got a new non-fic on the way (as well as a Crusie romance), so I buckled down and finished Sibs.

The book makes some good points, but I did not like the style. Vonette on GoodReads said it well in her review:

It's written in a pseudo-narrative format including dialogue, told from the point of view of the leader of a group of parents who are learning how to help their children get along. The dialogue sounds canned and repetitive. The note at the beginning makes it clear that the whole narrative is fictionalized -- based on true experiences of real parents but after awhile it all starts to feel canned. Though I found the book helpful in many ways, it is clearly a product of its 1980's origins.

But so I don’t forget the parts of the book that I really liked, I’m transcribing them below...

It isn’t necessary to respond to each child with equal passion. It’s perfectly normal to have different feelings toward different children. The only thing that is necessary is that we take another look at [each] child, seek out her specialness, then reflect the wonder of it back to her.

I like that. Revel in who each child is.

Children should be encouraged to share, and for very practical reasons. Just to get along in this world, they’ll need to know how to share — goods, space, themselves. And for spiritual reasons as well. We want our children to experience the goodwill that comes from voluntary giving. Making children share, however, only makes them clutch their possessions more tightly. Forced sharing undermines goodwill.

Ben had two Hershey’s kisses in his cubby yesterday. I did not make him share, much to Zoe’s dismay.

Make sure that each child gets some time alone with you. Children thrive on the warmth and intimacy of private moments with their parents. … When spending time with one child, don’t talk about the other.

I wonder if it must be quality alone time or if running errands counts!

Onward

2012-02-02T14:49:00.000-06:00

We have a completed home study, which means we can apply to immigration. Progress towards Catoe 4.0!

My adoption fund and checking accounts are zapped. (Sapped would mean the money seeped out. I mean they were zapped. Pow, pow, two big checks and boom, $20 bucks in one and $28 in the other. Zap.)

It was comforting to know that we had the money in the account to pay the second agency installment. (Third is due with the dossier, I believe.)

But comfortable does not equal movement. I’d rather be moving and a little uncertain than comfortable and stalled.

We had dinner with the Jones last night, and on the way home, Zoe announced from the back seat “I love my little sister.”

For an instant, it was breathtakingly sweet.

And then Ben began to argue with her that “she’s not just your sister” and Zoe countered “only me and mommy love little sister” so I had to chime in that she’s everybody’s little sister and we all love each other and then Ben tattled “Zoe says I don’t love my little sister...”

That’s how the sweet moments go in the Catoe house. Boom! Knock-you-over-sweetness. Followed quickly by a cacophony of arguments and whining. And probably somebody pooping.

Convos about the kiddos

2012-02-01T14:40:00.000-06:00

While my Dad drove us to Dothan on Friday, Patsy and I made conversation. We talked a lot about the kids, which is hard to do with the wee ones present. She asked which of the toys they got for Christmas seemed to be the favorites.

I thought for a moment. What had I witnessed them playing with the most in the previous week?

Each other.

Ben and Cash kept getting out the dump truck and cat food container to play “crash.” Zoe kept bringing her pillows into the boys’ room so they could make a pillow pile to jump on. All of the toy buckets were emptied so each could be used to play “baby” — where they get in the bucket, cry “wahhhh” and fall over.

It was a happy revelation to me.

I told her about our new nighttime ritual, where once they are in pajamas with brushed teeth, they each pick out a story and climb onto “Mommy and Daddy’s bed” and I read all three stories. The kid who picked the story sits in my lap during their turn.

The Spiffiest Giant in Town was Zoe’s favorite last week.

We talked about the various ways I have lucked out with my posse.

For instance, there are no Barbies at my house. This is not because I have made a concentrated effort to ban her. It’s just because Zoe was already 4 years old when she came home. And by the time her birthday and Christmas rolled around, we’d all realized she’s not into dolls.

I have a feeling that if she’d been here from the beginning, the Barbie creep would have begun sooner. It’s one thing for a mom to not buy her daughter any Barbies. (Or any of the other scantily-clad plasticine ilk.) But you have to be a little draconian to forbid well-meaning friends and family who aren’t up on your feminism.

Patsy asked how pink came to be Zoe’s favorite color.

“I think it was from the kids at school,” I said. “We know Zoe is über girly and adapts well. Once she got the notion from her peers that pink is for girls, she was all ‘then I shall have PINK!’”

I mentioned that the kids don’t see commercials. They either watch streaming shows on Netflix or a DVD when the internet is not working. (The only channel they watch at the grands’ is Nick Jr., which is commercial-free. And the daycare does DVDs in the afternoons. No cable TV for toddlers and preschoolers, w00t!)

No commercials for toys (or breakfast cereals) means a simpler life for moi because they don’t ask for stuff they see advertised. And we usually run all our errands while the kids hang out with their grandparents, so it is very rare for one of them to even be in a WalMart or mall, so very little “I want that! And that! And this!”

We talked about how, yes, I would love an iPhone. But that it’s not just the upfront cost, it’s the data plan, too. So I will be a holdout as long as I can. (And it’s one less thing for my children to argue over.)

Januarys past

2012-01-31T21:33:00.001-06:00

Wow, am I glad to say goodbye to January. This was a stressful month.

I’m sure in the future, I will look back and see it as “the month GJ died.”

But right now, it was also the month where we were trying so hard to finally, finally finish the home study update.

And the month where the New York Times sold The Gadsden Times and I became an employee of a new company (with less sick and personal days and a 6% decrease in salary) while still working with the same people, at the same place, doing the same things.

And the last month to be covered under our old insurance plan. Which was good for oh, my root canal and Cash getting strep throat and Kris doing a nuclear stress test and several pairs of eyeglasses.

There were some happy things this month, like Cole and Evan’s birthday parties, and celebrating the Year of the Dragon. Ben got to build a dinosaur at Lowe’s. Zoe got to try gymnastics. Cash got the cast off.

I poked around my archives to see what Januarys past held.

2004: we had just moved into the duplexes.

2005: GJ had just bought her house downtown.

2006: I was pregnant.

2007: We were working on opening the Moxie.

2008: We sold the ‘plexes.

2009: I was pregnant, again. We were kitchenless.

2010: We got a van. Our neighbor was murdered.

2011: We became a family of five.

Januarys are big.

And this one is over.

Nice

2012-01-30T16:37:00.000-06:00

It was nice seeing my cousins at GJ’s funeral. I haven’t seen them in years and years. We left with promises to friend up on Facebook.

And it was nice to see the turnout for GJ. To hear how much she meant to her students over the years. (I already knew how much she meant to her family.)

I was only gone for an evening, but the kids missed me. Was glad I was home the next morning.

We took them by her house yesterday. I wanted to take a picture of something. Doug was probably out to dinner. While I photographed, Kris let the kids wander through the house and see that not only is GJ not there anymore, neither is her stuff.

A way for them to say goodbye.

GJ's eulogy

2012-01-28T16:08:00.000-06:00

Janis Claire Hawkins was born on October 31, 1914, to parents Walter and Alice Hawkins in Headland, Alabama. Janis had two older sisters, Hilda and Margaret, but Margaret died from blood poisoning a month before Janis was born. Janis also had two brothers, Jerome and Lynn, and one younger sister, Elsie.

In 1932, Janis graduated from Dothan High School. She went to college at the all-girls school Montevallo and then on to Troy University. Her degree was in teaching. During her college years, she won the State Teacher’s College beauty contest. An article about the contest ran in the Mobile Register, along with a picture, and Janis received mail from boys she’d never even met.

Janis finished college in 1936. The same year, she met her future husband, Ralph Moseley. He was on a date with a girl named Marcel but they needed another girl to be the date for Ralph’s friend Jack. Marcel suggested they call Janis Hawkins.

Ralph called again the next Sunday (and the next), because now he wanted Janis to be his date. They were married the next year. The wedding took place in Pensacola.

The newlyweds lived at 104 Denton Street in the Moseley house, because the rest of the Moseley family had moved to Anniston. They lived at the house for nine years, until the Moseleys returned to Dothan.

Ralph found a house to rent on Herring Street. Janis did not like the house, but it was just after World War II and houses were hard to find. They bought the house a year later, with Ralph’s promise that “We’ll live here five years, and then we’ll build.” They stayed on Herring Street for 30 years.

In 1939, Janis gave birth to her first son James Ralph. They called him Jimmy. In 1942, he was joined by a little brother — Charles Clark. Twins John Douglas and George Richard came along 1946 and in 1949, Janis astounded all of Dothan by finally giving birth to a girl. They called her Jan.

In 1960, Janis went back to teaching. She intended to be a substitute teacher, but principal Sadie of Rosehill Elementary asked Janis to replace a teacher who had resigned. Janis taught 6th grade students. Some of her favorites were James Riley and Jimmy Fair.

When the Dothan schools were integrated in the 1970s, Janis went to Montana Elementary. She taught under principal Michael Patton, whom Janis thought was a great principal. Janis retired from Montana.

Ralph died of cancer in 1973, and Janis sold the house on Herring and built a home on Danmore Street in 1977. She lived there until 1988, when she built onto her daughter Jan’s house in Southside, Alabama.

In 2005, after Jan’s death in 2003, Janis moved to a house in downtown Gadsden to be close to her granddaughter Laura and grandson-in-law Kris.

Janis loved many things.

She loved flowers: yellow roses and the climbing vine wisteria were some of her favorites, but she was also fond of ferns and African violets, hydrangeas and the Azalea trail and a Cherokee Rose from her friend BC.

She loved animals: over the years, she had least a dozen different Pekingese. She was a regular supporter of animal rights.

Janis loved to walk and swim, she loved dolls and antiques, she loved to read and reminisce.

But most of all, she loved her family.

Picnik

2012-01-26T14:53:00.000-06:00

Picnik is going away. I do not have a Picnik account, but I was able to use it through my Flickr account. Flickr promises that users will still be able to edit photos on the site, but hasn’t revealed how yet.

I did not often use Picnik, but I liked the ease of adding effects. So much faster than Photoshop!

I could make my photos taken on an SLR look like I shot them on a cellphone and applied a photo-app! Which, hey, really is sometimes fun. It speaks of the age. Like Polaroids use to. And yes, there was a Polaroid effect.

There was a vintage '60s look:

A faux Lomo:

And a faux Holga:

You could "cross process" and "vignette:"

Add a postage stamp border:

Or "movember" mustaches:

Perhaps a little letterboxing:

Picnik was fun. I hope whatever Flickr has in store is even better.

Pajama Day 2012

2012-01-25T13:38:00.000-06:00

The sunglasses were Ben's idea.

We've come a long way since PJ Day 2011.

Told

2012-01-24T16:53:00.002-06:00

When I pick up the kids from school, I have a snack for each of them. A pack of gummies, a box of raisins, a ziploc bag of pretzels, etc.

Yesterday, I had nothing.

“We’ll find something when we get home,” I promised. “I forgot to put a snack in the van this morning because I had to go to the dentist.” (Temporary crown for that root canal.)

“Crackers?” Cash asked.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t think of that.”

I keep snack crackers at work and sometimes if I forget a snack for the kids, I grab a pack and they each get two crackers. It’s not their preferred choice, but it beats nothing. I didn’t even think of it.

“I’m just distracted today.” Okay, now or never. Like a band-aid. “GJ died in the hospital yesterday and that has me distracted.”

They wanted to know why.

I told them because GJ was very old and our bodies are not made to last forever. They stop working.

Where is she, they asked.

I told them her body was going to be buried in the city she grew up in.

But where is she, they asked again.

I told them her spirit was in Heaven.

Zoe wanted to know again if we would get a new GJ.

Ben asked few questions.

Cash saw a green truck parked in someone’s driveway and thankfully changed the subject.

“Big truck!”

The long goodbye

2012-01-23T14:33:00.000-06:00

On Sunday, June 22, 2003, my mother passed away at Riverview hospital.

On Sunday, January 22, 2012, my grandmother passed away at Riverview hospital.

The last time I went to see her was Wednesday morning before work. I had to wake her up, and she was cognizant. But she could not speak to me, and it was hard for her to move. She tried, but the effort seemed too much.

Medical advice tells us walking is great for the body. I told GJ that she had taken too many walks. (She LOVED to walk.) Because here she was, ready to go, and yet her body would not yield. The spirit willing, the flesh too strong.

Cash came down with a fever on Thursday, and Doug advised us not to come by and visit since GJ was in a frail state already.

She slipped into a coma and Doug authorized a feeding tube to see if it would help. It did not.

My other grandmother (Mama Juanita) called us yesterday. The kids were with Kris’ parents and we were on our way to get some dinner.

[We went to Uncle Sam’s. Years ago, I ate a meal at Pruett’s while mom was in the hospital. BBQ = the dwindling of my maternal line.]

Juanita had been at the hospital for two hours that afternoon.

“Did she know you were there?” I asked.

The answer was no. But Juanita told me that GJ was breathing peacefully.

“She’s going to get her wish,” Juanita said. “To die in her sleep.”

Half an hour after we had this conversation, GJ passed away.

We were picking up the kids when Doug called to let us know.

Later, he called back to ask if I would write a eulogy. He asked if there was anything I have written over the years that GJ would want me to read.

“Yeah, there was a poem I wrote in high school. She had it all picked out.”

Here is the thing: Doug does not have the papers.

GJ had her funeral all planned out and written down... on papers in a desk that was carefully wrapped and shipped to Florida two weeks ago.

Kris and I remember a few details that she has told us over the years.

“She wanted Charman to sing something... I don’t know what,” I said.

“‘How Great Thou Art?’” Kris called from another room. “And there was an outfit.”

“Whatever she wore to Richard’s wedding. It was pink, I think.”

You can plan it all out and still you’re at the mercy of your kinfolk’s memories.

Doug has wondered if it will be appropriate to attend his mother’s funeral in jeans. All of his suits are in Lakeland. He came to Alabama to pack and move his mother to Florida, not bury her.

I feel relieved that GJ’s struggle is over. And a crushing sadness to be without my mother and grandmother.

I have yet to discover how we will explain GJ’s death to the kids.

C'mon, kid

2012-01-20T13:40:00.002-06:00

Well, Cash had at least one full week at school so far this year. But yesterday, I got a call before lunch that he was running a 102.3 fever. My dad was able to go get him (I had a Gadsden Style interview in Oneonta) and then Kris' dad got him and then Kris went and picked him up. One fever, three wrecked schedules.

He has no other symptoms. Just the fever. So we dope him up with kids' Tylenol and this is what he does — races with Ben using the cat food container as a truck.

Kris' dad kept him again this morning, so I could get in a half day. I shot a photo gallery of Career Day at Attalla Elementary School.

So Cash and I are semi-stay-at-home-moming today.

No word on GJ. Last I heard, they were considering a feeding tube.

LWB's Red Envelope Campaign

2012-01-17T13:48:00.000-06:00

Love Without Boundaries is doing a Red Envelope Campaign for Huainan nutrition. Once Eoin and Rex found homes, we designated our monthly donation to the nutrition needs in Zoe's orphanage.

Copied from the LWB newsletter (emphasis mine):

Chinese New Year, held on January 23rd this year, is the most important of the traditional Chinese holidays. Families will clean their homes to sweep away bad luck, decorate windows and doors with red colored couplets, feast with family members on the eve of Chinese New Year, and end the night with firecrackers. Early on New Year's Day children will don new outfits and receive money in red paper envelopes.

But there are many children in China without families to celebrate with them. This year, to honor those children, Love Without Boundaries is running a special campaign for the children in our Believe in Me Huainan School. Won't you join us in giving a New Year's gift to an orphan?

Our Believe in Me schools were designed to provide the joy of education to children in orphanages who would otherwise be unable to attend school. While the children delight in learning and expanding their horizons in these schools, the sad reality is that many of the children are hungry. This orphanage is a rural facility with very meager resources. LWB has made a commitment to these children to help them with better nutrition.

The "Older Child Nutrition Program" is for kids aged 2-16 - mainly concentrating on providing them with much needed protein, which they rarely get. There are 75 students in our Believe in Me Huainan School. For less than $1 a snack, the children receive a fresh or dried protein snack, as well as fruit and milk. However this is an expense of nearly $1,000 per month!

We would like to ask for your assistance to help us continue providing essential nutrition to these wonderful children. We are asking all our supporters to give the gift of a red envelope to an orphan in China this Chinese New Year. Simply put $1 in an envelope and mail it to:

LWB
Red Envelope Campaign
PO Box 25016
Oklahoma City, OK 73125

Did not see that one coming

2012-01-16T18:26:00.000-06:00

I thought my grandmother left for Florida on Friday.

On Saturday, her car was still there. We called Doug.

He wasn't sure she was in a condition to make the drive, so he delayed it hoping she'd be better Sunday.

She was worse.

Not eating. Tremors. Skin and bones.

Today she is in the hospital.

And we are in limbo.

Gone

2012-01-13T16:00:00.000-06:00

GJ, my 97-year-old grandmother, is on her way to Florida. Autumn, her 14-year-old dog, is with us.

The dog pees the floor, because she is old.

Kris and I discussed yesterday that it’s not ideal for such an old dog to be in a home with three small children and two adults who are gone all day.

“But GJ really has gotten too sick to take care of her,” I said.

Zoe was having breakfast beside me and asked why.

“Because GJ is really old,” I told her.

“I don’t like GJ getting old,” Zoe replied.

“Neither do I. Neither does she.”

A moment passed and Zoe suggested we get a new GJ.

“That’s not how it works.”

Kris was pouring his coffee and said “hey, if they make mugs for the championship, get one for me and Paw Paw.”

Our mug shelf is full. I go over to inspect which mug we could retire to make room for a new one. They all have sentimental meanings.

I found one in the very back covered with images of Ben, Cash and Zoe. As soon as I saw the mug, I thought of taking it to GJ.

The movers were coming, and I needed to say goodbye. It felt right to give her something of us to take with her, even though she has far too much stuff already.

I thought of going by on my way to work and then realized there was a chance GJ wouldn’t be awake yet. I decide to go after lunch. It’d be hard to sleep through movers emptying your house, right?

I arrived at 12:30 p.m. GJ was still asleep. In the dark.

I couldn’t figure out her bedside lamp - one of those antique glass numbers. I flipped the overhead light on instead.

Her eyes opened. I sat on the side of her bed. I can’t remember what I said. All was nullified by her response.

“Do I know you?”

You could say.

“Yes.” I rambled some, hoping my voice would trigger her. No.

“Who are you?”

Well.

“Your granddaughter.” But that’s not a name. “Laura.”

No spark of recognition. She apologized, saying she was still half asleep and confused. The way one politely apologizes to a stranger for an inconvenience.

“That’s okay,” I said.

Before I could decide on my next move, she asked “are you Laura?”

“I am.”

And then she was there with me.

She told me it’s awful. To be this way. So confused, not knowing what is happening. She asked twice what time of day it was. Asked “what will they do with me?”

“You’re going to Florida,” I said.

“When?”

“Soon.”

And then she spoke of what I have thought but not said: that we will probably never see each other again.

“Oh, Laura. I wanted to help raise you.”

“You did. I’m grown.”

But I know the threads are overlapping and that she also means she had plans for my children. (She wanted Ben and Zoe to walk to her house after they begin elementary school.)

I handed her the mug.

“I know the last thing you need is more stuff, but I brought you this.”

“That is just precious!” she declared, perfectly.

She thanked me for coming by, the way one does when you are receiving visitors at the hospital. Asked that I turn the light back off.

I passed Doug and told him about the mug. He gave me some eye drops for the dog. I commented on the weather, a shame that it was such a gloomy day. He said at least it was better than the day before, when it rained.

Like meta commentary. This sucks, but there are ways it could be worse.

I walked back to my van. And cried the whole way back to my job.

The will to not worry

2012-01-12T11:11:00.000-06:00

Kris and I went this morning to have blood drawn to make sure we (still) don’t have HIV or Hepatitis B.

As the lady readies the needle, she says “I see this is for an adoption?” And I am eager to make conversation so I can focus on something that isn’t a vein.

“Yep. We adopted a girl in 2010 and we’re working on a little sister.”

She asked if we have to do everything again.

“Pretty much. It’s not faster, not cheaper, not easier.”

We had asked our social worker in the fall if when it came time for the medicals for the dossier if it would be okay for the doctor to reference our 2010 lab work and she said it would. (We also thought we wouldn’t need the medicals until we were compiling the dossier, but no, they want those for the home study, too.)

We went to the doc the last week of December and sent in our forms to the agency. A week later, a supervisor has looked them over and said we need current labs.

I have vented to Jaimie that this drives me crazy. Tell me once everything that I will need to do. I will get it done. Don’t tell me one thing at a time, dragging this process into forever.

And Jaimie was like “you don’t have to worry; it will happen, y’know.”

Yeah.

But.

I don’t look forward to leaving my kids for two weeks again. For whatever setback we will have with Zoe. For going into debt. For the uncertainty the future brings.

But I’m already committed.

"[Adoption] takes a commitment to a child, whether you know who that child is today, or you don't. The commitment is unbelievably important."

— Thomas DiFilipo, Joint Council on International Children's Services, via USA Today

We are incomplete. We feel like our second daughter is already born. And that weighs.

So I want to see the process moving, not stalled. I felt this way last time, too.

Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.

— Philippians 4:6

Belated

2012-01-11T14:08:00.000-06:00

Cash likes for me to roll Playdoh into a ball for him. He smashes it and brings the smushed mass back to me to roll into a ball again.

Ben took some, flattened it out and proceeded to press one foot of many of his different dinosaurs into the ‘doh. He then showed me that “none of them are belated.”

Zoe has taken to telling me “you’re the best mommy ever! (Or “...in the whole wide world!” The inflection suggests she is quoting something but I’m not sure what.)

I respond with “and you’re the best Zoe ever!”

This got us on the topic of there being other Zoes and I mentioned “hey, there’s even another Zoe from China who has been to the Moxie!”

Which my Zoe would not let go until I logged in to Facebook to show her a photo of this other Zoe.

When the kids look at photos on the computer, I now pull up a photoset of one of them and choose the slideshow option.

Last week, Ben wanted to see pics of him when he still wore diapers. Last night, I chose the most recent set. I thought it was cute that when a photo of him with Carol and Eric came up, he kissed his finger and then placed it on Carol. Aww...

I let Cash have a turn (“there’s my Monk!”) until he got wily and then it was back to Zoe.

She pointed to the “Waiting for Zoe” set and wanted to look at her Chinese name. But then she sort of looked like “this is not what I wanted” so I asked “how about more recent photos?” and began with the “5 years” set.

Zoe and Ben both know I am working on books for them. It won’t take long to finish Zoe’s, but I want Ben’s to end with his 5th birthday in March.

“Is it mine?” Zoe wants to know. Yes, but Mommy gets to keep it on a shelf until you are bigger.

Focus on these things

2012-01-09T15:36:00.000-06:00

So, the Gadsden Times has been sold and I no longer work for the New York Times. Instead, I'm employed by a company called Halifax. My coworkers and I have lots of questions about what this means for the future but no answers yet.

My grandmother is supposed to leave for Florida this week and leave her dog with us. Which I don't look forward to.

The never-ending home study Volume II is killing my psyche with the thousand-paper-cut method.

So let's not think of any of that and instead focus on these sweet faces!

Ben is blurry but still cute wearing the hoodie Kris' dad left at our house last week. (When he kept Cash of the Strep Throat while I had a root canal, because the grands are awesome!)

Hey, look who isn't in a cast anymore! (And also had a haircut!)

Zoe had another trim, too. Is she not adorable in the swingy-bob look?

When I am stressed out, I either lose my appetite or my mind becomes consumed by pop culture.

I am still eating with vigor but not falling asleep well at night because I keep replaying storylines in my head.

It's like, "hey, brain! yes, it's awesome that Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling had great chemistry in Crazy, Stupid, Love, but I should be sleeping instead of trying to figure out how the scene went when they woke up from their PG-13 night."

Does anybody else do that with characters? Try to figure out how the scene/dialogue would go in the big moments we weren't privy to? This can't just be me.

Preschool photography: holiday edition

2012-01-05T15:55:00.000-06:00

Zoe capturing the post-Christmas magic of checking out the new toys and games.

By Zoe, the foodie photog.

Zoe taking a photo of Kris' dad taking a photo.

I said "hey, Ben, take one of us!" I love how the angle and the straws make us look like we are hard-partying.

I don't know if Kris' Paw Paw was posing for Ben or if he was like "yikes, when can I get out of here?"

One could say Cash just pushed the button and the camera was facing this chair. But it was the chair Cash sat in, so I'm sayin' it was on purpose.

Zoe taking a photo of me working on uploading photos to Flickr. Meta!

I think I told Zoe "go take a picture of Cash" (quite possibly to get her out of my hair as I tagged the photos in the image above). I think she got a good shot!

More preschool photography here and here.

A new year of doctor's visits

2012-01-03T20:48:00.000-06:00

2pm Monday: an appointment with my dentist to assess a tooth that had become sensitive to hot and cold.

3:45pm Monday: my dentist sent me to another doc to see if I need a root canal. I do.

I was offered an appointment time Tuesday afternoon, but...

1:30pm Tuesday: Cash's appointment at Gadsden Orthopedics to remove his cast.

"Do you have anything Wednesday instead? My son is getting a cast taken off and his grandmother is planning to take him, but I'd like to be available if necessary."

Dad and Patsy kept the kids today (the daycare FINALLY REOPENS tomorrow), and they let them come up to the water tower to spend the night last night.

When we dropped Cash off, he was feverish.

During the day, fever progressed, chills ensued, stomach was hurting.

3:45pm Tuesday: Cash to the pediatrician. He has strep.

9:30am Wednesday: Mommy's getting a root canal. Kris' dad called in to see if he can keep Cash home from school the day it FINALLY REOPENS.

Man, I should have taken the Tuesday appointment after all!

The great-grands

2012-01-02T10:54:00.000-06:00

My grandmother is moving to Florida. Her son Doug is in town, boxing up the house. Sometime in January, she’ll be sunshine state-bound.

I’m glad that GJ will be close to her son. I will miss her. In many ways, I feel like I have already lost her. Her mind has slipped alarmingly in the last months.

Boxing up leftovers will always remind me of GJ. The kids, too. Cash was in the kitchen at Kris’ parents and saw a container of food. “GJ’s?” he asked. (It was for a different great-grand: Kris’ Paw Paw.)

We took the kids by to visit GJ last week. Even though she can’t hear very well (so she never knows what they’re saying) and repeats herself often, there are still glimmers of the grandmother I treasured.

Zoe got a pair of fuzzy boots for Christmas. She wore them everywhere for two days straight. She showed them to GJ proudly. And GJ exclaimed “what pretty boots!”

She always knew the right thing to say in moments like that.

Cash went over to her and laid his head on her knee.

I wandered through her house, saw some small items that reminded me of childhood and asked if I could take them with me. A little jeweled box that she used to let me keep in my room. A jewelry box of mom’s things.

I think it’s special that over the holiday break, we managed a chance for the kids to see all of their great-grands.

Paw Paw Catoe was at Christmas at Kris’ parents. When Cash looks at photos from that evening, he says “that’s my Paw Paw.”

We took them to see Jack and Juanita one morning. It pleases my grandfather so when they say “Jack!” Juanita warmed up some of the leftover Christmas ham and delighted when Cash kept wandering into the kitchen to ask “more chicken!”

On Friday, we drove to Fultondale to see Paw Paw and Maw Maw Watts.

The wee ones are too small to realize that what their grands are to them, these folks with the white hair mean the same to Kris and I. But we know. How sweet it is to see our children enjoying the same things we did, under the same hands.

Favorite Photos 2011

2011-12-30T06:56:00.000-06:00

I'm going with eleven photos for 2011: a favorite of Ben, Cash and Zoe. A favorite from the "senior portrait" shoot with Chrystal and the maternity set with Kristie. Then black and white, self-portrait, flora, fauna, still life and single photo as metaphor for larger experience. (Candid and signage got nixed this year.)

Favorite photos of 2010
Favorite photos of 2009

1. Favorite shot of Ben:

It's really hard to pick only ONE of each kid, as I take hundreds of each of 'em over the course of a year. But I love this shot of Ben because of these key elements: he has on a dinosaur shirt, he's being goofy and the location. We were at Dad and Patsy's house and Ben disappeared inside, only to emerge a moment later up on the deck. So Ben. Artistically, I like all the lines.

2. Favorite shot of Cash:

Sporting a cast is so Cash. We had just gone outside to watch a train pass the Moxie. I think his eyes say he's proud to have a green arm and be skipping school.

3. Favorite shot of Zoe:

Zoe loves pink, dresses and watermelon. This was taken when she'd been home about six months, on a walk while we were visiting a set of her grandparents.

4. Favorite shot from Chrystal's senior portrait shoot:

I love the lines, the pop of her blue eyes and the yellow flower. And the one blue-polished toenail peeking through the well-worn Toms.

5. Favorite shot from Kristie's maternity shoot:

6. Favorite black and white conversion:

Anna Ruth old enough to hold her head up... personality emerging.

7. Favorite self-portrait:

My reflection in the bumper of my father-in-law's work truck, after walking around getting to know my new pursecam.

8. Favorite flora:

9. Favorite fauna:

10. Favorite still life:

I took a picture of these to commemorate Zoe's beloved flops.

11. Favorite single photo as metaphor for larger experience:

What says 2011 like us trying to wrangle, enjoy, unite and delight in three children?

Post-placement

2011-12-29T18:58:00.000-06:00

Zoe had her one-year (and final) post-placement meeting today. A social worker came by before lunch, beheld the crazy that is our kiddos on Christmas vacation and asked us questions about Zoe's sleeping, eating, adjustment, attachment, language skills, family skills and more.

First adoption: in the bag.

Second adoption: Kris and I had our medical appointment and the cats got their rabies vaccination. Let's get this home study update completed already!

Wily Cash

2011-12-28T17:51:00.000-06:00

Something we've noticed since Cash has been in the cast is that he's much more wily. We suppose that all the energy he put into sucking his fingers had to be redirected now that he cannot get those fingers to his mouth.

He talks more and gets into things more.

"Come chase me!" is his new favorite phrase. He wants somebody to run after him through the kitchen and hall.

His new favorite toy is his dinosaur train. I love to hear him sing the theme song. "Ride, ride, riiiiiide, the dino-saur-train."

Post-Christmas

2011-12-27T16:16:00.000-06:00

I'm taking the ornaments off the tree in mad hopes that if we declare Christmas is over that the kids will settle back down.

We took them to visit Jack and Juanita today. Cash had a blow out that managed to get poop on every item of clothing he was wearing. We put his cast-arm in a WalMart bag and hosed him down in the shower while Ben and Zoe nonchalantly ate ice cream cones in the living room.

That's enough adventure for one day, right?

Merry Christmas

2011-12-25T15:26:00.000-06:00

The kids are stirring from their naps. Soon it will be time to head over to the water tower for Christmas with Dad and Patsy. Tomorrow, Christmas at Kris' parents.

The living room is strewn with bits of wrapping paper, plastic toys and hardback books.

The kitchen counters are covered in freshly baked cookies.

It's very festive.

Merry, merry Christmas.

The Family Christmas card

2011-12-22T18:45:00.000-06:00

It was so easy to be roped into the tradition of the Christmas photo card of the kids.

From my November 2007 blog archives:

A holiday card is not something I had considered doing, but I bet Walgreens (where I have been getting prints of Ben for the grands and great-grands) makes it super easy and cost-effective. Great, now I'm gonna be doing a holiday card.

One year in and I was hooked. It's fun to pic a holiday shirt, take pics and choose a design that will be displayed on the fridges of friends and family.

December 2008:

As a graphic artist, it feels like a cop-out to use the pre-made Christmas card designs from Walgreens. But as a practical person, they are cheap, easy and not at all horrible. I would rather have a Walgreen Christmas card in hand to give to my grandmothers for their refrigerators than a Laura Catoe original languishing on my desktop because it’s not yet “perfect.”

In the area where you type your own message? I went with “May your 2009 be full of blessings.” My hidden meaning to myself was that Kris and I were trying to conceive. And God’s hidden joke to me was that I was pregnant with Cash but didn’t know yet.

The following year, Ben was at the peak of his photo shoot disdain, so I used a candid of him. Cash was about three months old, able to hold his head up over his daddy’s shoulder. I also included a photo of their Christmas pajamas side by side. Ben’s was so much bigger!

Alongside the photos, I typed in the lyrics for the Family song by The Laurie Berkner Band. Noggin played all the time at our house, but I also used it because we had begun our first adoption home study.

“Even if you’re far away
Or if I see you everyday
When you’re in my heart to stay
You’re my family”

Far away, we did have a daughter. She was in our hearts though we had yet to see her face.

As Christmas approached last year, Kris and I were in the final countdown to go get Zoe. She wasn’t legally ours yet, but we so had three kids and couldn’t put just two of them on the holiday card, y’know?

Enter Love Without Boundaries. Their foster care team happened to be Anhui province that fall, checking on the kids in their program. While they were there, they also visited the orphanages and captured some photos of the white-haired girl in Huainan.

Turned out to be funny that our in-China guide in Anhui province had chosen the American name “Joy.”

This year, it felt appropriate to include the whole family on the card. Us parents, too.

When I found this design on Snapfish? Sold.

Believe in the miracle... a little sister in next year’s edition?

Three-day SAHM

2011-12-21T19:30:00.000-06:00

I am a stay-at-home-mom for three days. The daycare is closed; Kris is working this week. (Clients need Moxie for Christmas!)

What will I do with my children for three days at home?

Patti came to my rescue today. She and the girls came over for a playdate.

"What a rainy day," I said.

"Too rainy to play outside," Zoe quoted from the kitchen.

And my wheels began turning.

Rainy day + the gals who gave Pinkalicious to Zoe... could I manage pink cupcakes for our playdate?

I had planned on experimenting with muffin mix to make pink cupcakes for Zoe's birthday next year, so I had two packages of Martha White Strawberry Cheesecake muffin mix, a single serve container of strawberry applesauce and some red food coloring.

But I planned to use cream cheese icing and I didn't have any of that. "How does one make homemade icing?" I asked Google.

With two cups of powdered sugar, a stick of butter and a tablespoon of milk! (Dash of food coloring to render it pink.)

I even had a half-used container of pink sprinkles (which surely have no expiration date, right?).

During the playdate, the kids took turns with costumes and played Christmas bingo. What a shame to set the bar so high for this SAHM gig.

The rainy morning gave way to a warm and sunny afternoon. Kris had a client cancellation and was home by 3pm. We walked to a creek and flung rocks in.

I suggested we take them to Christmas at the Falls. They loved it when the grands took them a week ago.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

K2-3-4 Christmas

2011-12-20T11:11:00.000-06:00

The mission? Manage to visit each kid's Christmas party, take a picture or two and leave without anyone in tears.

I started with Ben's class because he knew I would be there. K4 had the biggest blowout (perhaps because it is their final year?)... snacks, cake, their book swap and each had a table-top mini-tree to decorate.

Next up, K2.

"My Mommy!" Cash was happy to point me out to his friends.

I pointed out that his cupcake, juice box and napkin all matched his cast. I helped him eat his cupcake and then told him I needed to go check on Zoe's party.

Then I made the rounds again.

And nobody cried when I left!

Bedlam in Bethlehem

2011-12-19T09:27:00.000-06:00

Kristie organized a Christmas program for the kids at church. Aside from something called "Breakfast in Bethlehem" that the daycare does every year (it involves a manger and biscuits is all I know since I have never made it to one), this was a first for the Catoe crew.

Saturday night, there was a dress rehearsal (and pizza party with gingerbread cookie decorating and ornament making).

For this production, Zoe was Mary. She got to hold the baby Jesus. Ben was a sheep with curly horns. Cash was a dove.

We had warned Kristie that we felt Zoe might punk out. Fundamentally, she did not "get" what was going on. And when she's unsure, she acts out. Masking uncertainty with what seems like random child misbehavior.

But rehearsal went pretty well. I took my camera to see if the pop-up flash would suffice. It did not.

So Sunday morning, I charged the batteries for the bounce flash. Mamarazzi in full force. (But Nola was, too!)

Cash was such a fuss-bucket that the dove didn't even go near the stage. And he swiped Zoe's pre-program cookie, setting her off in tears moments before they took to the stage.

Zoe had asked where I would be during the program and I explained I would be right in front of the stage, taking pictures. But the house lights were turned off for dramatic effect and the sounds of the crowd were loud.

With the bright light, Zoe couldn't see me. And the noise was too loud for her to hear me. She began to cry. Not the punking out I had expected, but a pitiful "I don't know where Mommy is" cry.

I set down the camera and climbed onstage. Zoe was fine once I was there. But then Ben had a supreme excuse to be silly. He climbed in my lap. Picked his nose. Pulled his sheep hat off and place it on my head. Zoe handed me the baby Jesus. Ben took the baby Jesus. Priscilla handed me a sheet of lyrics.

It was bonkers.

But as Kris tucked Zoe in last night, she told him being in the program was her favorite part of the day.

The gingerbread crew

2011-12-16T16:06:00.000-06:00

Have I mentioned the downside of having Ben, Zoe and Cash split into K4, K3 and K2 is that sometimes, one class has a better take-home craft (or possibly fellow classmate birthday loot)?

Zoe flew out of the class to get ahold of Ben's gingerbread house. He clamored after, ready to start pulling candy from it.

"Wait!"

I had a ready excuse for why Ben couldn't hold his house on the way home (which would have surely led to disaster and/or an upset sister)...

"I'm going to carry it and take a picture when we get home. Then all three of you can eat it. It's too much sugar before dinner unless you share it."

Whew. They bought it.

Merry mix-making

2011-12-14T15:59:00.000-06:00

I am astounded by the number of mix cds I have made this year. It’s a staggering number... like 5.

Which... by most normal measurements, isn’t much. But for a mom of three small children who has crazy rules about mix cd-making, 5 is many.

It started off slow, in late spring, with a Glee mix once season two wrapped. All I had to do for that one was scroll through the songs and pick which ones I wanted and then decide on an order. No biggie.

But in late summer, I wanted to make a True Blood mix. Because I already owned the theme song and I had this Ollabelle track that I dig and yet have never found anywhere to put it.

Part of my OCD mix-making is that there must be a theme. A song cannot go on any ol’ mix. It must fit. Thematically or sonically or whatnot.

“Get Back Temptation” is perfect for a True Blood mix. So I searched for track listings from old episodes, listened to music clips and culled from other sources.

"40 dogs" has not been featured on True Blood. But it sounds like a song that would play in Merlotte’s and the song makes me think of Sam. (Who has been known to turn into a dog.)

“Just Say Yes” is a song I love that began to make me melancholy once I realized it made me remember being in love for the first time. But if I listen to the words with Sookie and Amnesiac Eric in mind, it’s perfect.

KT Tunstall has a song called "Glamour Puss," which is so apt for Pam.

The thing about enjoying a mix cd is that it makes me want more of them.

From her guest turns on Glee, I knew Gwyneth Paltrow had starred in a movie about a country singer, so I Netflixed it. And then decided it had been too many years since I made a country mix.

Hey, did you know Taylor Swift has a song called "Tim McGraw?" And that Tim McGraw played the husband role in the Gwyneth Paltrow movie? Mix cd synergy!

I needed a tune to add balance. I prefer an even number of songs. (O.C.D.) And for them to alternate between gal or guy-fronted vocals. A duo will suffice.

Like The Civil Wars.

When we hit the road to the beach for a family vacation, I made a mix with kid-themed songs that Kris and I don’t mind. Such as the Ting Tings and the Killers on Yo Gabba Gabba. Or They Might Be Giants singing about being a paleontologist. (The only song Ben asks me to play it again.)

Could I be so bold as to make a Christmas mix this year? Of all mixes, I have the most rules for a Christmas mix.

It must not make me sad. It must have familiar Christmas songs and ones unfamiliar.

Forces wanted me to make this mix. The Civil Wars had a holiday freebie on iTunes. Glee made another Christmas album. And so did TobyMac.

TobyMac reminds me of Veronica Mars and one song features Owl City which reminds me of Cash’s baby days.

So while I’m sure the techno-vibe of this version of The First Noel would make some roll their eyes, I’m digging it.

Cash cast

2011-12-13T16:30:00.000-06:00

Cash, I am not surprised that you're the first one to need a cast. I did, however, think you'd make it past 2 years old before such a need.

Hey, 'member that time Cash was in a cast for three weeks?

This is due to his tendency to fling himself to the ground rather than do what he's told. Yesterday, when it was time to go back to class from the gym, Cash did not want to. So he hurled himself to the ground. I think the teacher was still holding his hand. And, wrist injured in the process.

The doc mentioned a "growth plate" and asked if Cash could be trusted to keep on a sling-type thing that is removable. I said that was doubtful. Cast it is!

The ladies who put on the cast asked him what color he wanted. He asked for purple. (Perhaps he is keen to celebrate Advent.) I don't know if they had purple or not. Cash didn't care once they brought out a box of Dum Dums and told him he could have as many as he wanted.

He devoured at least five and I suggested a green cast. Festive, huh?

After the doc, he wanted to go show Daddy his green arm. While we were there, a train went by.

There were also cupcakes, but don't tell B and Z that, okay?

On the way home, he asked to go to a playground. It's a warm December day. Why not?

He's watching Diego now. Hopefully, after not sleeping last night (he couldn't get his fingers in his mouth and his arm hurt when he moved) and no nap today, he will rest well tonight!

Date night, family night

2011-12-12T16:34:00.000-06:00

Friday night was date night. Kris and I went to Villa Fiesta for dinner, and I watched a family with three kids sit in a booth near us.

“Look how close in age their kids are,” I pointed out.

We also ask for a booth when we go to Villa because we find it easier to contain the kids.

After dinner, it was not quite time to attend the art opening at the Walnut Gallery, so I asked Kris if he would mind trekking back to the Moxie to cut my hair. (Moxification in three parts: he did the eyebrows and roots the week before.)

Along the way, I pulled over to take a photo of the odometer on all eights.

At the Moxie, I told Kris “it’s not that this is bad hair. But I feel like I look like I’m in my mid-30s and have three kids. I want people to be surprised when they hear how many kids I have.”

He trimmed it and flat-ironed it for me, then we hit “Requiem.”

With “Requiem” (which means a mass for the dead), Sears seeks to create feelings “of loss, respect and love.”

“As you enter,” he said, “it will be as if you’re coming to a viewing. These 13 are gathered to pay tribute to someone beloved and adored. The (identity of the) musicians and the lost one don’t matter — it’s the gift of passion.”

I knew when I wrote the preview story that I wanted to attend the opening. Thankfully, it coincided with an evening Dad and Patsy were picking up the kids.

I saw several faces that I know from putting together Gadsden Style, such as Nanda Patel. She asked if I saw East/West (a show of hers) and I explained that I rarely make it to shows these days as I have three small children.

When she told me I didn’t look like I have three children, I told her that is exactly what I had tasked my husband with and explained that he owns a salon.

While Dennis Sears gave his talk, I looked across the room and saw Tabitha and Jason Bozeman. I sought them out later to tell them that seeing them only added to the feeling that we were all at a viewing.

I met Tabitha in the late 90s at the Pickles’ house but I have rarely seen her since. And Bozeman and I attended the same high school but we were not in the same grade, so we didn’t really know one another.

As we spoke, he was like “wait – Bentley?”

“That’s me!”

He said I look so different. Which, he was being complimentary (it’s the hair, I tell ya). But it’s another sign of how I’m aging. I used to always look the same. 7th grade to senior year... same, same, same. Now, I do look different.

I told him how strange it is that I sat with one of his students one day and she was talking about “Bozeman.” Y’see, “Bozeman” is supposed to be the nickname for the Junior classman. Not the drama teacher at GCHS.

Age, age, age.

Sunday afternoon was disrupted by a last-minute dinner that Kris’ dad had to attend. The kids were like “but where are we going after nap?”

“How about we go to a restaurant? We didn’t make dinner plans for tonight.”

Ben suggested “the place with the cactus.”

Villa is closest, so we ended up there again. This time, we were the family of five crammed in a booth.

Zoe likes the salsa. She can eat a whole bowl.

Ben still likes guacamole.

Cash enjoys sharing a plate with Kris or I.

When we got home, I was going to make gingerbread cookies. (Sort of a tradition.) But Ben wanted me to play a game with him, so Kris made the cookies.

Zoe has been a little off lately. I don’t know if it’s subconsciously because the one-year mark of her adoption is approaching or because of Even Start. (The school system has her coming for a three-hour segment on Mondays to work with her to make sure she’s ready to begin kindergarten next year.)

I blew up at her once and then distanced myself by retreating to the laundry to fold while I steamed.

Later, she sought me out at the computer. Wanted to know if she could help me.

“Nah, I’m just shutting it down. It’s time to go get ready for bed.”

I let her unplug a cable once the computer was off. I tried to explain what I was doing.

“I’m working on a book about Zoe. This has been your first year home. Remember all the firsts? Your first time at the Moxie, first parties, school... your first Christmas is coming up.”

Zoe began asking a lot of questions and one she had was “when does Christmas start?”

Good question, kid.

Christmas is not just one day anymore.

She’s been to the Christmas parade. She knows her red shirt is her “Christmas shirt.” I’ve told her there’s a party (and a program) at church. And there was a program (and there will be a party) at school. There will be presents at our house on Christmas morning. And presents at her grands later.

“Christmas is just one day, but it’s something that’s so important, everybody wants to celebrate it with you.”

That was my best effort. I asked if she had more questions.

“When does Christmas start?”

“Y’know what? We’ll talk tomorrow. Let’s go find pajamas.”

Give up guessing where life is gonna go

2011-12-09T16:04:00.000-06:00

For the requisite "Baby's 1st Christmas" ornament, I found Ben a Lenox Rudolph on Amazon.

So the next year, I got a Lenox catalog in the mail. It was our first Christmas in our new home. And I liked the idea of buying Ben an ornament every year.

In 2009, I hit the Hallmark store to commemorate Cash's 1st Christmas and choose an ornament for Ben and the family.

But last year's visit to the Hallmark store stressed me out. I chose a snowflake ornament for Zoe, a little drummer boy for Ben, a handprint/frame thing for Cash and a little frame for the family that said "Together is a wonderful place to be."

It's pricey to buy four ornaments at full price. And when I got them home? Ben and Zoe's were broken. December was a whirlwind and I didn't get to find alternates.

But when the tree went up this year, I find that 2010 figured out how to commemorate itself.

The whole family came to meet us at the airport on December 31. I cut the photo as best I could, but the grandmothers still get squished on the edges.

The hotel in Guangzhou had this little stocking on the bed when we checked in with Zoe on Christmas Eve.

At the shops on Shamian Island, I got this Year of the Tiger trinket for Ben since he likes animals. (But he was so pleased with his airport okapi, he didn't want this.) Makes a fine ornament.

And then when I went to Books-a-Million after Christmas to pick up some wall calendars, their selection of Hallmark ornaments was half off. How could I not get this little airplane for Cash for the year his parentals took one to China?

This year, the Hallmark store is closed. But I'm not even looking until after Christmas. There will either be a great sale somewhere or the perfect thing will just happen along.

I'm giving up guessing where life is gonna go.

Present nostalgia

2011-12-08T11:39:00.000-06:00

...women told you to enjoy early childhood because it will pass so quickly, and you wanted to kick them in the shins, they were right. It is over in a nanosecond... (Jen Hatmaker)

Last year, I read an article about creating a sense of “present nostalgia.” I sometimes remember to try this.

On any given day, we deal with so much whining, ungratefulness and bad attitudes that it’s hard to perceive this age as precious.

Except, I know it is. I know there is preciousness amidst the insanity. I just have to look for it.

Ben held my hand on the way to the Christmas parade. When we got home, he wanted to go upstairs and “help Daddy” with the bathroom floor while Cash and Zoe watched Diego and Caillou.

He asked “will you play with me?”

He wanted to play “stable.” He’d turned his castle into a stable for a rhinoceraus and triceratops. He also wanted to sit on the kitchen floor and discuss the ways in which these animals were similar and the ways that they are different.

Ben can poop all by himself, but he would still prefer if Kris or I pull up a stool and sit with him talking about animals while he does his business.

As I put Zoe to bed last night, we talked about shoes. They are a source of both delight and security for her. She mentioned a pair she has outgrown and that she doesn’t want to keep growing.

“You don’t grow forever. You’ll get to be what we call ‘grown up’ and then it stops. Like, Mommy is full grown. I’m not getting any bigger.”

We talked of this for a moment and when I explained that even when Zoe is all grown up, maybe even a Mommy herself, that she will still be my daughter. Always.

And her face exploded into a grin. She hides such faces quickly, as if maybe such unbridled joy could be taken from her.

But I think someday it won’t be as such. That eventually she will safe enough to feel absolute joy with abandon, no fear that it is fleeting or to be taken from her.

Cash is going through a phase where he wails if I won’t carry him. (When Ben was the age Cash is now, I was eight months pregnant. I physically could not carry him around as much as I still do Cash.)

“I need Mommy, I need Mommy,” Cash will cry desperately.

They do. They all need me. And it is such a visceral need at times that it simply overwhelms me.

But it can be so, so precious.

Cash likes to play with my eyelashes. He will be in bed next to me and it is not enough that he can feel me. I open my eyes and he exhales happily. “Mommy...”

I’m sure the trick of it is that as they grow and need me less that I won’t revel in my re-found freedom but mourn the loss of their tender hands reaching for me.

Perhaps I can keep practicing my present nostalgia, so that I may appreciate each stage of life as it unfolds.

Christmas This Year

2011-12-07T14:24:00.000-06:00

Some of Kris’ clients make conversation by asking what the kids want for Christmas.

“Oh, we don’t let them know they can ask,” he says.

People are dumbfounded. Whaaat?

True, we don’t ask them what they want for Christmas. And we haven't told them about Santa. (We haven't said "there is no Santa." We just don't bring him up.)

I should tell Kris to answer the question as if the person asked what the kids like.

"What do your kids want for Christmas?" And he could say "Ben likes dinosaurs, Zoe likes pink and princesses and Cash likes things with wheels."

Because when I say stuff like "yeah, we don't do Santa" or Kris tells somebody that "we don't let them know they can ask" for stuff for Christmas, it sounds so harsh. Which is not us.

We DELIGHT in giving our kids stuff. They ask for stuff all the time. “Put that on the grocery list” and “look for one at the store” are regular refrains at our house.

Zoe wants a popsicle for dessert. I say “We don’t have any. But I’ll put that on the list.”

Ben wants a pair of footed pajamas like Cash. I say “I will look for some for you.”

Also, our kids are still pretty little and/or newly American.

Zoe has never done Christmas before. This is all a first for her.

Cash was a blob in December 2009 and last year? Mommy and Daddy were in China for Christmas.

That leaves Ben.

Sunday evening, when Kris and I returned to his parents' place after running errands, I flopped down on the bean bag next to Ben. “Hey, guess what we did today?”

“What?”

“We bought Christmas presents!”

He wanted to know if his presents include dinosaurs. I smiled. “Probably.”

He wanted to know if they were under the tree.

“No, not yet. Here’s the thing: I don’t trust Cash not to open them. So they aren’t going to be under the tree until closer to Christmas.”

He asked me to wrap just one that they could go ahead and open.

“Nope. But I did find footed pajamas for you. How about I give those to you tonight and you can wear them already?”

He was pleased.

“It was really awesome about the pajamas. See, I looked at three different stores. The first didn’t have any. The second had some but they were fleece and you said you didn’t want that. The third store had a pair but they were also fleece. I was bummed. I stood at the rack with the non-fleecy ones and said ‘God, I need this kind for Ben!’ Then I looked and saw a pair in your size. With dinosaurs on them.”

Which is true. I looked at that rack first and scanned the hangers for a 5T tag. There were none. On a different rack, I found the fleecy pair. But Ben actually sleeps under the covers and Kris and I both thought he’d get hot in fleece. And those PJs had a monkey on them, which is really more Cash’s thing.

So I’d gone back to the first rack to bemoan that there were no more 5Ts. And just after I got God in on it, I looked to see that there was one hanger close to me and I could see the size inside the cloth. 5T. It was just on the wrong hanger.

I want my kids to know stuff like that. That not only does Mommy care that you want a pair of footed PJs, God knows you didn’t want the fleecy kind, either.

We didn’t exactly budget for this Christmas, but we came back from the beach with some money left over. (The plus side of kids so little – all the stuff they wanted to do on vacation was free.) That became our spending money for presents for the kids.

Online, I chose a game for Ben and Zoe’s Leapsters. (Dinosaurs for Ben, Princesses for Zoe.) Since Cash does not have a game system, he gets a new DVD (Cars 2).

At TJ Maxx, I got a couple of toys. The kids love to craft, so the twins each get a stamp pad. Cash is a bit young for that, so he gets a puzzle set that is the same size.

Zoe gets an apparatus for the Littlest Pet Shop set she got for her birthday. It’s pink and has cubbies and moving parts. We’ll see if she digs it. I lamented to Kris that I don’t know what Zoe likes.

“I mean, I know she’d love an iPad. But I just can’t swing that.”

Cash gets a train thingy. It has chutes and stuff. Should work with his toy cars and such.

Ben gets a castle-themed PlayMobil set. Knights, swords, etc. (We also have a new-to-us castle that has yet to be unveiled. We thought maybe it could just be sitting out around Christmastime.)

Lastly, we went to Books-A-Million and chose each kid a book. (I’m cheap in that I know I could have paid less if we purchased them online. But I also realize that we paid extra to get to pick them out in person. Peruse the aisles together and flip through the pages and read the stories until we felt we had the perfect ones.)

And that was the gift to us. Cash in hand to find toys for our kids.

There are no items on my wish list.

Part of that is because I’m an adult and if I want something, I can buy it for myself.

But another part is that I have come to appreciate the gifts that come my way.

Like the rain jacket I found at the thrift store. It’s well made and my size and was less than $10.

Or a good weather day. Like Monday evening being so warm, it was easy-peasy to take the kids to the Christmas parade.

Unexpected free time, date nights, television shows that make you laugh, books and blogs that make you think... these are all gifts. And you don’t know when you’ll get them, but know that you will.

Of Christmas Parades and Tile Floors

2011-12-06T13:16:00.000-06:00

Trapped in traffic trying to fight our way to a parking space for the Christmas parade, we attempted to explain the endeavor to the kids.

Ben wanted to “do something fun” after school. I said “how about we go to the Christmas parade?”

Zoe kept calling it the zombie parade. (Which is the only other parade she’s ever been to, so that does make sense.)

We promised Cash that there would be big trucks.

“What else?”

“Um, marching bands. Floats.”

The concept of a parade float is a bit hard to explain. (Perhaps especially so while trying to navigate parade traffic.) “You know what? It will make sense when you see it.”

“Do we need our candy buckets?”

“No.”

The kids seemed kind of stoked to be doing this parade thing. Kris and I thought it was sweet to be going for the first time as a family. (In previous years, I didn’t think the boys were old enough to enjoy it and make venturing out in the cold on a work night worth it. And truth be told? If yesterday hadn’t been unseasonably warm, I probably wouldn’t have suggested we attend the parade this year, either.)

Ben got bored with the parade first. Zoe couldn’t really see what was going on. So I left Cash atop Kris’ shoulders (because he at least was enjoying all the big trucks) and took the twins to the church for the annual hot chocolate giveaway.

They wouldn’t wait for it to cool off, so they burned their tongues. I found ice. When I said “let’s go back to Cash and Daddy,” Ben balked. I reminded him that we had to stick together and that he promised to listen.

On the way out the door, I spotted my dad, so Ben got to stay at the church and I took Zoe back to the parade. Kris and I swapped off and I put Cash on my shoulders. The family in front of us scooted over to make room for Zoe to stand on the street and see better.

I could tell she was still at a loss. Like, what are we doing? What’s going on?

Just then, a girl came by tossing out candy. She ran out right as she reached us, but her final handful landed at the feet of the family in front of us and that mom made sure each kid had at least one piece – including Zoe.

So now Zoe had a prize (a Dum Dum sucker)... one her brothers did not! Things were looking up!

I took Cash inside for hot chocolate and Kris put Zoe on his shoulders. The sucker + the special seating = parade magic. By the time I returned, Zoe was happily waving and yelling “Merry Christmas!”

Ben and Cash had a great time finding discarded screws and lumber in one of Dad’s work areas at the church.

Before we left, I wanted Dad to get a picture of all five of us. The kids were not in the mood, but I was like “hey, this is the first time we’ve done this as a family. Stand still!”

(We look insane, right?)

Kris recalled that there was a photo taken of us the year that I lived downtown and we walked to the parade. Aw, memories. (Funny enough, David Finlayson took this photo. He was there last night, too. Ben and Zoe pestered Katie about when she’s coming to our house again.)

The boys were less than happy to discover Zoe had a sucker. I wanted to be like “suck it up! She stayed at the parade! It’s parade-goer booty!”

But I happened to have a few Dum Dums in my purse, taken from a bowl at work expressly for the kids. And it shut the whining up quickly to promise the boys a sucker once we got to the van.

The suckers also proved the perfect excuse to leave them in the van while I stopped by KMart for new bathroom rugs. “Eat your suckers; I’ll be right back.”

While I was in line, I noticed the cashier’s name tag said “RAVEEN.”

“Hmm,” I thought. “That’s the name of the GCHS homecoming queen. I wonder if that’s her. Would it be weird to ask? Does she look too old to be in high school? Well, if she is, then it probably isn’t insulting to ask.”

“Hey, do you go to to Gadsden City High?”

She paused. “Yes.”

I am so good at making people think I’m crazy. I probably talked too fast trying to explain.

“I put your name in the paper! I interviewed... oh, I just forgot her name. She’s at ReMona’s LaDiva Boutique but that’s her middle name. She showed me the photo on her phone where she helped you pick the red dress? Back in the day, she wanted a dress and couldn’t afford it but bought some material and made a dress that she wore to prom. And since she helped you pick something out for school, I wanted that to be in the story. I contacted the school to make sure I had your name spelled right.”

I’m sure my fast rambling made me appear much less crazy, no?

Anyway, I told her to visit GadsdenTimes.com and search for herself.

“There was a dress I wanted from Ike Saks, and I hoped my grandmother would buy it for me,” she recalled. “But she said, ‘Janice, I just can’t.’ So I went to Alabama Fabric Store and got fabric and ribbon. I made a dress by hand and wore it to the junior prom.”

These days, Sherrell lends her hand to girls in need of a special outfit for their high school milestones.

Raveen Martin, Gadsden City High School’s homecoming queen, wore a red dress from Remona’s in the homecoming parade.

It was close to bedtime when we got the kids home, but we let them stay up late because Kris still had to get the grout off the tile.

Re-tiling the pink bathroom upstairs is something we wanted to do before we moved in, but we ran out of time and money. A corner of the linoleum was peeling up when we moved in.

A few months ago, Kris took out the carpet in the upstairs hall. So the entryway to the bathroom was a bit of a tripping hazard. Time to re-tile that floor.

All along, I wanted the black and white pinwheel pattern that we had at the duplex. We loved that floor and figured it would be just as appropriate in a 1950s pink bathroom as it was in a 1939 bathroom. So I wanted something like this:

Tile installed by Brandon Bratton. Photo from www.flickr.com/photos/terra_tile

Lowe’s had the pattern but in the wrong finish. Standard could order it for us but the price per square foot was too much. We found a different black and white pattern at Tile Liquidators.

(Trips to Tile Liquidators, Standard and Lowe’s was like re-living our landlord days.)

Kris’ dad came over to help and when they pulled up the linoleum? They found a pinwheel pattern beneath! Only, it was in pink and mauve. So, while we were right that pinwheel was appropriate, we’re still glad to go with black and white, because wow would pink walls and a pink floor be Too Much Pink.

I agree, but I have my limits!

The floor has been tiled and grouted. A couple spots need re-grouting and the haze must be cleaned off and then the floor needs sealing. (Hence no after pics yet.) But the kids already love it.

“I love the new floor,” says Ben.

“It’s so pretty,” says Zoe.

(Cash has yet to offer any input.)

I was worried that Kris lost the evening to work on the floor and that it would weigh on him that we went to the parade instead.

“I’m so glad we went,” he says. (Yay!)

The floor was a lot of work and it will still take awhile to finish. But we’ll love it. For years to come. That feels worth the investment.

Etsy for Christmas

2011-12-05T10:41:00.000-06:00

I read an article that encouraged Christmas shoppers not to forget artists and craftsmen, which always makes me think of Etsy.

Any time I have purchased a gift for someone on Etsy, I have enjoyed getting to support a fellow artist.

Here are some artists I know on Etsy:

Becca Gardner: www.etsy.com/shop/byBeccaG
T-shirts upcycled into headbands, bracelets, etc. (See Zoe's headband above.)

Dolly Franchi (and her daughter Christina): www.etsy.com/shop/considerthelillies
Hand-knit items like scarves, hats and more.

Mandy Parker: www.etsy.com/people/junkincoffeegirl
Not much in there right now, but sometimes it has Scott's paintings or a vintage find.

And though I don't know them personally, my last Etsy purchase was from CouchGuitarStraps. I love that they make guitar straps, camera straps, belts and such out of old vehicle (excuse me, vintage) upholstery. Too cool.

O Christmas Tree

2011-12-02T15:02:00.000-06:00

When we drove back from the beach on Sunday, we stopped by Kris' parents to visit and his mom had their Christmas tree up. Ben wanted to know if our tree would be up when we got home.

"No, Ben, our tree isn't up yet."

Kris had a lot to do on Monday (including taking Zoe to Even Start for half a day), but he called me and said he thought he'd have time to get the tree out of the basement and put on some ornaments.

As I drove the kids home from school, I told them our Christmas tree would be lit when we got there.

"I'll say 'surprise, Daddy!'" Zoe said enthusiastically.

Ben informed her that "you can't. Daddy put the tree up."

And I was like, "Ben, don't be a jerk."

Because sometimes Zoe says the wrong thing or doesn't quite know what is happening, but she has the idea. She knew that something special was going on, and I think her desire to yell "surprise, Daddy!" was just her way of wanting to include the whole family.

Technically, she saw several Christmas trees last year. But that is not the same as Ben marveling at them for five subsequent holiday seasons. He knows what's coming. Zoe doesn't, even if we tell her.

But she catches on quickly.

So quickly

2011-11-30T14:26:00.000-06:00

Eric took this photo in January when we came by the Times to fax info to add Zoe to our insurance

The adoption agency called this week to schedule Zoe's one year post-placement visit. It came as a shock, because my mind got lodged somewhere back in October.

Looking at this photo from January, I notice the shaggy hair. It has grown so much.

I notice how big her cheeks are. A baby face that has slimmed with her quick growth.

When Zoe came home, she 4 years and 3 months old. But in ways, she was younger.

She has not only grown in height and chronological age, but in social age, as well.

Not the big sister yet.

So the big sister.

She has learned not only a new language, but a new culture.

In China, it’s customary for kids to do the “V for Victory” when posing for a photo.

In America, we say “cheese” to cue the kids to smile.

This may seem silly, but I'm glad Zoe can still wear a 5T. When you venture out of the little kid department, the clothes change. They look more grown up. And while I don't care to dress Zoe like a baby, I have had her such a short time. She has grown so, so fast. She's not only growing in size but maturity and experience... an explosion of growth. That she can still wear a 5T is like an anchor to little kidville.

2011 is nearly over and in 2012, I have two littles who will start kindergarten. I'm not ready to have Big Kids.

Slow down. You are growing too fast.

Freedom of opinion

2011-11-28T16:37:00.000-06:00

When Zoe started the preschool at the beginning of 2011, she got to join the Twinkle Toes ballet class even though the "school year" was half over. She "danced" in the performance and LOVED her costume.

Dance does not meet during the summer, but when it began again in August, we enrolled her anew. The teacher is different this time.

Over the last couple of months, Zoe began to balk on Tuesday mornings when it was time to don her dance attire.

Like with the ear piercing, I want her to have the freedom to make her own mind: does she want pierced ears? Does she want to quit dance?

But I also want to make sure she fully understands what's she asking or what it entails. The piercing will hurt. No dance class means no costume in spring.

Pierced ears she has and dance class she has ceased.

Of course I marvel at big opportunities she has in life with a family. But the little ones make me happy, too. Like the freedom to have your own opinion and be heard.

Success

2011-11-26T19:45:00.001-06:00

Kris and I are calling this a successful vacation. One of my goals of the trip was to get a good picture of Zoe on the beach. But how does one get a good photo in a location so bright when the subject has photophobia? Hmm.

This morning, after a final swim in the pool, we hit the beach for a final castle-making session. The boys found it enjoyable to climb under the stairs that lead to the sand.

I downloaded the photos while the kids were napping. As I looked at them, I thought, "hmm, maybe I could position Zoe there..."

She woke up before the boys and Kris was watching the Iron Bowl, so I grabbed the camera, a key to the door and some flip-flops.

As we went through the "secret passage" as Zoe calls it, I explained that I have a good photo from Ben and Cash's first visits to the beach, and so I wanted one of Zoe, too.

I'd like it if my kids would let me take more shots. I might have tried some fill flash. But look! Yes, she's squinting. With photophobia, there will be squinting. But there is no hat, no pair of sunglasses, no obvious sun-sneer. Success!

Kris had less success with watching the Iron Bowl. Midway through it, the kids were jonesing to hit a playground and while I was game to try to take them solo, Kris felt guilty about that idea, I think.

I'm glad he came with, because while the park turned out to be "so cool" (per Ben), it was the kind where it would have been impossible to keep up with three at once.

Ben was so stoked, he asked for me to get out my camera. (Which I left at the condo because they were being ridiculous as we left and really, who has the desire to document that?)

But Kris' phone is a camera, too. Daddy saves the day.

Beachy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T13:40:00.000-06:00

The kids did surprisingly well on the drive down to Gulf Shores yesterday. They fussed and whined, of course, but we made good time and stopped only once for gas and once for a rest area picnic. We told them the more stops we had to make, it might be dark once we got to the beach.

Beach lure is pretty strong. We made it down before 4pm. They barely let us unlock the room before they were dragging us sandward.

This is Zoe's first trip to the shore. She liked finding shells more than getting her feet wet.

We made a room of sleeping bags for the kids and listening to them fight sleep reminded me of every slumber party I ever attended.

While Kris' parents did not get to come with us, thankfully Dad and Patsy did. This morning, the kids couldn't wait to hit the pool.

We Googled to find restaurants open on Thanksgiving and chose the Shrimp Basket.

Happy Thanksgiving, whatever your location or state of awakeness!

Gratitude

2011-11-22T12:55:00.000-06:00

I call this photo Keys of Gratitude.

I’ve enjoyed my Facebook friends using their status updates this month to reflect on things for which they are thankful. I have much I am thankful for. (Including the small things in life, like being able to end a sentence in a preposition because my days of writing term papers are over.)

This photo of my keys represents a lot of big things I’m thankful for: my husband (key to his truck), my kids (daycare fob), my home, my church, the Moxie.

I took the photo to commemorate the keychain that served me so well. That leather loop has been a staple of my set of keys since I was sixteen.

You guys, I’ve swung my keys around on it for more than half of my life. Can leather keychains be repaired somehow? I love that thing.

One by one, the cords holding it to the ring have broken. A single loop keeps it tethered. I unhooked it from the rest, because I don’t want to lose it.

The keychain was a birthday present from Patsy. It was apropos, because she took me to get my driver’s license. I was super eager to get my license and my parents wouldn’t have been able to take me in time for me to drive my friends to a birthday party.

Oh, the things of utmost import to teens.

And oh, the things that matter as the years go by and life unfolds.

It was hard to lose my mom. It was hard when my dad started dating. It was hard when he remarried. I thought it made it extra hard that Dad married somebody who had been a family friend for so long.

Then I had a conversation with a friend’s dad that caused me to have gratitude. His mom passed away and his dad remarried. But it was to a woman he had never met. So every time there’s a holiday or family trip, to him, there is a stranger in the midst, right by his dad’s side.

For me, there is not. I have known Patsy since I was a girl. Something I found awkward and painful turned out to be a blessing, as long as I looked at it with gratitude.

I am grateful that my dad is not alone. I am grateful that my children have two grandmothers.

I came across this sentiment today (on a private list, so I cannot link the source); it rings so true to me.

“To be able to give thanks in times of sorrow is one of those wisdoms of life that few can master. But those who can know in their hearts that gratitude is the surest way to peace.”

Thankfulness springs forth. Gratitude can take work.

Thankfulness is the risen sun. But gratitude is the whole day long.

A couple of Thanksgivings

2011-11-21T12:46:00.000-06:00

I told my grandmother that we wouldn’t be at her house for Thanksgiving but that we’d bring the kids by on the Saturday before. And she in turn called my dad and uncle and made the occasion into Real Thanksgiving. Turkey, trimmings, five desserts (why, woman, why?!?)...

But before that, we took them to the Moxie for pre-beach and holiday hair trimming. Kris used the flat iron on Zoe’s hair, making her feel fancy. (“Like Mommy?”) Ben turned the tree and fence in the back parking lot into “a playground” and Cash spotted a bulldozer three blocks away.

So while his brother got a trim, I walked Cash down to the bulldozer. There was a dump truck, too. Men were working on moving some railroad ties. And without fail, when the workers saw the little boy who had come to watch them, they each made their way over to speak to him.

Cash has an irresistible draw.

After lunch at my grandmother’s, the kids took a long nap to power up for Alex’s birthday party at the Imagination Place. Zoe was the token girl. But I notice that being such, Alex asked his aunt specifically to take his pic with our gal. So I did, too, of course.

When we got home, Cash started kicking a fever. What? Why? He’s almost done with the antibiotics for the sinus infection!

On Sunday, he had no fever, but by night’s end he had a rash. Awesome. Poor kid.

Kris canceled his plans for the day to stay with the rashy one. I attended the daycare’s Thanksgiving Feast solo.

In my mind, Thanksgiving is now over and we haven’t even reached the real thing yet. Wonder if I will remember to make hand turkeys this year...

Twice in my twenties

2011-11-18T20:40:00.000-06:00

A son of one of my former coworkers has started working at the Times. He was a small fry when I met him more than a decade ago. He's a grown man now.

I saw him at our company's Thanksgiving lunch this week (yeah, we had it a week early).

"Kelsey, I'm gonna pretend that I am meeting you now for the first time," I told him. "That way, I don't have to feel old about how grown you are."

He paused for a moment to remember me.

"Oh. What are you? Like 29?"

I need to Facebook that boy's momma and tell her what a fine son she has.

Tonight, Kris and I went to Villa Fiesta for dinner. I ordered a margarita. The server eyed me slowly.

"Yeah, with you I can't tell."

I paused. Kris explained that she meant for me to show her my ID.

"Oh!" I reached for my purse.

The server laughed and said "I can tell by how excited she is that she's old enough."

Indeed.

But twice, in one week! To be assumed I am still in my twenties.

Somebody Facebook me and tell me I'm livin' right.

Family of five portraits

2011-11-17T18:47:00.001-06:00

Miranda Cunningham of Imagination Photography did a wonderful job on family portraits for us. I have already ordered Christmas cards. (I know it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. But I had a BOGO coupon!)

While I will often wrangle those nearby into taking a shot of the whole family, we have never had a family photo shoot before.

I thought Miranda would be a great choice because she takes good photos and my kids don’t know her. (Our pal Eric is an awesome photographer, but he plays bison with them. I’m betting they would be total punks for him.)

One of the momblogs I follow linked to a post on what to wear for a family photo shoot. I checked out the suggestions and the very first row looked familiar.

“Hey, charcoal with hints of yellow is what we’re going for! We are trend!”

Ben was going to be in a charcoal thermal tee and Cash in a yellow one. For Zoe, we decided on purple, because we think she rocks purple and it’s opposite yellow on the color wheel.

But two days before our shoot, I laid out all of our outfits on the guest bed. And Zoe’s purple ensemble jumped out. It did not jive. So last minute, I subbed in one of her striped t-shirts (hint of yellow). Then Cash’s shirt stood out, so it got a swap, too.

Not so much with the color-coordination after all. Ah, well.

Location-wise, we decided to roam up and down Locust Street. (Kris and I both work on Locust. The street is a second home!)

Thank you for such an excellent experience, Miranda! I hope we get to do it again next year.

Remember the timing

2011-11-16T15:24:00.000-06:00

This is a post to self. To remind me that I feel peace about the adoption process when I remember that God is in control.

Not governments, not agencies, not me.

We’re looking for a little sister, right? Born this year in China, with albinism. Pretty specific.

As a Love Without Boundaries volunteer, of course I have them in my Facebook feed. But I don’t check Facebook every day. Jennifer Strawn is my Facebook spy and when she sees LWB post a picture of kids with albinism, she shares the link with me.

Last month, they posted this little girl in Dingxi.

And this month, this baby:

This baby is in Huainan. Zoe’s orphanage.

Of course we think “what if?”

But we don’t know. We just walk it out.

When things take longer than I think they will, I must remember that the timing will be right.

When they cost more than I expect, I must remember that He is orchestrating this and He will pay for it.

When panic threatens to disarm my peace, I must remember grace.

Chocolate-Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Muffins

2011-11-15T12:19:00.000-06:00

Chocolate-Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Muffins

2 packages chocolate chocolate chip muffin mix
1 cup milk
Half a can of pumpkin

Mix together, place into 12 muffin cups, bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes.

Magic goodness! Chocolate and vegetable matter... for breakfast!

Last week, we tried a recipe that called for mushrooms and fancy cheese and pumpkin. I picked it out because it looked fall-ish. But recipes that use pumpkin always seem to want you to add the same spices that go in a pumpkin pie. And hey, I love me some pumpkin pie. But pumpkin is swell on its own and maybe we don't need cinnamon or cloves or whatnot every time?

So we had half a can of pumpkin left and I was like "what if I add it to some muffin mix?"

Oh my goodness, were those muffins good.

111111

2011-11-11T20:25:00.000-06:00

If I hadn't made it to work today and overheard my coworkers talking about it being 11:11am on 11-11-11, I wouldn't even have remembered what day it was.

It has been a crazy week. Adoption meeting, metal teeth, Cash sinus infection, putting together the winter issue of Style and the daycare closed for Veteran's Day.

We planned to take the kids to visit Kris' grands as we did last year, but they're out of town. Instead, I worked a half day to make up for time lost to Cash's fever and then we hit a park. (Much as we celebrated 101010.)

111111.

Ben of the metal teeth

2011-11-09T16:00:00.000-06:00

Ben had his oral surgery this morning and is now sporting some spiffy metal teeth. We were told to be at the children's hospital at 7:30am, that a parent must be present at all times and to be prepared to stay until at least 1pm.

My dad came over to the house at 6am and drove us to the hospital. The procedure itself did not take very long, and Ben was only inconsolable afterward because they had yet to take out the IV. Once that was gone, he was good. And very, very hungry.

He couldn't eat after midnight, and while we got to the hospital at 7:30, they didn't take him back for surgery until 10:30.

A Three Hour Wait.

Made manageable by Ben's ability to make new friends.

He met this little boy in the playroom. Soon, they were using the Little Tykes roll-abouts as bumper cars, playing chase in the halls, making up games. The boy followed Ben into the waiting room we had been assigned and began coloring.

The anesthesiologist came by to see if we had any questions, and he asked how Ben was doing. (This was an hour and a half into the wait.)

"My tummy is growling," Ben told him.

The guy paused and then told Ben "that was the most mature response I've had all morning."

Ben spent a good deal of the time talking with my dad about building an armadillo trap. He has grand plans to catch the animal my dad says is making ruts in his backyard.

That's my Ben. Metal-teeth having, hospital playdate-hosting, armadillo-hunting mature, 4-year-old.

Three Krispy Kremes

2011-11-08T09:54:00.000-06:00

Kris and I were near a Krispy Kreme yesterday, so we stopped to get doughnuts for the kids. (And yeah, us, too.) As soon as we saw the chocolate-covered ones with sprinkles, we were like "those are the ones for the kids."

When it was time for dessert after dinner, their eyes lit up with delight when Kris brought out the doughnuts.

I stood nearby and ate a different kind of doughnut. (Mmm, cinnamon sugar apple filled...)

Ben gestured to the doughnuts with sprinkles.

"Why'd you get three?" he asked.

"Because I have three kids," I answered.

"Not four?"

"Nope, not yet."

But that was why there were doughnuts for dessert: there's a Krispy Kreme near Lifeline's new location. We had our final interviews for the home study. The kids hear us talking about the adoption, but the process is confusing enough when explaining to adults that I don't bother to lay out the steps for the kids. Maybe I should.

"We're working on it, though," I told them. "We had a meeting about it today."

Ben wanted to know what his little sister's name will be. Zoe wanted to know when she's coming home. Apparently, they are eager to meet her.

"I don't know. But she might be born already, so whenever you think of her, just say a prayer for her."

Zoe asked if she could carry her when she comes home, and I said "that will depend on how big she is."

"I'm going to feed her a bottle," Ben declared.

"And that will depend on how old she is," I told him.

"She will be one," he said.

Okay.

"My little sister doesn't like snakes," Zoe said.

"Then let's pray she doesn't encounter any snakes," I offered.

It will probably be about a month or so before the final home study is done. And then we apply to immigration again.

If this second home study had moved faster, I think we could have just renewed our immigration approval. But it expired in October, so we apply again. And apparently that, too, takes three months.

Must have current home study to apply and must have immigration approval to complete dossier and must have dossier logged in to receive a child's referral. So, even if Catoe 4.0 is born, first we can even look for her is sometime next year.

Of course, next year is no longer so far away. A week of November is gone. I lose time like nobody's business these days.

Fall "festival"

2011-11-06T15:02:00.000-06:00

On Saturday, Ben gasped and said "we forgot our fall festival!" and I was afraid he meant the one hosted by the church where he attends preschool... because that was last weekend. But no. He meant it's fall and we hadn't yet made a big pile of leaves to jump in.

However, we had hoped to do that very thing in the evening because Carol's nephew Alex (and his mom Vicki) would be joining us for supper club. Piles of leaves and a campfire were on the docket provided the weather was cooperative.

And it was.

In the midst of an Expanded Supper Club, I forgot to get my camera back out. So I have no campire pics, but it was nice, and I have no Alex pics, but having him here was also nice!

This age

2011-11-04T13:18:00.000-05:00

When I went to pick the kids up yesterday, they had all been ushered into a different room because one of their classmates had just vomited all over the rug they sit on in the afternoons.

Zoe was calm until she saw me, and then she ran over and began crying hysterically, telling me over and over that she didn’t like it that Hayden threw up.

I could not calm her down, so I just ushered my sobbing daughter to the van. She was so upset, she didn’t even look in the console for the daily driving home snack. And when Ben got the pack of gummies for her, she became violently mad at him and hurled them to the floor.

This? Is something I don’t enjoy about parenting small children. I have no idea why Zoe was so upset that her friend threw up.

Maybe it was loud? Scary? It smells bad and she thought she might hurl? Got some on her? Just really concerned for her friend?

I have no idea. And she couldn’t articulate her feelings amidst the hysterics.

But the thing is, even when something feels irrational and innocuous to us adults, it’s very real, oh-so-present for our kids. However, they cannot convey to us why they are upset or how we might fix it. In such situations, I am at a loss and living alongside a terrified/angry/sobbing/fit-pitching small person.

Ben and Cash talked non-stop of the vomit event as well. Ben said we should pray for Hayden, and I did on the way home. (I also selfishly asked that none of his classmates or teachers get sick. Y’know, when petitioning and all...) Cash kept trying to tell me that Hayden either touched his hair or hit him in the head. Yeah, understanding all of Cash’s statements is still a work in progress.

We made vegetable soup for dinner. The way I make it uses a can of sliced potatoes, but Kris got a can of whole ones by accident. As he made bowls of soup for the kids, he made sure a whole potato was in each one.

“Dinosaur Egg Soup,” he announced as he set the table.

Aww, that whole potatoes can easily be deemed Dinosaur Eggs.

Now, that I love about this age.

Post-extravaganza

2011-11-01T11:17:00.000-05:00

Last year, I took Ben trick-or-treating to a whopping two houses. This year, I had three children to take trick-or-treating and two houses wasn’t gonna cut it. So I called Patti and asked if I could bring my posse to her neighborhood. She said yes.

I gathered my wee ones from school, brought them home and we set about getting everybody in costume.

Ben had seen Kris chopping on my blue wig Sunday morning and he was excited. “Cash, Zoe, come see! Mommy has blue hair on!”

I don’t think the kids would have minded if we didn’t dress up, but I think Ben appreciated that I donned a wig and Zoe was taken with the fact that we both had on wings.

(And when my posse was out visitin’ and I stayed behind to give out candy, I think the other kids got a kick out of a grown-up in costume handing them Tootsie roll pops and candy bars.)

Danny was excited about taking five kids around the neighborhood and called a place that rents out golf carts. It was a limo version, that held six people! It was perfect.

The kids were all so excited to climb on it. Danny, Kris and Patsy drove them off for the first spin. They hit a few houses and returned for fuel (pizza).

Then my dad was in charge of driving and Patti and I held onto the kids.

It’s funny, because Elizabeth is the oldest and thus the wisest on this Halloween thing. She rode up front with my dad. Ben sometimes sat with her and sometimes with me.

I kept Cash in my lap and he was getting pretty tired by then, so I had to carry him to each house. (Emily was pooped, too, and chose to stay home with Danny.)

Zoe rode in the back with “Miss Patti.”

That’s what is so funny to me about friends and family. You never know when you might end up escorting someone else’s kid around!

Elizabeth and Zoe also found joy in doling out candy to trick-or-treaters who stopped by the Wilborns.

Cash was small enough that everybody thought he was really cute when I’d make him say “trick or treat” and “thank you.”

Ben was determined to keep his dinosaur head on, even though it kept sliding over to the side. He only let me remove it when he was done trick-or-treating.

We ran into Beth Singleton at one house and she warned us that somebody jumps out of a coffin when you get to the porch. We called B and E back to us and sent them across the street. None of our littles find joy in being scared (yet).

I know there are people who don’t like Halloween and people who think it’s evil. I think it is a fun American tradition where you get to dress up and mingle with your community.

Zoe seemed to agree.

2011 costumes: the grown-ups

2011-10-31T13:13:00.000-05:00

I found a Union Jack dress at the thrift store. Perhaps it was part of an old Spice Girls costume. It appealed to my inner anglophile, so I bought it and tried to decide what sort of costume I could use it with.

Kris and I have discussed dressing up as a duo before, but we never do. I was like "hey, you could be Austin Powers and I could be a go-go girl!" But Kris had another costume in mind.

I acquired some white go-go boots anyway, and some red leggings and huge red hoop earrings. I had a blue wig. I was going to be all red, white and blue... only British. The British Invasion.

Kris drove the kids over to his parents' place and I donned my costume... only I didn't like the wig with it. I called Kris and warned him that I would need his hair assistance.

"Could you like pretend we had one of those 'bumpit' things you're always joking about?"

Of course he could.

So, with my Union Jack dress, and real hair... I accidentally became a fembot for Halloween.

Kris wanted to be Mayhem from the Allstate Insurance commercials.

He put on some thrift store suit attire, went out in the backyard and rolled around in the dirt and then took a burnt stick from our campfire and rubbed it across his cheek.

I told him I wanted to take him to the burnt-out buildings on 4th Street for a photo shoot.

Then we zipped back home to greet our guests.

Eric and Carol as Johnny & June Carter Cash (look, my old guitar!)...

Jimmy was creepy as all get out. I could not look at his forehead in profile.

Some of the Sweeney Todd cast dropped by...

As did Liz, the big game hunter...

And Cookie was a black-eyed pea with posse...

Happy Halloween!

How's her English?

2011-10-28T12:06:00.000-05:00

Kris told me yesterday that sometimes clients still ask him how Zoe's English is progressing. I'm like, what? OLD NEWS! Zoe speaks fluent English!

But, of course, some of his clients only come in every few months and they never see Zoe in person, just pictures.

Zoe's English is amazing. Does she still make mistakes? Sure. She often refers to her brothers with feminine pronouns.

And I tell people if Zoe says "yesterday" you may have to put it in the context of a Mad Lib, where "yesterday" doesn't necessarily mean the day before today but was just the word she used to mean [unit of time].

Somebody asked us if she ever speaks Mandarin anymore. Not really. Once in the last month, I heard her singing Old MacDonald and saying a couple of the phrases in not English. (But it wasn't the same as her singing it in Mandarin.)

One thing, though, is that only recently has she spoken her Chinese name for us and used the inflection that the Chinese did.

We pronounced it wrong. H-why, Chun, Bai. She says it more Hi, Shun, Bai.

Zoe speaks English so well that I have to remind myself it has been her primary language for only a short time. I'm sure it will lead to some misunderstandings in the future (perhaps at Big School) because adults and other kids won't realize that she doesn't have the same word arsenal as native speakers.

I'm glad for her late-September birthday. I think another ten months or so absorbing and practicing her English will make a world of difference as she enters kindergarten.

Costume preview: the twins

2011-10-26T13:40:00.000-05:00

I loved getting to pick out Ben's Halloween costumes.

For his first Halloween, he was Superman. (We tried some others, but he liked having his hands free plus our pal LeNola had said he looked like a little Clark Kent.)

For his second Halloween, he was a dog, because that year he LOVED dogs.

Cash was only two months old for his first Halloween, so he was more a lump than a baby. But "Skeleton Bones" is a song Scott Parker often did when I was pregnant with Cash and the outfit was fitting:

Ben was supposed to be a dragon that year, but he refused to wear his costume once I tried to get a picture of him and Cash. (The HORROR!)

Last year, I planned on Ben being a cowboy for Halloween, but on the night itself, he wanted to wear his dragon costume. I knew then that this year, he needed to have a say in costume choice. I gave him several options and let him decide.

He wanted to be this dinosaur:

Now, Zoe is five, but this is still her first Halloween. I think it's okay for me to pick out her costume this one time and then next year, she gets a say.

But what should she be?

If she'd been home last year, when Kris was the mad hatter? Zoe would have been an excellent Alice!

Photoshopped pic of Zoe at 4 years old on an Alice costume – not that creepy since I'm a Photoshop maven
(okay, maybe a wee bit creepy, but see, she would be an adorable Alice, no?)

I knew Zoe would want a costume that was girly. I think she could rock a Strawberry Shortcake ensemble, too, but I will spare you making another Photoshopped image to prove it.

But Zoe doesn't know who Strawberry Shortcake is. (I think Cash would have been cute as the Scarecrow from Wizard of Oz, but they've never seen it and doesn't it seem a little off to dress a kid as a character they've never heard of? I mean, once they are old enough to know other characters? Yes, I think about this too much.)

Party City sends me emails all year because I once bought a wig from them. Over the summer, they let me know I could get a woodland fairy costume on the cheap. It was yellow and green and shiny and came with glittery wings. Sold!

I found the shoes on uber clearance at the Gap outlet in Boaz. Zoe is in love with her costume. She has already balked at the idea of wearing leggings beneath it to trick-or-treat.

See, over the summer? We hadn't yet planned on taking them trick-or-treating. She could have worn this sleeveless ensemble to hit a couple houses on our street and then spend the rest of the evening indoors. I haven't figured out how to keep her warm next Monday yet.

Costume preview: Cash Monkey

2011-10-25T14:04:00.000-05:00

The weather was so nice yesterday. The kids were happy. I thought about next Monday and how we’ll have three kids to feed dinner (need a base for all that sugar), wrangle into costumes and then take trick-or-treating. And of course I’ll want photos and what if somebody isn’t cooperative?

So I decided I would dress them up one at a time this week. Cash went first. He’s a monkey this year.

[I really wanted him to be a garden gnome, but all the customer reviews said it runs small and that the beard is attached to the hat... and he doesn’t know what gnomes are anyway. If I could sew, Cash would have been an adorable gnome. And if Old Navy had the lion costume they did in previous years, he would have been a lion because he does a great RAWR. But they didn’t. So he’s a monkey.]

Zoe is excited that her turn is today, because she hasn’t seen her costume yet. I told her she will be a fairy princess.

Yesterday, she had another meeting with a representative of the Gadsden City school board. This one was to assess her vision so they would know what recommendations to make. Apparently, both ladies she’s met with the school board think she’s brilliant and adorable. (Agreed.)

Zombied out

2011-10-23T15:29:00.000-05:00

The 7th annual zombie parade was yesterday.

This is a downtown tradition that began in 2005 because Nicole Papa wanted "a zombie parade" for her birthday and her friends Leslie Nicholson, Scott Croley and Nathan (and Ivy) McCurley were happy to oblige.

They dressed up as zombies and walked around Broad Street taking pictures. It was so fun, they decided to do it again the next year. Leslie made fliers.

While the original parade was a mere five undead strong, there was a bigger turnout in year two. I'd guess more than a dozen people, less than two dozen. But one never gets a head count at these things. (ba-dum)

But each year, the crowd grows. In 2009, one of the TV news stations did a segment on the parade and they gathered us all for this shot.

Kris and I have been to every parade but the first one. Zombies are not my thing, but I'm always down for supporting my pals and/or a themed get-up.

Years ago, Kris and I attended the parade knowing that Leslie would be there and probably Nicole and Nathan and Scott...

This year, there was no Leslie. No Nicole, no Nathan. Scott came but not in costume.

The parade has transitioned from an event where I know I will be surrounded by friends to one where I know I will be surrounded by strangers,

The zombies gather at 4pm and the parade begins at 4:30. Each year, there are new zombies. All there is to the parade is walking up and down the sidewalks of Broad Street. But it still helps to have somebody lead.

At 4:25, we looked around. A parking lot teeming with zombies and nobody to lead. Leslie had asked Kris to in 2009.

That's the deal when you're an extrovert and a former youth pastor: you never know when you might find yourself in the bed of your truck, calling a parking lot of zombies to arms.

Leslie wanted to bow out of the parades, but she gets so many messages asking when it will be.

I guess you can't say there a need for a Gadsden Zombie Parade. But there is a want.

For every face I saw yesterday that conveyed "I can't believe I came out for this" I heard someone excitedly planning for next year.

I don't know what next year holds. I think if we're there for the 8th go, it will be sans kiddos and with the knowledge that somebody might look to Kris as the ringmaster.

I'm hesitant to dress my children as the undead. I put them in their Halloweenish shirts and we did some makeup and dribbled a little fake blood on their pants. Zombie-lite.

Zoe wiped her makeup off before we ever got there. She clearly had no idea what was going on, but also, seemed happy. "I'm Zoe!" she would tell the crowd. "And this is Cash and Ben."

Cash did half of his makeup himself. "My do it." He pretended to be a zombie once, but not for my camera.

Ben had the most fun extending his arms to the parade-watchers in an effort to "scare" them.

I realized that at this age, I am not condoning zombies or horror for them. I am condoning dressing for the occasion, enjoying the outdoors and finding fun in the little things.

I don't even like zombies.

But I am for fun and the freedom of expression. For outlets of creativity and the chance to connect.

Srsly?

2011-10-20T16:08:00.000-05:00

Kris and I did not get good sleep on Tuesday night. Cash woke up crying in the early AM and we brought him to our room to try and figure out what was wrong and allow Ben to remain asleep.

A clean diaper and two medications later, Cash was not crying but still fussy. He wanted to go downstairs and watch Diego. We settled for letting him watch a couple episodes in our bed.

Baby Jaguar at 2 a.m. This is the high life, I tell ya.

I prayed last night that all our wee ones would sleep soundly so that we might as well.

And the children, at least, did sleep soundly.

But shortly after 1 a.m., one of the smoke alarms started chirping loudly every minute. Kris staggered from bed to locate which one it was. (As per fire marshal and home study regulations, we have a smoke alarm in every bedroom and one in the hall.) He determined it to be Zoe's (she rustled and went back to sleep) and stumbled back to bed.

Shortly after 3 a.m., the smoke alarm in our room began chirping.

By chirping, I mean SHARP SONIC SHRIEKS.

"Oh, for the love!"

So, house, I add you to the list. We'd all like to rest well tonight.

Burnin' through October

2011-10-19T16:28:00.000-05:00

Ben has been all about some campfire action. Kris' mom made him a fire in their chiminea on Sunday. We don't have one of those, so Kris made a rock ring and dispatched the kiddos to collect twigs and branches.

We managed to not catch anybody on fire.

Later, we came inside and to the conclusion that keeping GJ's dog for awhile resulted in our house having fleas.

AWESOME.

More preschool photography

2011-10-18T12:38:00.000-05:00

This time, with some by Cash, too. (Previously, I only showcased the twins' work.)

(See more of the kids' work here)

Being there

2011-10-17T12:46:00.000-05:00

When we got to Kris’ parents’ yesterday, Ben and Zoe zoomed up the stairs, but Cash wanted to play outside. I stayed to watch him zoom a little Happy Meal skateboard in the gravel.

He was being cute, so I got my camera out of the van and just took photos of him and our surroundings. Ben joined us after awhile.

We feel it coming: the descent of winter. And we thrive on being outside. The boys keep asking to go to “the animal center.” Can we fit it one more visit before our season pass expires? The remaining October weekends are so full already.

The calendar knows it: the days will be short and cold and the holidays burn through. Schedule your frolicking accordingly.

Zoe is trying to get a handle on what lies ahead. She is eager to try this trick-or-treating thing. I got her a Christmas shirt at the thrift store and aside from letting her try it on, have told her she can start wearing it after Thanksgiving.

But Zoe hasn’t done an American Holiday Season yet. Halloween and Thanksgiving turkey and the lights and songs and presents of Christmas.

“After Thanksgiving” has no frame of reference for her. She works it out, though.

I held her for a few songs during worship yesterday. She took the chance to ask me if I would hold her when she went to the dentist for her new tooth. (She’d never lost a tooth before. In her mind, it’s something that occurs at the dentist.)

“You don’t have to go to the dentist for that. It will come in on its own.”

She nodded.

“Will you hold me?”

“Yes, I will.”

For that which I cannot explain, I can demonstrate by being there.

The Connected Child

2011-10-14T13:02:00.000-05:00

For our home study update, Kris and I have been reading The Connected Child. This book was not required reading for our initial home study, but I wish it had been!

We knew some of the material from readings elsewhere and living it for nearly a year, but it sure would have been easier to have it all collected in one book.

As an example, this passage called “Be a ‘Good Boss’” explains well why “children feel safest with adults who are kind but firm leaders:”

Most at-risk children have been “bossed” by adults who were not safe — who hurt them physically, emotionally and/or sexually. That’s why you always want to temper your stance of authority by demonstrating clearly that while you are the “boss,” you are safe and can be trusted. In addition, you want to communicate that you are a boss who is attuned to your child’s needs and is even willing to make compromises.

A little child who always has to be the boss of himself is not a happy child. After all, how can a child fully trust an adult who can’t even control him, a little kid? Though your child may resist at first, he is actually relieved not to have to be in charge, not to have to be prematurely self-reliant. Deep down, it is a relief for him to learn to trust and rely on a safe adult.

[Internet pal shout-out: Amanda, I remember reading your archives years ago when you guys fostered BeBe and I never forgot “BeBe’s not the boss.” But I went back today to re-read the entry and where you say “it must be pretty hard for a 3-year-old to be in charge all the time” — EXACTLY!]

While this would have been a great book to have read before we brought Zoe home, I think it has a lot of useful info for us in the now. I like their concept of teaching re-do’s.

Re’do’s are a wonderful tool for shaping behavior. They help a child feel successful and activate motor memory. … A re-do “erases” the muscle memory of the failed behavior and gives the child the physical and emotional experience of substituting a successful one in its place.

All of my wee posse could benefit from some behavior re-shaping. I’m going to adopt the practice of offering re-do’s. (Such as “I said hand it to him, not throw it at him. Here, try again.”)

One of the final chapters has a checklist on getting back to the basics. Maybe I should print it out:

Is my approach playful and interactive?
Do I show that I genuinely value my child?
Do I alert my child to what’s coming next?
Do I enforce consequences consistently?
Do I mean what I say? Do I follow through on my words?
Am I responding to misbehavior within three seconds?
Am I guiding my child through re-do’s?
Do I let my child make choices and problem-solve?
Do I make regular eye contact when I speak?
Do I give my child my undivided attention?
Do I give whole-hand, affectionate touches?
Do I make affirming, warm comments?
Do I behave consistently?
Do I facilitate joint problem-solving with my child?
Do I help my child self-regulate and develop self-awareness?
Do I encourage my child to tell me his feelings?
Do I ask my child what she needs?
Do I create a schedule that accommodates my child’s fundamental needs?
Do I simplify my life enough that I can give my child my attention?

Man, it seems like a lot of work. It is. But we’re shooting for the Gold Standard here: kids who grow up to be awesome adults. I’ll read the books. Make the efforts. And, hopefully, someday reap the rewards.

This is an investment model of parenting; the foundation you establish while the child is young will reap rewards as he or she matures. Consistent training is an important investment in your child’s future. It’s high-investment, high-yield parenting.

This mole of mine

2011-10-13T15:46:00.000-05:00

On the back of my left arm, up near my shoulder, I have a mole. It is easy to forget it's there.

Whenever I eventually get around to seeing a dermatologist (y'know, something I have meant to do for years), I will ask for it to be removed. It's not a scary mole, but it is like a quarter of an inch wide and a hair grows out of the damn thing. (One of Kris' husbandly duties is to periodically check for and help tweeze mole hair growth.)

[I thought about deleting the above paragraph as it could be embarrassing to blog about a hairy mole, but I'm sure you have one, too.]

Over the past year, I have developed a fondness for this silly mole.

While Kris and I were in China, our hotel in Guangzhou provided a crib instead of a cot for Zoe. At 4 years old, she was too big for a crib, so we just put her in the bed between us.

One night, she was ignoring the message that it was time to go to sleep, so I rolled over with my back to her.

And she played with my mole.

It's such a little kid thing to do, how could I not laugh?

Over this past summer, now that Cash can talk, he developed a habit of going "mole!" when we all rode in the truck together if I had on a sleeveless shirt. (His carseat is in the middle, putting him in mole's eye view if I'm in the passenger seat.)

Cash, for some reason, is delighted that I have this mole. When he points it out, the kids all begin to look on their person to see if they can find a mole. They love me so much, they wish they had one, too.

It is one of motherhood's unexpected gifts. That something simple, something hairy and that I wouldn't remind removed... can be a source of bonding and delight.

Pinkalicious

2011-10-12T15:06:00.000-05:00

For Zoe’s birthday, Patti got her a copy of Pinkalicious. It's the first book we’ve seen Zoe take a real interest in.

(She was mildly interested in a book about three baby bears when I pointed out there was a Ben bear, a Cash bear and a Zoe bear. And she liked a Sesame Street book about shapes.)

We brought Pinkalicious home from the Wilborns and I said “let’s all get in Zoe’s bed to read her new book.” And we did.

For the next couple of days, she would get the book out for one of us to read or she would “read” it to us. After hearing the story one or two times, she remembered what was happening on most every page. She could roughly tell us the story.

I mused about why Zoe favors this book. Perhaps because yes, it’s about pink. And surely part of it is that Miss Patti gave it to her and Zoe loves Miss Patti. Perhaps because we all climbed into her bed for the first reading of it.

My musing led me to realize that as much as I love to read and want my children to love to read, I do not buy them that many books. We get a book a month from the Dolly Parton Imagination Library. (Soon we should get two because the ladies at the United Way had me fill out a form for Cash, too.)

Patsy sometimes buys books for the kids, and of course we’ve bought them some. But not really that many.

I wouldn’t have known where to begin on picking out a book for Zoe. I might have made the mistake of picking out something too young for her. (Pinkalicious is for ages 4-8, and it pleases me for Zoe to be on target.)

At least I can cheat off Patti: there are more Pinkalicious books!

All at once

2011-10-11T14:33:00.000-05:00

We were supposed to have the home tour for our home study update on Monday. At the last moment, it was rescheduled. I’d already told Ben we would pick him up from school early.

Kris is a good dad, so he stopped what he was doing around 4pm and went to get the kids. We figured he could take them to a park and then I would meet them. But it began to rain.

“Would you mind taking them to GJ’s house instead?” I asked him.

I figured the kids would like to see her dog and that GJ might be bummed out because Doug was here for two weeks but went home on Sunday. (The GJ update is that she is a little better now that she’s home. Doug is supposed to be looking for an apartment for her in Florida.)

When I got off work, I met everybody at GJ’s house and helped get the kids home. Kris went inside to start dinner and I stayed outside so the kids could play in the front yard.

The backyard is where the playset and sandbox are, but the lure of the front yard is that they are not allowed out there by themselves.

What is there to do in the front yard? Well, there’s a patch of dirt by the sidewalk and the boys love to put their toys (dinosaur for Ben, car for Cash) in the dirt. Or they play fetch. One of them finds a stick and they take turns pretending to be a dog. Yeah, boys.

Yesterday, I had gotten all of them their safety scissors and they were cutting leaves and grass. (I think this activity makes them feel big, like they are Working In The Yard just like mommy and daddy.)

Cash kept cutting the tips off the iris leaves. I gave him fair warning that if he did it again, I was taking his scissors away. He gleamed at me. SNIP!

I pocketed his scissors.

“Waaaaahhhh!” Big crocodile tears.

I knelt and hugged him and explained again. Calmly.

The upside of being a thrice-times parent: I’m getting the hang of being the loving wall.

The downside of having three: I can’t be there for all of them at once.

Because while I was on the grass with Cash, hugging him through the tears, he looked past me and said “dog!”

I turned and saw a couple walking and a big brown dog ahead of them. As they got closer, I saw the dog wasn’t on a leash. He began loping toward us.

I only had time to get to my feet and pick Cash up before the dog was to us. He seemed nice but also excited to see people.

When you’re still pint sized, you don’t see a dog that seems friendly, you see an animal as big as you, coming toward you too fast and with his mouth open.

The dog was like “hey, new friends!” and when I picked Cash up, he ran over to Zoe.

She started screaming her head off.

The dog ran back to me and I tried to reach down and get his collar, but now Ben was on the alert and trying to run to the door, which of course only brought the dog’s attention.

As the couple passed our house, the girl informed me apologetically that the dog was not theirs.

Zoe and Ben had made it to our front door, but rain was in the air and that makes the door swell and stick and Zoe couldn’t get it open.

(In the house, Kris had the windows open while he cooked and sound ricochets off the house. He heard Zoe’s hysterical screams, but thought they were coming from the backyard. He assumed yellow jackets got her and raced onto the deck to find... no children.)

Once we had everybody inside, all I could do was listen to Ben and Zoe tell me they were scared. They recounted the tale over and over.

“I know. I’m so sorry.” I hugged them.

I explained to them that the dog probably just wanted to play. That he had a collar and “may have gotten out of his fence, just like Frazier.”

(Frazier is the dog that lives across the street. He’s small but excitable. He’s the one that has terrified both Zoe and Cash before by charging them, but they seem to have forgiven him.)

I felt bad. That in just a moment, I saw something about to happen but couldn’t swoop up all three. Cash was the logical choice: the closest to me, the youngest, the one most recently scared by a dog.

Still, I wish I could have protected all three.

Gluten-ruiners

2011-10-10T19:43:00.000-05:00

This morning, I covered the Wee Can Fight Obesity program at Hokes Bluff Elementary. In poking around the internet, I found the Fed Up With Lunch blog.

I bookmarked it, because I'm pretty sure when B and Z start school next year, I will be making their lunches. Not so much because they are picky eaters but because I'm getting ever pickier about what foods seem right to eat and/or feed to my children.

"Mrs. Q" (a.k.a. Sarah Wu, 34, a speech pathologist in Chicago) decided to eat school lunch every day for a year and blog about it anonymously. Why?

They say “having a baby changes everything.” They aren’t lying. Every parent and teacher wants their kids to eat the best food. Now that my baby is eating real food, I work hard everyday to make sure it is the best food possible.

Yep. I cared so much more about what I ate when I became pregnant. And once Ben was born? I made him homemade baby food.

I care that my kids eat fruit and whole grain and don't get too much super-processed food, etc.

And then there's my adult foodie friends. Carol and Jaimie have both given up gluten and the more I eat with them, the less gluten I consume... which changes the way my body reacts to gluten.

I bookmarked Mrs. Q's blog because I want to go back and read how she went from eating her school's prepared lunches to packing her own, gluten and dairy free.

I'm fascinated by how if we have a reason to focus on what we eat and then pay attention... we so often change what we eat.

And here I am. Eleven months later. 150 lunches eaten. I’m oddly sickened but proud… My relationship to food has changed…forever…there’s no going back.

And also, because I think I will want school lunch packing ideas in the near future.

Wherefore fall?

2011-10-09T14:19:00.000-05:00

Thursday night, we cleared the table and set about making two batches of Chex mix: a classic mix and an apple-cinnamon mix. They were our contributions for the Give Back Bake Sale to benefit the Huainan orphanage.

Zoe helped me measure half-cups of mix to put into little zip-top bags. She was happy to help.

I'm pretty sure I inadvertently ruined not only the moment but her inner peace for days.

How?

By trying to explain that we were having a bake sale so we could send money to the kids still at the Huainan orphanage. I likened it to when she takes a snack for her class at school.

But she asked me if she was going back to China, and she has not been the same since that night. Unsettled in a deep place.

My lesson learned is that if Zoe wants to talk about China, I need to let her bring it up.

The day of the sale, our fearless bake sale leader (my editor Cyndi) was sick. Kris and I flew the sale solo, and though I think it would have been better with Cyndi at the helm, it was not bad.

Dad and Patsy picked the kids up from school and brought them to First Friday so Cash could see the trucks and they could pop by the sale. But they had such a good time hanging out at the church, they stayed until the cranky set in.

I enjoyed being downtown for the sale. I saw old high school pals (Lorna and Melody) and met Lisa Nail in person. I overheard someone say "I always like it when they have bake sales" and didn't take it personally when a man huffed "another bake sale" as he passed by the open doors.

On Saturday, we took the kids to the falls for the Halloween Super Bash. At first, they were thrown for a loop. They didn't get arm bands, we didn't start off on the train, what looked to them like a bounce house was actually for much bigger kids to throw footballs in. And yikes, did Ben not like the news about the wild dogs killing so many of the deer.

Then I walked Zoe over to a coin toss game where she "won" a bag of candy. Just like that, she got it.

"A prize!"

She was gleeful to run and find Ben and Cash and show them how look, you just put these coins in these cups and that lady gives you a bag of candy! (Zoe, you are going to LOVE Halloween.)

Ben was a total punk about not wanting to ride the train.

I'm such a different mom now that I have three. I vaguely recall that with one child, I cared what others might think if they heard me admonishing my kid. Not now.

There were hundreds of people at the falls, and I didn't give a thought as to who heard me telling Ben that I didn't care that he didn't want to ride the train.

"We're not riding it because you want to. Your brother and sister want to, and we are not splitting up. You're being a punk. If you don't stop whining, I'm going to spank you and then we're still gonna ride the train!"

(As it was, the train was so full and Ben was wailing and I couldn't imagine waiting at the station for the next one, so when I saw one empty seat, I grabbed Zoe's hand and took her and Cash on the train and left Ben and his punk self with Kris.)

While we rode the train, I got the distinct notion that the boy in front of us texted his mom a question about Zoe. Because when he held the phone for her to see it, she huffed at him and moved to obscure it from my view.

I thought it was smart of the boy to ask quietly. And the mom didn't know I couldn't read the text without my glasses. But mostly I was non-plussed.

Trying to make sure that Ben has a good time but is not allowed to be bossy, that Cash didn't end up with choking hazard candy, that Zoe can see where she's going because it was so bright outside... no room to care what random strangers wonder about my daughter.

Though I did decide perhaps low vision is a blessing in itself that it would be hard for her to see the open stares of strangers. Adults may exclaim about her hair and ask if it's natural. ("Yep.") Older kids may tactfully ask their moms via cell. But little kids gape.

Ben was still upset when we got back, but I came prepared with the magic words.

"Hey, I figured out where the bounce house is."

So we got candy, we got a train ride, we bounced and we were out. Not bad for a $20 adventure.

We got home in time to change clothes, feed the kids and give Katie instructions on pajamas and tooth-brushing and it was time to leave for Cookie's birthday party.

The Finlayson pool was decked out for the event: a buffet of tasty foods and spooky decor. The attention to detail was a thing to be marveled. And the weather was impossibly nice.

Scott Croley commented that when you are in such a nice moment, it's like you can forget that there's poverty and badness going on elsewhere.

(Scotty and I came up with a new party game, but it would take too long to explain. I just mention it so I won't forget that my new description is "gothy... but not." And perhaps "shoulderous.")

The kids were still awake when we got home an hour and a half past their bedtime, but I readily admitted to Katie that Rebecca, Coston and Stephen Peter were also always still awake when the Rowes returned on my watch.

Kris picked up a flat of pansies while we were at FLD and he planted them in the yard this morning. I somehow lost the whole month of September and now the first week of October.

We're well into fall. Really? How does that happen?

Oh yeah, three kids.

It answers all.

Tech regret

2011-10-07T14:22:00.000-05:00

The twins have had Leapsters for two days and already I regret their introduction to the realm of video gaming.

Full disclosure: I planned to introduce my kids to video games as a distraction device. We are driving to the beach in November, and I thought something like the Leapster might help keep them occupied during the long hours we will be in the van.

I neglected to tell Patsy my plan and she got Zoe a Leapster for her birthday. I have no complaints about that, because it was a gift chosen especially because she know Zoe is good with technology. It was a good gift.

But Ben was immediately intrigued with the device, too. We had a couple of squabbles, and I told the kids the Leapster was in timeout until I could order one for Ben.

And, though I promise there was no intention of gender stereotyping subversion, Ben’s Leapster is the pink and purple one and Zoe’s is the green and blue one.

Because the one Patsy got for Zoe was blue and green and I thought it would be easier to have two different colors. (There is another kind of Leapster that comes in green and white, but the games aren’t compatible with Zoe’s. Boo.)

So if any of you come by my house or something and wanna know why the pink one is Ben’s? It just is. Roll with it.

When I ordered the second Leapster, I also ordered two games. (We had but one game in the house and That Will Not Do.)

There were Tinkerbell games and Batman games, but I’m not sure my kids really know those characters nor care about them. When I saw a game called “Animal Genius” I was like “perfect for Ben!” And then I spied “Get Puzzled” for Zoe.

The kids love the games. They love their Leapsters. They are addicted already.

Which is... sad really. Sure, we all know how awesome it is to lose oneself in a game.

Except... is it? After hours invested in Tetris or Minesweeper, Bejeweled or Angry Birds, Myst or World of Warcraft... do we emerge better people? Sated? Well-rested? Anything?

Or do we just have a crick in our neck, have to pee and suddenly realized we skipped dinner, feel jittery from returning to real time and begin the countdown until we can game again?

The Leapster parent company wants me to feel like this is a learning device. That “Animal Genius” will teach Ben “vocabulary, matching skills, classification, sorting and animal facts.”

But it doesn’t. Ben is already an Animal Genius. He excels at the games because he knows the material. Will the game teach him delayed gratification when it takes him playing multiple lower levels to “win” a new animal? Maybe.

“Get Puzzled” is supposed to teach Zoe “logic and reasoning, language skills and problem-solving skills.” Which I already know she masters those things. Will it hone her ability to take instruction? We’ll see.

They have both argued with me for not letting them play their games. Ignored meals to play their games.

Wow, and I thought such stuff awaited me years from now!

I can’t help but feel that I sold them short. That for whatever happiness their “preschool gaming handheld” brings them, it also steals something.

Zoe and Ben didn’t know to ask for Leapsters. We adults provided them, assuming in part that they would like them or that it must be time.

But now I don’t know.

Good to be gourded

2011-10-05T12:30:00.000-05:00

The kids are accustomed to the notion that Kris and I will be running errands after we drop them off on Sundays. And from the times that we have returned with new pajamas or bike helmets, they now expect we will buy them stuff.

As we drove to Kris' parents on Sunday, Ben asked “get me a kudu?”

“Y’know, Ben, I’m not sure the store we’re going to will have kudus.”

“Well,” he said, matter-of-factly, “that’s the store I’m going to. The Pronghorn Store.”

Zoe said “I’m scared” and Ben replied “no, Zoe, don’t worry. There are no carnivores there.”

As it was, I did not actually look to see if WalMart had any kudus. But I did pass a display of gourds and could not resist the bag that had three stripey pumpkins.

“What did you get for us?” Ben and Zoe wanted to know later.

“Pumpkins!”

“Do you eat it?” Zoe asked.

Er, no. Not these anyway. You just sort of look at them or hold them because... it’s fall?

When we got the kids home, they couldn’t wait to get their pumpkins. And shortly thereafter, we had pumpkin rough-housing. I heard pumpkins rolling down the upstairs hall.

“If you bruise them and they rot, we’re throwing them away!” I yelled.

While I emptied the WalMart bags, I asked Kris to write the kids’ names on their pumpkins, so we would know which belonged to who if one needed tossing. I just meant a way we could tell them apart. Kris provided something far more sophisticated.

Before bed, I got out an orange cloth napkin and arranged the pumpkins on the table, each one facing where the kid usually sits to eat. A name-coordinated tabletop display.

Zoe deemed that she loved her pumpkin.

By this, I take to mean: I have no idea why you bought me a gourd that is neither to eat nor play with. But I like that you think of me and wrote my name on it.

Terrible teeth

2011-10-04T19:44:00.000-05:00

We Catoes are having a Bad Teeth Week.

Ben and Zoe had a dentist appointment yesterday. Ostensibly, just a cleaning.

But no.

One of Zoe’s teeth had abscessed. (The dentist guessed due to an old injury.) If left in place, it could cause damage to her permanent tooth. She was compliant during the cleaning, so the dentist numbed her up and yanked the tooth.

Ben was not compliant during his cleaning. There was kicking and screaming.

And he needs MAJOR dental work.

Kris called me at work to drop the bombs that Zoe would be missing a tooth when I got home and that early next month, Ben will be sporting some metallic teeth.

The news of both was... distressing.

I guess less so with Zoe because it isn’t a result of anything we did and the problem has been resolved.

With Ben, the very makeup of his teeth extends from my genes and then of course we are responsible for his food and dental care.

I was angsty all afternoon about Ben’s teeth.

Then I got home and Zoe ran to greet me and smiled to show me...

Kris had neglected to mention it was one of her front teeth.

Let me get all dental on you: it was her deciduous maxillary central incisor “F.”

She seems okay with it. Thank you, thank you, Yo Gabba Gabba episode “Teeth” that Zoe watched last month!

When Muno's baby teeth feel all wiggly, he is very scared. Luckily Foofa and Toodee are around to tell him there is nothing to worry about. When his baby teeth fall out, he'll get bigger, new teeth!

“I lost a baby tooth!”

She has asked when the new tooth will come in, though.

Um, sweetheart, I have no idea.

[faux cheer] Good thing I had to go back to the dentist today! [/faux cheer]

After I had a cavity filling replaced a few weeks ago, I got to start chewing on the left side of my mouth again. Which is when I discovered another tooth on that side giving me trouble. This morning, I got to have another filling replaced.

While I waited for the dentist, I asked about Zoe’s tooth.

“So if a baby tooth is pulled and it wasn’t loose yet, when might the permanent tooth grow in?”

The guess?

A year.

Hey, ‘member that time? That Zoe went for a cleaning and came home missing one of her front teeth, FOR A YEAR?

Or, to delve into my personal history, hey, Laura, ‘member that time you met that little girl and she had two metal-capped teeth? Do you recall the judgment you made about her parents? Makes you feel like crap now, doesn’t it?!?

Why yes, it does.

So, I expect there to be more toothpaste and fluoride and dental discussions at Casa de Catoe.

I should probably go floss now.

Babysitter

2011-10-03T18:43:00.000-05:00

I don’t know how this happened: Kris and I have been parents for more than four years and Saturday was the first time we used a babysitter.

Wait, I do know how it happened: we have an amazing array of friends and family.

When Ben was a bitty thing? Patti watched him so I could have a birthday dinner out. Jaimie watched him so I could go to the dentist. Terica watched him so I could get Moxied.

Not long after he was born, he hooked the grandparents on weekly visits.

That our kids have two sets of healthy grandparents that live in the same town and are able and willing to keep the kids?

We’ve got it made.

Still, there comes a time when what you need is a babysitter.

Ever since I interviewed Tom Banks (in July!) for the fall issue of Gadsden Style, I knew I wanted to see his Alabama room in action. I checked the football schedule, looking for away games.

Then I asked a gal I go to church with if she was open for business. I knew that Katie had taken a babysitting class, but was she game to keep three kids?

[Here is the Circle of Life: when I was a youth at the Vineyard, I sometimes babysat for the Rowe family. They had three kids when I began. When they added a fourth? I took along a friend if I went to sit for them.]

Whenever I expressed worry over our upcoming babysitting adventure, someone would say “oh, I’m sure Katie is very dependable” or something similar.

And I was like “dude, I’m not worried about the kids on Katie’s watch. I worry that they will be hellions and that Katie won’t ever want to do this again!”

Saturday evening arrived, as did Katie the Babysitter. I left dinners in the fridge, told the kids to be good (“and nobody poop on Katie’s watch!”) and we vamoosed.

We walked over to Carol and Eric’s to have supper club on their turf. We had actual background music instead of an episode of Caillou! When my phone rang during dinner, I answered promptly in case it was Katie. (It was my third recording from Dish Network about my account being overdue. Dish Network, I am not and have never been a customer! Call me as a live person and I will tell you such.)

When game time drew nigh, Eric drove us over to the Banks’ abode. (“Aww, I feel like we’re going to the airport!”)

I got to meet the famed Frances and drink some “liquid sunshine and Roll Tide goodness.”

When the clock said it was almost time to turn into pumpkins (we told Katie we’d be back by 8:30 so she wouldn’t have to do any bedtime rituals on the first go), I dashed across the street to say hello to some of my coworkers who live on the Banks’ block.

I thought my posse would come get me when it was time to leave, but I think in my absence, Kris actually watched the game. I know, so odd. I called and told him “we’re late!”

We made it home less than ten minutes late, and wouldn’t you know? It was in those minutes that Cash pooped.

But Katie is still game to sit again. She even said the kids were amazing and that they had a good time. I know the kids did. Zoe wanted to track Katie down at church the next day to ask her to come back to our house.

Babysitter gold!

How do they play

2011-09-29T19:41:00.000-05:00

After I found the link to the Disney Princess Recovery blog, I read several entries. And I noticed this in her sidebar:

play is used to as the mode of communication because it reflects the child's world, their understanding of the universe. Watch a child play for 20 minutes and you will learn more about him or her than through 20 minutes of asking them questions.

Which made me think "Hmm. How do my children play?"

Ben gets out the hardbound “Baby Animals” book that Patsy gave him for his 2nd birthday to commemorate his first trip to the zoo. On every page, he asks me what animal would eat the baby if his mother wasn’t looking? (He’d been looking at Sibling Relationships in the Animal World prior to this, where a baby elephant holds on to the mother or big sister’s tail so it won’t get lost and then eaten.)

Or Ben goes to the bathroom and comes back and asks “what does toilet paper start with?”

My son categorizes for play.

Cash takes a truck and vrooms it on the carpet. More hilariously, he takes one of Zoe’s new Littlest Pet Shop dolls, puts it to his mouth and does an elaborate “Aaahhh-CHOO!” and throws the animal to the floor, as if he has sneezed it out.

I pause and turn to Kris.

“Did you teach him that?”

Kris shakes his head.

I recall Kris doing the exact same thing, only with dirty socks, to make Ben laugh. But that has been so long... Zoe was not home yet. Perhaps Cash was not even born yet...

When I say Cash is like Kris, it is these things I mean.

And how does Zoe play?

She received a stuffed Corduroy for her birthday. But if we call him Corduroy, she corrects us.

“No, Teddy Bear.”

Okay.

She also received some toy manicure stuff. Those foam things used to separate toes? She takes one of those and uses it to pretend to brush Teddy Bear’s teeth.

And then she holds him down and gives him a shot. She tells him it will make him feel better.

If we are in her room, she instructs me to lie down. And then she goes to her play kitchen and brings me food.

Zoe’s play is caretaking.

Twenty minutes of watching the kids play, and I think they all is well in their universe.

Bossypants

2011-09-28T14:57:00.000-05:00

My September nonfic read was supposed to be Hellions, but I couldn't get into it. So I asked one of my library pals to hook me up with Tina Fey's Bossypants.

I don't know when I began to love Tina Fey, but I do. I remember her from SNL's Weekend Update though I was never a huge SNL fan. Maybe she won me over in Bust. I do know I love her big time in 30 Rock. I was looking forward to reading her book and it did not disappoint.

I laughed out loud, I learned more about her and was glad that while I read her chapter about should she have another kid? I already knew the answer because I compulsively check the People.com celebrity baby blog on occasion.

While many of the passages made me laugh, one part made me sad.

Remember that Tina Fey wrote the movie Mean Girls based on a non-fiction book Queen Bees and Wannabees? The author of that book, Rosalind Wiseman, conducted a self-esteem workshop that Fey attended as research.

[Wiseman] did this particular exercise with about two hundred grown women, asking them to write down the moment they first "knew they were a woman." Meaning, "When did you first feel like a grown woman and not a girl?" The group of women was racially and economically diverse, but the answers had a very similar theme. Almost everyone first realized they were becoming a grown woman when some dude did something nasty to them.

Doesn't that suck?

Unsuck? These links via the Wiseman site:
Disney Princess Recovery
How To Talk To Your Kids About Porn

FIVE!

2011-09-27T13:42:00.000-05:00

Many months ago, Zoe began to ask us about earrings. She was probably inspired by Kris’ mom. Jan is a powerhouse of accessories. And Zoe does love the bling.

We told Zoe she could get her ears pierced when she was five. I wanted her language skills to be far enough along for her to understand that it would hurt and that she would have to take care of them (clean the ears three times a day, can’t change the earrings for six weeks...).

Yesterday was the big day. Kris picked her up from school early for a meeting (more on that later) and his mom came by the house so they could all go to Claire’s in the mall together. (Aww, the mall Claire’s is where I had my ears pierced many a moon ago.)

Kris said Zoe took him and his mom by the hand and drug them through the mall in her excitement. She picked out sparkly pink flower earrings, sat in Jan’s lap and only cried a bit. Then Jan helped her pick out a colorful beaded necklace-bracelet-ring ensemble.

I’m kinda bummed I missed it, but also, it was probably best. I don’t do well with needles and sharp instruments when it’s me, much less my children. I’m sure Kris’ mom did a fantastic job of cuddling, plus it’s great for the grands to be present for milestones.

The meeting Zoe had was her first with the Gadsden City School Board. There was a speech therapist and someone else. (Next time there will be a vision specialist.) Kris said she did phenomenal.

I picked the boys up from school. And while it was no ear-piercing adventure, I did let them take off their shoes and play in the rain puddles before we got in the van. Sometimes, it’s the little things.

This morning, I ushered Zoe outside for a little “you’re five!” photoshoot.

So Zoe is five. We had the party. She got a bicycle. The ear piercing was done. She took cupcakes to her class today.

The only other thing I hoped to do was write a post dedicated to her. A lovey-dovey entry as an ode to who she is today.

But I found it hard to do. That bummed me out.

Because Zoe, I am still getting to know you.

I could talk about what you do and what you say (“turn me on some music?”). But that is not the sum of you. There are all sorts of things you do and stuff you say that has nothing to do with the core of you.

I think that you are still feeling out the real you. The Zoe life that burbled inside even when you lived in a place where you had to do without — it was never lost. You are impossibly strong of spirit.

Perhaps the most compelling gift is something I found out today: China released another shared list on your birthday and for the first time in years, there are kids from Huainan on it.

May many more of your first friends find loving forever homes.

Zoe's bouncehouse birthday

2011-09-26T14:23:00.000-05:00

Dear Imagine That Birthday Club, let me count the ways I love you.

I love that I didn’t have to clean my house for my kid’s birthday party. I love that the only food I had to bring was a cake/cookie and a couple bags of snack mix. I love that you thought of balloons. I totally would have flaked on balloons.

I love that for nine kids, they got to bounce for an hour and then have ice cream and juice boxes and it cost less than Ben’s birthday party at my house. Where I had to clean. And forgot to get plates and forks and napkins ready.

Yay, birthday club!

The only (and I mean only) complaint I have? Is that the invitations you provided are kinda lame. But understand that I am a graphic designer, so of course I’m gonna harsh on something like that.

When I called to book Zoe’s party and they offered a 10am to noon party, I was like “perfect.” That would get them home, bounced out, in time for a midday nap. It’s something I should keep in mind for future Zoe parties. Morning or Sunday afternoon... cause Zoe was born during football season. Friday nights and Saturday afternoon/evenings will be problematic for brothers and dads.

Zoe and the boys bounced their little hearts out.

When they were all exhausted and thirsty from bouncing? It was time for “cake” and ice cream.

I think the pinnacle of Zoe’s excitement was watching her daddy light the candles. Because it was time.

Time for her to stand in front her birthday candles. Time for the song to end in her name.

And then there were presents. Dolls, stickers, clothes, electronics, a teddy bear and new shoes.

Cash fell asleep on the way home, but we let Ben and Zoe play for a bit. I felt sure they would have a major tantrum if they were put down for a nap immediately upon returning home.

Ben commandeered the collection of Littlest Pet Shop animals, and Zoe let him. I dumped them in an empty shoe box and let him take them to nap with. We collected the rest of Zoe’s haul into a gift bag and she placed it lovingly on the rocker as she crawled into bed.

On Sunday, Kris’ parents gave her a bicycle. Kris and I went to Academy and got her a pink helmet and some elbow and knee pads. She is already showing more interest in her bike than Ben has in the one he’s had for over a year.

Ben got a new helmet, too, because the K4 class will start learning to roller skate next month. He was mad that we didn’t get elbow and knee pads for him, too. “Start learning to ride your bike and I will get pads for you.” He went and got on the bike, but couldn’t even muster to care.

While were at Academy, I needed something for Cash. There were clearance scooters. Done.

“My skateboard!” he called it. Dude, how do you even know what a skateboard is?

So, a fun weekend. I may have broken the bank between the party and accessories. Shopper's remorse aside, all is well.

Preschool photography

2011-09-23T15:41:00.000-05:00

A sampling of photos taken by the twins:

A compelling work of genius, no?

Chipmunk, deceased

2011-09-22T15:05:00.000-05:00

The kids LOVE to go to the Jones' house. Ben made a beeline for the creek. Zoe pretty much attached herself to Jimmy like a mollusk. The apex of excitement for the evening was finding a dead chipmunk.

He was treated to a burial at sea, courtesy Jimmy.

I do not condone your violence, but I salute your logic

2011-09-21T11:01:00.000-05:00

Kris picked up the kids yesterday so that I could go visit GJ after work. When I got home, I was informed that Ben had gotten into a fight at school.

"What kind?" I asked.

"Punching," Kris answered.

"Wow, what happened?"

"Well, Ben says that one of the kids 'tried to betackle me, and I didn't want to be betackled."

"Yeah," I responded. "I wouldn't either."

Looking to the future about questions of the past

2011-09-20T15:14:00.000-05:00

Before Zoe came home, I used Research-China.Org to obtain a copy of her finding ad. I saw that they also offered a “Birth Parent Search Analysis.” I ordered one of those in August.

I don’t find it likely that we will ever find Zoe’s birth parents. I ordered the analysis because, as the site points out, we lacked a “view of the ‘forest.’” From the report, I now know how many kids were found the year Zoe was born and have a second opinion that she was likely born in Huainan.

When you know so little about one’s origins, I figure every nugget counts for something.

Shortly after I ordered the analysis, Research-China began a Yahoo Group for China birth parent searching and I got the invite to join. Sure, why not?

It can be heavy reading, but I’m glad to do it. I gain perspective. (Laura’s prescription for an ignorance ailment? Scads of reading.)

I’m learning that when adoptive parents question Chinese sources, the Chinese are like “why do you want to know? This is in the past. Look to the future.”

That makes sense to me. Chinese civilization is ancient. They are well-rooted. They look to the future.

The United States is a baby nation, and we all came from somewhere else. We constantly look to our past for clues.

Zoe is Chinese-born, but she will be raised as an American. And if I know anything from the one zillion questions she asks me every day, I know she is inquisitive. Girl is gonna have questions about her past.

Not as assumed

2011-09-19T15:15:00.000-05:00

If Kris makes the Saturday grocery run, he usually takes one of the kids with him. This week, it was Cash.

A Frito Lay delivery truck was in the parking lot when they arrived. Cash LOVES big trucks, so Kris took him over to say "hi, big truck." The Frito Lay guy let Cash pick out a snack.

Some lady inside the store wryly asked if the bag of chips was what Kris was letting Cash have for breakfast. He got to tell her that, no, breakfast was scrambled eggs and blueberry pancakes. (Kris made the breakfast, too. If you're like "Laura, what do YOU do?" Well, I tell Kris what my food ideas are and then I disappear into the laundry room all weekend and voila, we have clean clothes come Monday.)

Cash came home covered in Frito Lay dust and very happy.

I am unhappy about the state of mess at the Catoe abode. Constant laundry, dishes, cooking, picking up toys... keeps chaos at bay. But what of dusting? Vacuuming? Sorting the piles of family detritus that amass on flat surfaces? Laundering the small rug that my grandmother's dog peed on?

There is something inherent in us as a human race that makes us love all things new, and despise deterioration. It’s as if we knew things were intended to last–to last in an incorruptible state–and so the constant decay that surrounds us is frustrating at some moments, and downright heart-breaking at others. (Life of a Pilgrim)

Ah, well. We get done what we can.

Saturday was Sophia's 5th birthday party. It is the first one I took no photos at. I took the camera, of course, but it never made it out of the bag.

Sophia's party was proof-positive that all my children still need a midday nap. The party was from noon to two, and by the time we got them home, it was bedlam.

There was a low-vision event in Birmingham on Saturday. We wanted to take Zoe. But it began in the afternoon and went into the evening. The event wasn't geared toward kids not yet potty trained, and we had nowhere to stow Cash.

It's the kind of thing that before bringing our daughter home, I was like "oh, of course we will take her to such things!" And then there is the reality of day-to-day living with three small children.

Would Zoe benefit from a low-vision event? Yeah, maybe. She might even meet another kid with albinism.

But she's 4. She works better with a nap and a situation she knows how to read. Like a trampoline.

My biggest goal for the event was for her to get a chance to hang with Charli Strawn a bit. So since the event was off, we just had a Strawn-Catoe playdate instead. Free. Local. The kids had a blast.

And then we took them for Mexican food. We even got to eat outside.

When we got home, Kris had a voicemail about GJ. He went to stay with her until visiting hours ended. She had tremors while he was there. We don't know why. She is being sent home this Friday.

Ides of September

2011-09-15T16:44:00.000-05:00

I've been to visit GJ a couple of times at her rehab place. She is still praying to die. Wondering what she did in life to deserve this. In pain. Not eating. Trapped in a place, a body, an existence that she is ready to leave.

As I walk to my van, it feels good just to know my legs still support me. As I take in the air, I revel in being outside. And then I go home to these faces.

"I have more on the other side than I do here."

Yes, GJ. I know.

What do you say?

"It sucks" seems inappropriate.

But true.

Framing the narrative

2011-09-14T15:07:00.000-05:00

Zoe has been home for more than eight months. Her English is stellar, and I think her attachment to us is good. (Last night, I made her really mad – long story – but after she was done being mad *at me* she came to me for comfort.)

Some conversation points have begun to pop up. Mentions of China and "did I grow in your tummy" (that latter question was directed to her dad, hee).

I know I want to be honest with Zoe. Tell her what I know, what I don't know. I stumble on what is age-appropriate, on answering the questions she is really asking, etc.

I am never sure what concepts my kids grasp.

On the way home from Kris' parents Sunday night, we detoured by the pharmacy to pick up a prescription for me. The kids starting asking questions, as this is an unusual stop for them.

I was open to answering questions because the next day, I had a dentist appointment. I had a lot of cavities as a child and beneath one of the fillings, I had a crack in my tooth. Eating cold stuff was causing shooting pains; the dentist would fix it. The prescription was for a single valium to lessen the anxiety of getting either a new filling or a crown. (Yay, it was only a new filling!)

I don't want my kids to be as afraid of going to the dentist as I was as a kid. And I want them to take better care of their teeth than I did. I even hope they learn sooner than I did that suffering a small pain (say, a vaccination shot or a new dental filling) is preferable to long-term suffering (like whooping cough or wincing through an ice cream cone).

But dear God, explaining to them that I had a cavity when I was a kid and now a hole in my tooth but I'm okay and the dentist will fix it?

Zoe peppered me with questions. Ben wanted to know if I would get a surprise after the procedure. Cash kept asking if I was okay.

Do I think they understood any of it? Will they remember the connection? Who knows.

And that was something concrete. Cavity led to filling, time led to problem with filling, dentist fixed it with new filling.

How do I explain to Zoe how she ended up in an orphanage?

When she asks to go back to China, does she mean permanently? To visit? Or is she really asking "how secure is this gig? when can I let my guard down that I am here to stay?"

I just don't know.

What she sees

2011-09-13T15:19:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, another mom to a Chinese daughter with albinism talked about how she has trouble with faces.

Cheeky can not differentiate between faces. IE, when she sees someone, she decides who they are based on voice, carriage, hair color and skin tone rather than facial features.

After reading that, I made a point to notice if the same seemed true of Zoe, and it does.

For example, at church one day, Cash fell asleep while Kris was holding him, so Kris laid down on a couch. Zoe looked at the legs and asked me who it was. She didn't want to get all up in the face of a stranger. But the music was loud and she'd hadn't seen her Daddy take to the couch, so she didn't know it was him. Once I told her "that's Daddy; Cash fell asleep" she felt comfortable getting close enough to Kris to see who it was.

A moment later, my dad walked past her and kind of did a dance move to mimic Zoe. I thought "it's loud; she can only tell somebody is walking past and interacting with her - she may have no idea who." So I knelt and said "isn't Granddad silly?"

When a person is blind, it is expected that she won't know who she is speaking to, but when a person is visually impaired, things are different. People do not know there is a visual impairment, and even if they do, they can't understand the extent.

There are times that Zoe adapts so well (or masks so well) that even I cannot tell the extent of her vision impairment. I feel pretty sure if her mom is missing it, so will others.

Yesterday, an airplane was flying over our house, leaving a trail in the sky. Cash is so happy to see planes go overhead.

"Look, Cash!"

Soon, Ben was looking too.

And Zoe looked to the sky and I knew she couldn't see it. Too far away. And I felt bad about pointing out the plane.

I think that over time, people who know Cheeky will begin to understand how difficult it is for her to differentiate faces. Those closest to her will do what we do, give little cues to help with identification or just out and out say who they are before they begin speaking.

Over time, perhaps we'll learn when to give cues and if it's okay to point out to the boys something Zoe can't see.

We're awake; let's play

2011-09-12T09:44:00.000-05:00

4:15am. I'm awake because... I'm getting older?

I hear a thunk and a cry. Did Cash fall off the bed? I go to investigate.

The boys are both in Ben's bed. Cash is huddled up next to the wall. Neither of them is awake. I crawl into Cash's bed, knowing they will wake early and hoping I can keep them corralled and Kris and Zoe can sleep.

Shortly before 6am, I hear a lot of rustling. (200 thread count sheets rustle like paper.) I can't see who is rolling around, but soon they are both awake.

The room is dark, lit only by a fish-themed night light.

"You want to play?" Ben asks in the dark.

"Uh-huh," Cash affirms.

"You want the light on?"

"Uh-huh."

Ben slides off the bed, crosses to the chest of drawers and pulls the chain that Cash cannot quite reach just yet and a fluorescent bulb begins to brighten.

Cash slides off the bed and approaches.

"Bright, Ben," he complains and holds his hand to his eyes.

Ben sits down, finds an animal: a grey plastic horse.

Cash finds two Hot Wheels cars.

They begin to play.

Soon, they notice me and soon after that they start making too much noise and we go downstairs.

It's a shame I was up so early, but a nice way to start the day.

Autumn has arrived

2011-09-09T15:38:00.000-05:00

Well, it's Friday and GJ is not yet at a "rehab facility." She is STILL at the hospital. Ain't my decision to make, y'all.

But instead of trekking over to her house three times a day to let her dog out, we got the dog groomed and brought her over to our house.

Autumn (that'd be the dog) was like a rockstar that first night.

She is a sweet dog. She has peed the floor only once so far.

If she is sitting down, Cash loves her. If she is moving, he screams in fear.

Yeeeeah. Last week, the neighbor was walking her feisty, young dog and he ran at Cash, terrifying the poor kid.

Autumn is insanely old — she belonged to my uncle Richard and HE died in the late 90s... how hella old is this dog???

So, of course, she won't be attacking Cash. But her collar jangles and I think maybe the sound reminds him of the other dog lunging for him. Hmm, maybe I should remove her tags?

Insanity aside, the kids seem to like having a dog around.

Great.

Pink and princesses

2011-09-08T14:09:00.000-05:00

I hope Zoe remembers her years in China. I hope she wants to talk about them someday.

If not, I have some photos. I have the stories of others. I will postulate.

From photos and tales, I gather that the kids shared communal clothing. Zoe wouldn’t have had clothes of her own. Girls would be dressed in clothes made for boys; boys would be given clothes made for girls. Whatever was clean and sort of fit.

I have a photo where Zoe’s nails are painted. A nanny, a teacher... somebody took the time.

I don’t know what Chinese culture tells little girls to be. I don’t know what orphanage culture allows girls to be.

I know Zoe is girly.

That first month home, when we took her to the IAC and they had to draw her blood? The nurse offered her an array of bandages to choose from. Zoe, unfamiliar with being given such a choice, pointed at the neon green tape.

Six months later, when she came home from her follow-up appointment, her arm was wrapped in neon pink.

She had learned, six months in to being an American Girl, that pink is the thing.

[Kris and I are equal-opportunity color enthusiasts. Yay to the pink... and purple, and blue and green... my guess is the girls at school showed her the way.]

We learned early on that Zoe likes skirts and dresses and new shoes. She likes dance, but maybe it’s just because of the outfits.

Over the summer, I asked her one Sunday night if she wanted to wear her new outfit to school the next day. She'd worn it that day, but it was still clean. She shook her head no.

“It’s not pretty.”

(The outfit was a tank and matching pants in a blue and yellow print. I think not pretty = it was neither pink nor a dress.)

Before we had a girl in the house, shoe-related meltdowns were unheard of. I recall a time or two that I wanted Ben to wear a certain pair because it matched his clothes better and he didn’t care about matching, but that was it.

With a gal on board, it is another story.

Monday morning, Zoe wanted to wear her pink sparkly shoes. But Kris felt the ends of them and realized her toes were crammed inside.

“Sweetheart, those are too small.” (Yeah, truth about girls: we will wear shoes that hurt our feet if we like the way they look.)

Zoe was cool with wearing her new pink shoes, but I was not.

“Those are canvas and it’s gonna rain all day. I’d rather they not be ruined the very first day she wears them.”

So we got her to wear her light-up shoes. No small feat.

Dutifully, I went this week and got her some new sparkly shoes. Purple, since her new canvas shoes are pink. (Really, if all your shoes are pink, what if they clash when your pants, too, are pink?)

Over the weekend, I’d bought her some new fall socks. I got Cash ones with a football, Ben ones with animals.

“And Zoe likes pink.” So she got the set with polka dots, stripes and plain ol’ pink.

When I showed her the new shoes last night (“Mommy! I LOVE my new shoes!”), we couldn’t tell if they were snug, so I sent her upstairs to retrieve a pair of socks. She came down with the new ones, of course, and wanted to wear the pink pair, natch.

Zoe’s excitement over her new shoes made Ben upset that HE didn’t have new shoes. (We had the reverse situation months ago when Ben outgrew his light-up shoes and I bought him a new pair. Look, kids, you want new shoes at the same time? Coordinate your foot growth.)

I diverted Ben by taking him to the laptop to show him a dinosaur costume I’d found online. “Is this what you want to be for Halloween?” Once the costume was decided, he asked to watch videos. I pulled up the YouTube playlist of Lion King songs I made last summer. Zoe and her new shoes came to join us. Cash, too, rattling the empty Childrens Place bag.

When Kiara (Lion King 2) began to sing, Zoe turned to me in glee. “Mommy! A princess!”

Yep, we got us a girly girl.

Going to the N'useum

2011-09-07T15:04:00.000-05:00

For the last couple of weeks, we have been in Major Decision Mode at Casa de Catoe. And also, decision-mode-adjacent. (Remember when we used to be ‘hood adjacent? Ah, the good ol’ days.)

Decision-mode-adjacent is when the ~~nursing home~~ rehab facility calls and wants to make decisions about continuing care and one gets to explain that we do not have power of attorney, her son must make those decisions.

It can also mean making an effort to be connected to friends or family that are the receiving end of major decisions.

We’ve been in the midst of a decision that others couldn’t make for us: should we move the Moxie?

A great space is available. Beautiful, bigger, still downtown. But it would cost more each month in rent and possibly utilities. There would be upfront cost to move, which we do not have. It would need to be borrowed and paid back. We would need another stylist and possibly a manicurist.

It could be awesome. Or not.

Kris decided (and I agreed) not to move. It’s a relief and a disappointment. But at least it’s decided.

In the downtime of weighing hard decisions (or just being witness to them), I have been throwing mental energy at smaller, happier decisions: what should Ben and Cash be for Halloween? Should we hit up the grands to watch them overnight as usual or host our costume party the weekend before Halloween?

Should we take the kids to this year’s zombie parade or look for a babysitter? If we take them, do we do festive attire or just be brain food?

Should I get sparkly silver shoes to replace the pink ones Zoe outgrew or something different? Do I want to get brown shoes for Cash with laces or without?

Decisions gotta be made, y’all.

I am glad we decided to take the kids to the Anniston Natural History Museum on Monday. (And glad that Dad and Patsy came with since they missed the zoo.)

Ben was stoked to be “going to the Newseum.”

Feels like the beginning (of the end)

2011-09-06T13:10:00.000-05:00

My grandmother, GJ, will be 97 on Halloween.

She moved to Gadsden when I was in elementary school because her only daughter, my mom, lived in Gadsden.

GJ thought my mom would take care of her in old age.

Then my mom was diagnosed with heart disease and Type II diabetes and (unofficially) muscular dystrophy. And my grandmother outlived her only daughter, just as she had already outlived her husband and three of her four sons.

The remaining son is in Florida.

GJ moved downtown in 2005 to be closer to Kris and I.

Today, she moves to McGuffey Health Care Center. For “rehab.” She has a compression fracture in her back and possibly a broken rib.

Ostensibly, she will be at McGuffey for a 20-day stay. But I question, of course, if she will really get to go home again. And, if so, who will watch her. Because while she maintains that she does not need “a sitter,” she’s wrong.

When an old lady pulled out of the McGuffey parking lot in 2001 and totaled my Sentra, I referred to the place as “a nursing home.”

Kris and I have been careful to now refer to it as a “rehab facility.” It would kill GJ’s spirit to be sent to a nursing home.

She would have been moved yesterday if it hadn’t been a holiday. Since she was still at the hospital, Kris went to visit her.

It is frightful what she forgets now. (She recalled Pat Pickle visiting her on Friday and taking her walker home for her, but she could not remember who the girl with him was. Wow, that would be Jaimie, who GJ has known and loved for years.)

Kris came home and said GJ asked that we pray for her.

Because she wants to die.

Years following years steal something every day;
At last they steal us from ourselves away.

Alexander Pope

No Biking in the House (Without a Helmet)

2011-09-02T10:54:00.000-05:00

After we came home with Zoe and I got back into the groove of checking my Google Reader, I followed one of Tonggu Momma’s links somewhere and ended up reading an old article by Melissa Fay Greene. (2001’s The Family Mobile at the New York Times, a.k.a. my employer)

The article was about a family who had adopted more than a dozen times. I was struggling to integrate ONE adopted child into our family. But the article was a decade old, was there an update on this family somewhere?

In Googling for them, I found more links to Melissa Fay Greene. I found Do I Love Him Yet? at AdoptiveFamilies.com.

When I found myself weeping in the laundry room over being forced to put my children’s sheets on the interloper’s bed (because, at age four and a half, he was wetting the bed), I knew I was in trouble.

Greene was describing a mom who had post-adoption depression. But as I read further down the page, and took in the accompanying photos, I realized no, Greene was describing herself. She had post-adoption depression after bringing home a 4-year-old from Bulgaria.

Post-adoption depression never crossed my mind. I didn’t know that it was quite common among adoptive mothers of older children. The reasons vary. But surely it is, in part, because adults are hard-wired to attach to wide-eyed, helpless babies; a fit-throwing, non-English-speaking, snarling Bulgarian four-year-old does not, at first glimpse, invite adoration. The crucial period of mother-infant courtship is missed as sorely by adult women as it is by the kids who suddenly parachute into their lives with their boots on.

I don’t think I had full-blown post-adoption depression, but I certainly had the post-adoption blues. And I identified with Greene’s feelings in the article. I sought out more of her writing.

Via MelissaFayGreene.com, I learned that after Jesse (her son from Bulgaria), Greene went on to adopt four children from Ethiopia.

I found enormous comfort in that. She obviously had a rough time with the transition and yet, she had gone on to do it again. And again. And again.

So of course I had to read No Biking in the House. It tells the story of how they came to be a family with nine children.

It is a great book, and I am glad to have read it. At least twice, I laughed so hard I cried. (When Sol turns out to be so good at skipping stones that he accidentally kills a duck and when the family hamster unexpectedly gives birth to ten babies and then dies... exactly at the moment Greene is supposed to be leaving the house to attend a close friend’s wedding. If that doesn’t sum up the insanity that is family life, I don’t know what does.)

This mothering gig is hard. It keeps me afloat to stay connected to the tales of other mothers. Adoptive moms and moms of many share things that resonate with me. I’m grateful for it.

Kristen over at Rage Against the Minivan had an unexpected chance to evaluate how far she’s come since last summer.

The thing about anxiety is that it’s really impossible to see a way out. During that time, I often felt like this was the way life was going to be, forever and ever amen. It’s hard to be objective when you are in it, but it’s also hard to take stock when you are out of it. For whatever reason, that little moment on Wednesday felt like a gift. Because even though it brought up all these ugly feelings, it also reminded me of just how far we’ve come. It was shocking to be reminded of those feelings because they just aren’t present in my life anymore.

Last month, I started to work on the Blurb book that will eventually be The Preschool Ben. When I got to January 2011, there were not many photos.

Anyone who knows me can vouch that I am taking photos constantly, and when I’m not, it’s an indication that things are not going well.

Kristen was under hotel arrest due to home flooding last summer. In January, we Catoes were under house arrest due to snow.

It was cold. The days were short. The boys had missed us so much. Zoe’s world had been turned upside down.

It was not a fun time. Most of the photos I have of January are from the day it snowed. Working on Ben’s book, I couldn’t get over how happy he looks.

Two miserable parents, two clingy brothers and a “a fit-throwing, non-English-speaking, [Chinese] four-year-old” — smiling in the snow.

Thank God for that grace.

A visit to the park

2011-09-01T16:25:00.000-05:00

The humidity wasn't deadly yesterday, and the kids had been well-behaved on their first day split into K3/K4. So after dinner, we took them to the park.

Kris spent most of the time there on the phone with my mom's cousin Bill. GJ is back in the hospital. Change is in the air.