Wicked

My family took me to Denny's for Mother's day. I'd like to say that the decor was beautiful and that the food was delicious... The carnation the hostess handed me when I walked in ended up smeared in egg yolk. I still took it home but it never made it out of the car. I discovered it (the rotting egg smell lead me to it) under my driver's seat, a few days ago.

The Denny's setting was picked primarily for the novelty (some good friends of ours were going there with their young daughter and asked us to tag along) and secondarily, because we knew that we could take Makena and not lose too much sleep over her trashing the place. Of course, bucking convention, Makena sat politely the entire meal and only left her seat once. She didn't scream or throw her food about. She quietly dunked grapes in jelly, wiped her hands and colored on a sheet of paper. Go figure. She gave me the gift of good behavior. Jack made me a beautiful card and coupons that were good for: cleaning his room, laughing at my jokes, 20% off his allowance (for a limited time only!) and a breakfast in bed. EM gave me tickets to see Wicked. Wicked! And then as I was mucking the horse corral later that morning, thinking my special day was over, EM reminded me that he was taking me to a Phil Lesh concert. I was psyched. Not because I was a Dead head (I'm a Dead Head's wife,) but because it meant an evening out. As I was getting ready, I was instructed to go easy on the make-up. I think EM didn't want me stick out among the aging hippie crowd. Of course I didn't listen to him and slapped on some security eye-liner and self-esteem mascara and left the house feeling good about myself. The shower also helped.(Me, before the make-over.)

We had so much fun.

Moreover since the writing of this post began, we went to see Wicked at the Pantages in Los Angeles. It was AWESOME. We took Jack with us and he was blown away by the show. I felt bad that we had waited until he was almost ten years old to expose him to musical theater, until then his only reference had been the few school plays he had acted in. His mouth was open the entire time. I don't think he knew anything like this was possible. We had ridiculously amazing seats which helped him connect. I do know that he will probably look back on that evening with us as the starting point in his love affair with the stage. He has already asked us to take him to another musical so I will keep my eyes peeled on the calendar section of our paper and hopefully select a show that will keep him engaged and excited.

What an amazing Mother's Day--that stretched into a Mother's Month. And to think it all started at Denny's over a breakfast of Country fried steak. Now if I could only get rid the stench from my car everything would be perfect.

Is- a loved
PS Don't forget the children in China. www.halfthesky.org

Astrocamp

Jack, and ninety-five percent of his school's fourth grade, left for a three-day field trip to Astrocamp in the San Bernardino mountains. It was an amazing experience for him and his friends, filled with days of science, star gazing and rocket launching fun.

Jack was so excited in the days leading up to this adventure. He took great care in planning what he was going to pack and wear for the road trip. He asked me about fifty times if his cow alarm clock had made it into his suitcase. He was in charge of waking up his bunk mates and thought that the sound of a cow "mooing" would be the right mood setter.

Jack is not good at saying his goodbyes and would have preferred that I make a rolling stop so that he could jump out of the car and pretend that I didn't exist. I would have obliged him but he had too many cumbersome bags to tote. Some were simply too big to throw out a window. And besides, there were a very large number of (caring) parents hanging out with their children who would have been a witness to this. So after I parked and unloaded everything, he insisted on lugging all of his belongings to the drop-off (in a show of independence). Kissing him goodbye was out of the question. I did that while were still at home in the driveway.

I did, however, set my foot down and made him pose with two of his classmates (Sophie and Skyler) before taking off. I have blogging obligations, after all.

I know that "mother of the year" points were deducted off my score sheet for leaving before the buses had even arrived but I had very specific instructions from my nine-year old and I followed them to the letter. EM stayed at home with Makena who was still asleep when it was time for us to leave.

Jack had a blast. We all missed him while he was gone. He was so exhausted when he returned that he mistakenly allowed me to hug him in public without protesting.

I was thrilled.

Isabelle

PS Please consider making a donation to Half the Sky to help the young victims of the Sichuan earthquake.

Shaken

I didn't sleep last night. I woke up at three in the morning and stayed awake for the next hour and a half. My thoughts kept straying to Chengdu and Chongqing and Sichuan and all the people who lost their lives in the earthquake. I worried that Makena's orphanage had been hit. I started wondering about where her biological family might live and whether they had been in harms way. It felt very depressing and hopeless.

The worst was reading about the schools that collapsed like houses of cards and finding out that as many as eight hundred kids in one school alone might have perished. I thought about the one child policy. I thought about all the families who had lost their only child and who might have (at one time) had a second child but been forced to leave him, or her, somewhere to be found (and hopefully adopted). I thought of them and how now they had none. Their hopes and dreams lost in a matter of seconds.

Insomnia thrived on my worries.

I woke up this morning to read e-mails telling me that Qianjiang had been spared and that help was on its way to orphanages in the Sichuan province. I felt relieved but the fate of the victims out there still haunts me.

If you are inclined to help in a small or great way, please visit the Half the Sky site. They have a trusty infrastructure operating n China and have been authorized to set up a relief fund to help all the children that have now been affected by this act of God. The money will pay for food, medical assistance, short and long term fostering and many other things. And not just for the children in the Half the Sky programs.

A little will go a long way.

You can donate to the fund by calling Half the Sky (+1 510 525 3377) or at
one of two dedicated sites online:
Global Giving: http://www.globalgiving.com/pr/2100/proj2086a.html
or
Half the Sky website:
http://give.halfthesky.org/prostores/servlet/Categories?category=Children's+Earthquake+Fund

If you would like a Canadian tax receipt, please donate at
http://www.canadahelps.org/CharityProfilePage.aspx?CharityID=s86248

Thanks.

Isabelle

Paris

The last leg on our whirlwind "mommy and me" adventure was an afternoon spent in Paris to connect with my jet-setting girlfriend Dominique and her cousin, Caroline. Dominique flew into into Paris (from Montreal) for the weekend to celebrate her birthday. The girls met us at the Montparnasse train station and helped me with my bags, stroller and child, as we navigated the streets headed for the Luxembourg Gardens, where our hotel was situated. The Euro being what it was, arriving in the afternoon with only a few shopping hours left, was the safest thing I could do for my pocket book. Traveling with Makena also curtailed any spending.(Dominique, holding Makena, and Caroline at Cafe St-Sulpice.)

(Dominique and Makena in Seattle, the first time they met.)

I cut my daughter loose in the Luxembourg Gardens for an hour and a half of pigeon chasing and pebble collecting, which left her spent enough to hang out with us at an outdoor cafe for an additional hour (the apple juice and Pixter helped.) We had fun sipping wine and studying the Yves St-Laurent storefront from afar. Later, we found a little Italian place in the sixth where we sat down for dinner. Makena ate a huge bowl of pasta and then hung out with a street cat -- the feline variety, not the beret toting, Gitane smoking, art student -- until we headed home around 11PM.

Rising at the crack of dawn to get to the airport in time was brutal but we made it and I was lucky enough to get seated on the (11 hour) return flight next to a man who had four children. None of whom were traveling with him. Needless to say, he was very understanding about Makena and even laughed when she took to screaming for no reason -- other than because she knew it was flipping me out. I fed her bonbons.

EM met us at the airport and Jack returned from school shortly after we got home. He made me dinner! He cooked it all by himself. Apparently, while I was gone, EM taught him how to cook eggs, omelets, bacon and pasta. I was so proud of him. (Why couldn't I think of that?) He made me a pasta scramble with noodles, cheese, avocado, sausage and roast beef. It was delicious. We ate the whole bowl and then I headed off to bed and left Makena with them so that they could spend some quality time with her.

The rest is a blur.

Au revoir et a bientot.

Is - in need of a vacation

Training

Papi saw us off at the train station for the next leg of our trip, visiting a girlfriend and her family near La Rochelle (halfway up to Paris) on the Atlantic coast.

Makena has always enjoyed the Thomas shows on TV and one of her most favorite books is "Chugga Chugga Choo Choo," so she was excited to go on a train ride until she actually saw it pull into the station. I could tell that the sight of it impressed her and terrified her because she got very quiet and wouldn't take her eyes off it.
Nevertheless, Makena boarded without resistance and smiled seeing Papi wave goodbye to her. I have to admit that I was relieved to leave Pau with my clothes still fitting me. The amount of food, namely cheese and foie gras and wine that I ingested was nauseating (because I have no self-control). I can't believe my liver stood up to the assault but it did (thank you, mon petit foie). Makena on the other hand, having no say in this traveling adventure, decided to reclaim control by NOT eating (and not sleeping). She's not into bread so baguette meant nothing. She had yogurt, bottles of milk and strawberries, with the occasional cracker as sustenance. But the "piece de resistance" were these drinkable packs of apple sauce. The most brilliant packaging of mess-free kid food I have yet to come across. Why do we not have these in the States? Why, I ask?
Probably because the little yellow cap might be considered a chocking hazard... Still, I think the cleanliness outweighs the health risk.
The portable DVD (with the additional eight-hour battery pack) and a Pixter were my babysitters.
And then we finally arrived at my girlfriend's vacation home and it was paradise. The grounds were spectacular. The wine was refreshing and the souffle was light and fluffy.
They train the branches of their apple trees to grow straight along a wall -- which makes it easier to pick when it bears fruit.
Makena only had eyes for Diego. Partly because he was so charming and partly because she could say his name from watching the Go Diego, go shows.
She let Ines stick flowers in her hair.
But left to her own devices, Makena preferred her hoody, bottle and glasses. (Future rap star?) Chic, chick.

Is - a - looking for Spandex

Peace

For as long as I have had Makena in my life, I have been haunted by not knowing where exactly my mother's ashes were finally laid to rest. I needed a visual to bring me some closure and peace of mind and I finally got it. Although I traveled all the way to France with one suitcase, I had a cargo load full of emotional baggage I had dragged along with me for the ride and it was truly psychically exhausting. The day after we landed in Pau, Papi, Mimes and Francois (my cousin's husband) took Makena and me on a pilgrimage to Bizes, in the Pyrenees. I purchased flowers along the way and we had lunch at another cousin's home.

Makena fell asleep shortly after lunch, Papi passed out on a bench and I stood there twiddling my thumbs for a bit wondering whether I should wake either of them to accompany me and then I decided that this should be private.I was scared. I really didn't know how this expedition was going to play itself out so it was with some trepidation that I made my way over to this very old cemetery. When I finally located her plot it was almost anticlimactic. I laid the flowers on her patch of eternity and stood there for a moment, crying.

In the distance I could see the snow swept mountains, the pastures of grazing sheep and the old tombstones and it was perfect. Mom was home, where she ultimately wanted to be, surrounded in death as in life by what she treasured: beauty and family.

When I returned to the house, Makena was still asleep. I laid down next to her and held her.

Is - looking to the future

Fried in France

This is why I am insane and why I should be committed. I never stop to think about what the consequences of traveling with a toddler on transcontinental flights are I just pull the trigger and shoot. Obviously, I seem to recover long enough from these antics to think up another one. The latest, going to Pau in France to visit my mother's grave. Since there was no question of leaving Makena with EM and Jack for ten days, I had to take her.

We traveled on a non-stop direct (10 hour) night flight to Paris. Makena woke up two hours into it and decided it would be a good time to scream with pure glee. I pulled out the Barney disc and DVD and pushed, play. That lasted half-an hour. My eyes were burning from the lack of sleep and my nerves were on edge because she was keeping half the plane awake. It wasn't until the Danish-Swedish-Slavic (very blond) woman in the row in front of me stood up in her seat and turned around to yell at Makena, that I lost it. I told her to back off, that I was handling it and that if she uttered another work in Mak's direction, I would do NOTHING to stop her. I told her to sit down and started feeding Makena bonbons. That worked.

The stroller I gate-checked in Los Angeles was not there for me when we landed in Paris. I had two pieces of carry-on, a pillow and Makena to get off the plane and onto a shuttle to get us to the terminal and go through customs and then on a tram to another terminal and then run a kilometer or two to get to the next gate and through security again to get to the domestic wing of Charles De Gaule. I made it, bought myself an over-priced Evian and boarded the subsequent flight. I won't mention my lack of deodorant, my sweaty clothes or the layer of sticky dirt smeared across Makena's face. But since this was France, nobody noticed.

An hour and a half later, we landed in Pau. I had trouble getting my luggage because Makena kept running away from me and trying to jump on the conveyor belt. The French were aghast. Nevertheless, I persevered and my cousin was there to greet me and take me to our hotel. Makena fell asleep on the way. I laid her down on the bed, had a beer, fell asleep and woke up at 3 in the morning when Makena was done with her "nap" and then decided it would be appropriate to stay awake until 6AM. We miraculously fell back asleep until I was woken up at noon and told that I was late for lunch.So I crawled out of bed, showered and called a cab. We finally arrived at my mother's cousin's house where we were greeted by Papi (who had made the trip up from Grenada, Spain,) Mimes, my mom's best friend and cousin, and a lovely glass of Port. "Appero," as they like to call it. I drank it. The rest is a blur.

Is a - jet lagged

Truck free

We are home. After seven months away, the house has finally been rebuilt and following two weeks of unpacking and nesting, things are settling down. Yeah. So, of course, now is the perfect time to throw a little disruption into this semblance of routine we were all getting used to because I leave for France in less than forty-eight hours to meet up with Papi in Pau (which is at the foot of the Pyrenees on the Atlantic side) and with Makena as my traveling companion. I can't think of a more exciting trip than being cloistered on a plane with my little princess for twelve hours and follow that up with another hour and a half flight south.Ever since my family chose to relocate my mother's ashes to a family plot in the middle of mountainous French nowhere while I was in China adopting Makena, I've been haunted by the fact that I didn't have a visual on where my mother was finally laid to rest -- not to mention the lack of notice so that I could attend the memorial. But happily-sadly-neurotically and joyfully, I am checking this off on the things I've needed to do to bring a bit of added healing and closure to my life so that I can fully focus on the future.

Truck out -- check.
Visit mom -- check (almost).
Give Makena consistency -- ugh... well...ugh.

I won't post while I am away (no kidding) because I chose to use the space my laptop would take up in my carry-on for a portable DVD player (with an eight-hour battery pack,) a Pixter, a gazillion Babybug magazines, art supplies and two cases of Altoids (her candy of choice). I'll throw in a diaper and a change of clothes (for me) for good measure.

I will spend six days in Pau before heading halfway back to Paris to visit a girlfriend and her kids (an hour from Bordeaux) and then ultimately hook up with one of my oldest friends to celebrate her birthday in Paris. I'll be staying across from the Luxembourg gardens (6th) so that Makena can have a traffic-free spot to run around in and terrorize French pigeons, possibly drink toxic toxic water out of rococo fountains -- who knows.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Jack, dad and Tiger (although he doesn't know it) are preparing to party for ten days. I predict that it will be high on fun and low on fiber and that they won't miss us for a minute (although I will). Just try to shower once or twice while I am gone or else I might have to come home with cologne as a gift.

A bientot,

Is - a baguette lover

PS: Jack's baseball bag is under his bed. Make sure he completes the Junior Great books packet.
PPS: Our new kitchen!

I spy

I've never been good at keeping photo albums or scrapbooks so this is pretty much it. I know that it tends to skew heavy on Makena but I feel a greater responsibility somehow. Mostly because we know so little of her past and because I get preoccupied about what she might ask me when she gets older. I'd like to have as many answers as I can for her.

With that in mind, I went on a little fact finding mission over the last couple of weeks. I joined some new adoption groups and posted a few questions that I floated out there into the universe of families who have adopted children from China. I didn't hold out much hope but I wanted to be able to say that I had tried... and a funny thing happened. I got responses. Not only that but my little question, "Did anyone travel to the Qianjiang SWI between January 1 and August 14th of 2006 and did they take photographs?" was answered and hundreds of pictures were suddenly posted -- mostly of orphanage life the year of her birth (which were equally valuable) and then (icing on the cake) a connection was made with another mother, whose daughter "Sofia," we initially suspected might have been Makena's foster sister. In any event, having reviewed the photographs she sent me, we both decided that Makena and Sofia's foster mothers were definitely related. Even Makena and Sofia's referral photographs were taken in the same location, on the same date, and wearing identical outfits (I don't have a photo to show). I realize that the orphanage must purchase clothing in bulk and assign it to the various foster families but still, I felt really excited about all this news. The biggest gift (the cherry on top of it all) was finding a photo of Makena when she was about five months old, asleep in a crib. When I caught sight of it, my heart leaped and I cried.She is pictured on the right and this would be the youngest photograph I have of her.

I am now more determined than ever to travel back to China and Qianjiang with Makena while she is young (and as often as possible), regardless of whether she has lasting memories of these visits. Because no matter, they would be chronicled and woven into the history of her life. More importantly though, there are rumors that the Qianjiang foster program is to be terminated and I don't want to miss out on the chance of meeting her foster mother or some of the nannies who may have played a role in her early up bringing.

In the meantime, while I accrue frequent flyer points to do this, I'll keep combing the internet for clues when I have the time. Because I realize that there is a bounty of information to be reeled in from the great unknown and I plan on catching me some peace of mind. As much for me as for Makena.

Is - on the hunt.

Sitting pretty

Makena had a playdate with three of her China cousins last week. Seated left to right are, Makena, Emily, Li En and Charlotte.

As much as I have been preoccupied with Makena's behavior lately, getting together with the girls' mothers gave me a lot of perspective, support and not to mention, a reality check. (I am the mother of a two year old!) Some of them are going through a similar situation. The hard part was talking and blogging about it in the first place. Now that I have, I have friends to compare notes with and I don't feel so isolated anymore.

The girls enjoyed themselves and all behaved beautifully (including La Diabla.) Makena and Li En were happy to practice their acrobatic moves. Emily was more shy and Charlotte was very chatty and observant. It was so cute.
Emily and Charlotte were the first to leave so Makena and Li En had the park to themselves. I don't know if the girls remember their adventure at the Long Beach aquarium last year but regardless, they amused each other and had a grand old (exhausting) time.
The plan is to attempt another playdate six weeks from now because that seems to be a goal that we can probably plan for and keep.

I can't wait.

Is - having a walk in the park.

Go fish

I would love to state that my children seem to have recovered from the nanny quitting and dropping out of our lives so suddenly last December but I can't. I was really angry and upset at first because I was extremely worried for Makena's mental state and I was equally distraught because of the close relationship that she had with Jack and how tearful he was when he realized that she wasn't coming back. Although we never really talked about it with him, I suspect that he had a crush on her. She could do or say no wrong, she played video games with him, he could sweet-talk her into making him Ramen noodles or buy him a cheeseburger after school (even though I had repeatedly told her not to.) She was cute, she was young and she would listen to him talk endlessly about Naruto or watch a million "Zack and Cody" episodes on the Disney channel with him. It broke my heart to see him so upset.

After spending the month of January interviewing potential candidates, we finally hired a very sweet (and seemingly stable) woman who has two children exactly the same age as mine, only in reverse. Her daughter is nine and her son is two. What I rapidly realized shortly after Mo started working for us, was how bad we had it before she came into our lives. I came to the conclusion that I had been an emotional hostage to the whims and petulance of ex-nanny because I lived in fear of the psychological consequences her departure might reek on my children. I put Mak in pre-school far ahead of schedule when the Ex changed her schedule on me suddenly and Makena did not like that at all. (Please remember that I had a truck demolish a third of my home and we have been in remodelling/reconstruction hell for the last seven months.)

I really thought that Makena would get over it and accept the new schooling environment. I figured that she would learn more vocabulary and play in peaceful coexistence with the other children. She did not. She pretty much stopped sleeping through the night, started biting one or sometimes two children a day when she was there, and fell far behind the other children in conversation. Her emotional outbursts increased. Her anger increased and her eye-contact decreased (usually when being disciplined for attacking me or Jack). So my fears were completely justified and I am now attempting to pull myself out of this emotional quagmire (and finish the remodeling of the house so that we can move back in at the end of the month) and save my family!

In an attempt to stop feeling discouraged, distressed and incompetent, I pulled Makena out of pre-school and decided to keep her at home for the next year. She has been out for a month now and her vocabulary is blooming. She sings and dances and walks around with a tiara on her head most of the day (Girlyfication, courtesy of new nanny) . I am hoping that her growing communication skills will ease her frustrations and minimize her tantrums as I continue to spend half the night in her room holding her so that she can sleep. I have been told that she will grow out of this so I am cautiously optimistic.

In the meantime, I was turned onto a book that explains things in ways I never understood them before and is which helpful to parents of children who have suffered some form of trauma (abandonment, divorce, abuse, accidents, etc.) and it covers infancy through adolescence. It is called: "Trauma through the eyes of a child" by Peter A. Levine and Maggie Kline. I'm not big on self-help books but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Jack is bouncing back. Baseball season is in full swing so Mo and I are busy chauffeuring him to his games and practices (on top of tennis, karate, and playdates). Although more guarded, he is trying to find ways to cajole and manipulate Mo to his advantage (so far, she is holding strong and Jack has lost a couple of pounds!) And, yes, I know he is over-scheduled.

Makena has had a few one-on-one playdates in an effort to socialize her and so far her guests have come through unscathed. Our next big hurdle comes next week with the move back into our house. More change for Makena. More emotional turbulence ahead.

So I'll buckle my seat belt and I'll hope for a smooth landing...

Isabelle

Rats

Our friend Joan took on the job of hosting the Chinese New Year festivities this year and we had a blast. I scoured a couple of stores looking for celebratory goodies and came upon some gems in the Halloween sale bins: Rodent noses!
The masquerade lasted all of five minutes but I did manage to snap a few pictures of Jack and his beauties: Makena, Lulu, Alice and Sally. He was really sweet and played with them without complaining. He even allowed them to chase him with swords, wands and fairy wings all evening.
Sally and Makena stole themselves away and took a minute to discover the candy I had added to the goody bags. I'll rethink that next year. Before I knew it, Makena had eaten her entire bag (and most of Jack's) and did not fall asleep on the car ride home at nine o'clock at night -- because she was "jacked" on sugar!

Thank you Joan (and family) for allowing us to trash your house. (I mean celebrate with you.) But then that should be expected since you invited a bunch of rats over for dinner...

Is - awake

Mother load

I debated long and hard about whether to take the kids to see the Chinese New Year's parade downtown and decided at the last minute to attempt it. Jack had recovered from an entire week of being sick and needed to get out of the house to break the boredom and I felt that I needed a few pictures of Makena witnessing a Chinese tradition to keep up my end of the promise I made to the officials in Chongqing -- that I would raise her with a sense of her culture.

As usual, it was a last minute decision. I told Jack to get dressed and I ran into the shower where I was promptly joined by Makena. Every time she hears it running, she insists on stripping out of her clothes and getting in. It's not worth the crying tantrum to oppose her and I can keep an eye on her that way, all be it a soapy one.

Once we were done, I toweled her off and proceeded to take a minute for myself when I heard her utter her first three-word sentence: "Ooh, look poopoo!" I couldn't believe the string of words pouring out of her mouth nor the vision of her naked in the hallway pointing at a lump on the carpet. She repeated the sentence and followed it by, "Ew, stinky!"
We made it downtown in time to see the last of the parade. There were thousands of people everywhere and firecrackers and confetti were being tossed left and right. It was amazing. Jack never once said he was bored and even helped me keep an eye on Makena who kept pointing to the rodents, calling them "mouse". A few bystanders kept telling me they were "rats" -- which I knew. I was just happy to see Makena expressing herself.

Unfortunately, her expressions didn't stop there. I put her on my shoulders to help her get a better view when I was assaulted by a very familiar smell... Makena repeated her "Ooh, stinky" line and Jack's expression confirmed it all. I had it on my clothes... my neck... in my hair...

As I ran back to the car with no wipes on hand, I kept telling myself that nobody knew me and that I would never see these thousands of people again... We drove off with the windows down so that I could go home and have my second shower of the day.Hopefully, Makena will be out of diapers for the year of the ox.

Is - a - potty head.

Papi

Papi (Mak and Jack's grandpa) finally made the journey to meet his granddaughter for the first time. As is the case in my family, the trip was ripe with drama. The plane took off from Montreal for a stop-over in Chicago before heading onto L.A. when one of the doors threatened to blow off at thirty-five thousand feet. The plane was redirected to Ottawa where it made an emergency landing. Then all the passengers were put on a return flight to Montreal and then reassigned flights to the destinations they were headed to in the first place. Papi then elected to fly to Vancouver to grab a connecting flight south. My eighty-three year old father finally stumbled out of the Los Angeles terminal around eleven PM - twelve hours later than he was supposed to arrive and about twenty-three hours since he had last gone to sleep.

I was at first worried for him and then relieved that he hadn't aborted his plans because we hardly ever get to see him. He spends half the year in Canada (the cold months) and the other half in Spain (the hot months) so we only get two windows of time during the year when he is able to visit us.

I was concerned about how Makena would react to him and I was ready with cautions and warnings, telling my dad that I had to hold her, that he couldn't just pick her up whenever he wanted because it might freak her out and not to be concerned if at first she ignored him (or drop-kicked him) -- as Makena sometimes does when she meets new people. In typical Papi fashion, he didn't hear a word I said. (He's deaf and refuses to get fitted with a hearing aid!) And before I knew it he had scooped her up and was kissing and tickling her. I was stunned when she didn't wiggle out of his grasp or smack him. She giggled. A few hours later, I was getting dinner ready and I caught her drinking her bottle cuddled on his lap, watching Barney! I couldn't believe it. We took him to visit grandpa and grandma -- they hadn't seen each other since EM and I got married (fifteen years, two months and eight days ago) and then we journeyed on to San Diego and hooked up with another one of Makena's China cousins, Mea, along with her mother and older sister, Ashley. We met at Sea World and Jack convinced Papi to take a ride on Atlantis while I headed off to the polar bear exhibit. I hooked up with them a half-hour later to find them soaked. Jack was grumbling something about Papi having embarrassed him (welcome to the club.) He apparently attempted to wipe down the wet seat with a few of his MacDonald paper napkins (he tends to carry around with him.) Makena spent the day with Mea and the girls had a great time running left and right all over the place. After we returned home, Papi helped Jack construct his Spanish mission for his 4th grade Social Studies class. It took several days to accomplish and they worked really well together. After I saw how Papi was dressed for the endeavor, I insisted that the project be completed indoors. (we have a recessive "style" gene on my side of the family.) I was mortified that the neighbors might catch site of him in his paint splattered swim trunks and sweater vest and have him arrested by the fashion police.

Makena spent the rest of Papi's two week visit calling after him and bossing him around to chase her or sit and watch a program or drink from her tea set. He always obliged or indulged her with attention and hugs and he had a great time reconnecting with Jack, playing board games and telling him stories. We were really sad to see him go and are now contemplating a trip to Spain to go visit him because we just don't travel enough in this family.

We miss you Papi and hope to see you soon!

Is-a-frequent flyer