Mia

Seriously, the moment Mia and Makena hooked up (having not seen each other in a year and a half), trying to get them to stand or sit still for a picture was like wrangling cats. The girls are pictured here within seconds of seeing each other again.


Furthermore, Jack could do no wrong with Mia. She was completely charmed by him and stuck to him the entire day we spent together at ... Er...Disney World. The "note to self" I wrote myself got lost in all the moving around. That, combined with my low IQ and short term memory, had me schlepping the kids there to spend quality insane time with them. Mia was tall enough to ride some of the more serious roller coasters (2 inches taller than Makena) and enjoyed every second she was on them. She was a total daredevil. Interestingly, as the day progressed, Makena became more proprietary of Jack, at one point telling Mia, "Jack is MY brother!"


Barbara (Mia's mom) and I must have taken about twenty shots between us trying to get the girls to look in the same direction at the same time with a smile (or even a fake one) on their faces. I gave up.


Sugar kept us going all day (as in, we walked through the gates at 10AM and walked out at 11PM). The party continued at Barbara's hotel, where we crashed, because I (aka mother of the year,) messed up the reservation for this trip and short-changed myself one night's accommodation. Thank goodness for sleeper-couches. The girls were ecstatic to have another few hours to spend together the following morning before we headed off to the airport and home to Southern California.

Of course, it wasn't until I arrived at the airport that I realized that I was wearing the same pair of jeans that I had ripped on the way over -- which embarrassed Jack all over again. Other than that, it was a smooth and tanned getaway.

Is- in need of sugar detox

Valerie

After the day we had yesterday, Wanda (Valerie's mom) put us out of our misery by inviting us over for a play date in lieu of going to Sea World (see note to self in prior post).
The girls hadn't seen each other since last we traveled through here on our way to the Bahamas in 2007 so it was great to see how much they had grown. Valerie is tall and completely bilingual (English and Spanish) and has three older brothers (Jonathan, Brandon and Diego) who Jack loves to play with. And she loves doughnuts as much as Makena. They have sooo much in common.
We had a delicious lunch at a local Chinese restaurant.
More doughnuts and soda may or may not have been consumed.
And at the insistence of the boys, we headed back to the house so that they could resume their nerf gun shoot-out battles.

We said goodbye after an eight hour playfest. Makena fell asleep on the way home which gave me some quality hang-time with Jack.

Thank you, Wanda, for a wonderful and relaxing visit. The kids had a blast.

Is- catching my breath.

Note to self

How to undo a relaxing vacation:

Say goodbye to the Keys and drop your husband off at the airport curb so that he can catch his flight home while you travel on to Orlando to visit China cousins.

Promptly get lost for forty minutes trying to return rental car and almost miss flight.

Arrive winded at the gate for flight as it is boarding.

Sit on plane for additional hour (feeding kids placating candy) while they investigate an oil leak.

Listen as you are told that your flight is canceled and they will tell you when a new one will materialize.

Grab carry-on, wait for gate-checked (now damaged) stroller and head back to departure area.

Two hours later, board new flight with cranky, over-sweetened children.

Wait for an hour for rental car.

Wait for half an hour for car seat to materialize.

Get lost (following GPS directions) on the way to finding hotel.

Get call from husband letting me know that he landed safely in Los Angeles in the time it took me to grab an hour flight to Orlando.

Check in to hotel and put everyone to bed in their travel clothes.

Lights out at midnight.
Additional note to self:

Do not travel to Orlando during spring break.


Is- still standing... but barely

The Keys to happiness

We sprung Jack from school two days early and traveled to the Keys for spring break. As we headed to the airport around nine to catch a red-eye to Miami, I panicked because Makena was wide awake. She walked through security, pranced around the departures gate, asked to watch Mulan for the seventeenth time and showed no signs of slowing down. The flight from L.A. to Miami is 5.5 hours so I needed every second of that air time to sleep. After we landed, we would have another two hour drive to Duck Key, where we were staying. Things were not looking good.

Neither was my derriere because as I leaned down to pick something up, I heard a ripping sound that took my breath away. My jeans tore. There was no way to keep the incident private because Jack decided to announce it loudly to anyone within ear shot and then promptly declared how embarrassed he was that my buttock (one cheek) might be revealed.

EM came to my rescue and declared the rip to be "sexy." Thankfully, It was a horizontal tear and, no, I didn't have a change of clothes for myself. I boarded the plane with my head held high, walking with very short strides and with visions of the perfect Mojito awaiting me at the end of the line.

Makena (there is a god) fell asleep upon takeoff and I managed to get some uninterrupted shut-eye all the way to Miami. The rip was revisited when I had to disembark so I did what I always do in situations such as these and I told myself that I didn't know any of the travelers around me and that I would never see them again.
We swam with the dolphins.
The kids spent entire days in the pool.
Makena was little Miss Sunshine...
When she wasn't being Pirate Girl.

It was an excellent, relaxing and sun-filled vacation.

Is-happy

Uniform

The prospect of Jack attending a private middle school has been a steady focus for us since last August when we decided to try our hand at having him apply. We selected three within a reasonable distance from our home. Two of which were very hard to get into; one basing the decision on report cards, teacher letters and the ISEE exam, the other, on report cards and the admission interview.

What we did not anticipate and what came as a total and complete delight was that Jack was accepted to all three. I had actually hoped that these schools' selection process would kind of make the decision for us. Lame, I know.

What ensued was a soul searching debate over which school to enroll him in that sent me into a tailspin. I really had to think about who Jack was now, visualize him as who I saw him to be in high school and hope that whatever decision EM and I made would ensure that he would continue to enjoy learning and not flounder. Each of the school acceptance letters arrived on the same day and each gave us ten days to make our decision and come up with the (gulp) down payment. Jack favored two. One an art school with a progressive approach to teaching, a half hour from where we live, and the other a more academically demanding school where one has to wear a uniform and also the same distance away. The art school insisted they had an academically rigorous curriculum and the uniform school insisted they had a great arts program. EM and I were completely torn. The decision we had to make brought me back to my childhood and to the choices that were made for me and then memories and feelings floated up to the surface making this a very emotional decision for me.

I had to cash in several of my "wise parent" chips and hope that our choice will pay off. So come September, Jack will wear his hair slightly shorter and look like everyone else. Yup, Jack will be wearing a uniform -- which ostensibly should cut down on the time it takes to get us out of the house in the morning. Come to think of it, maybe I should wear one too

EM and I also made a pact that once the decision was made that we wouldn't look back and agonize over the decision.

So, with that in mind, I am visualizing pool side Mojitos as we are headed to Florida for spring break and to reunite with two of Makena's China cousins.

Is-a-uniform

Huh?

I drive home, bleary eyed, with visions of my children running toward me in slow motion, their faces streaming with tears of joy. What I in fact arrive home to are two very casual children who act as if I've been gone five minutes instead of a week, a dog (and now cat) with diarrhea and an absent husband who is dealing with an emergency at the lake house.

Jack walks up to me and gives me a "hey, mom"/ hug/ slap on the shoulder/ what did you get me/ look and I find Makena in her room. It takes two "Meimeis" to get her to look up, at which point she says, "hi, mommy" and goes back to her Little Mermaid video. I was expecting to be punished for my absence, I didn't expect it to be so slyly lethal.

The tell tale sign that their aloofness is in fact an act is that Makena decides to remain attached to my hip for the next two hours and that Jack just isn't cooperating about going to bed. I am wiped out. My eyeballs are dry and I feel very lightheaded.

I wake up around five in the morning, fully dressed, with Makena wrapped around me; legs, arms, everything. I guess I must have put her to bed and ended up spending the night right where I was. The next thing I realize is that my throat is sore. I can barely swallow and my ear won't equalize. Ugh. A cocktail of too much freedom combined with jet lag and pain leaves me shaken and stirred

I spend Tuesday having the horses shod and taking the animals to the vet. I spend the rest of the week in child chauffeur mode, coughing and feeling pathetic until EM can't stand it anymore and orders me to see a doctor.

I begrudgingly drag my derriere to our local urgent care to be told that I have bronchitis and that the "equalizing" problem is an ear infection. I leave with prescriptions for antibiotics, prednisone and an inhaler. I guess I was sick after all. The revelation actually cheers me up because I was beating myself up for not having more energy and not being able to get everything done. I'm sick!

Is-on the mend

Last stop

Anouk and I had planned on sharing a hotel room around the Paris airport for our last night in town but my friend, Vero, invited us to spend it at her place near Montmartre. She even sweetened the invitation by offering to drive us to the airport the next morning. I have to say that it was such an enjoyable and relaxed way to end this adventure.


When we showed up, we were met with the classic challenge of having to get our luggage up three flights of steps. We managed to cram two suitcases and me in the elevator while the other two ran up ahead to meet me. Since eighteenth century buildings were constructed before the advent of the elevator, I was amused to see how the floors were numbered. I ended up half a floor up from my intended destination.


We took Vero out for drinks and she brought two of her three children along for the escapade. Ines, her twelve-year old free spirit...


And, Lucas, her rambunctious ten-year old. Anouk and I had a good laugh at poor Vero's expense, watching her discipline her kids (and only because ours weren't there to add fuel to the fire). Ines and Lucas spent most of the outing sabotaging each other's drinks, hopping from seat to seat and pinching themselves. Vero was not amused. When she wasn't looking, Anouk even tried to teach them how to make spitballs with pieces of napkins.


The evening turned out to be greatly motivational. Anouk and I having had a weekly taste of freedom for the first time, in a long time, were instructed by Vero to make it an annual event. She shared that she had been taking a week to herself for the last two years and was about to implement a two-week getaway this year. (Those bold French women!)

I decided to begin formulating a one-week escape plan after I see what the impact of my absence will have been on Mak and Jack.

In the meantime, au revoir freedom, au revoir fries, and merci you Vero!

Is-going home

I Do

When Anouk found out that her mother would be wearing red at the wedding (as was she) and that so was the "official" maid of honor, she began a mini campaign to have me wear that color, too. We weren't going to tell Do any of this, just surprise her. Do, who as we know, went into shock the minute Christophe proposed to her. Actually, we all did. Forty-eight years as a single woman, finally deciding to tie the knot for the first time, with someone she's only known for six months (two, pre-engagement,) was a bit of a whirlwind for everyone. Dominique spent the following four months leading up to this day in a semi-functioning zombie state that her new French family amusingly thought was very "zen." (We knew better.) And so it was that we showed up on a rainy Saturday in the beautiful French countryside to celebrate, boldly. We wouldn't have missed this for the world.
The best part of the ceremony, other than the moments where they both said their "I dos," was when Christophe put the ring on Dominique's hand and it would not slip on! We all chuckled nervously and then with mounting panic watching Christophe, who had that finger in a death grip trying to get the ring on. I was ready to hurl a spit-ball at Dominique's finger to help lubricate the action. Thank god sheer force prevailed (because I'm really not that good a shot).
It did rain that day, but never for the important parts like walking in and out of the ceremony, reception and visits to the porto-potty.
I ended up writing the speech that morning. I composed it in English until I realized, late in the game, that my audience wasn't going to understand a word of it, so I grabbed the best man while we were all taking wedding pictures and had him help me translate it into grammatically correct French. (Although I do speak it fluently, I hadn't written more than a French sentence or two since high school.)
Standing before everyone, I managed to give the audience a peak at Do's personality and tidbits about some of her more outrageous exploits, without embarrassing her (or her husband). I did manage to make her laugh and cry. So I have to say that it went over quite well.
I was sad to say goodbye the following day. I was also exhausted. We had shown up at the farm at 2PM, the prior day, and had left the wedding at 3AM, the following, only to be back at there for brunch at noon with our bags packed and checked out of the hotel. A week as a single woman had my head wanting to explode. I was so delirious that I actually started fantasizing about making school lunches and driving carpool. Proof that I must have been hallucinating.

Boy, do the French know how to throw a good party, or what.

Is-almost home

In the meantime

EM and Makena's preschool e-mailed me a couple of pictures of the kids. Makena is happy to blow bubbles and paint all day long.
EM took Jack to Arizona for some father-son time and to catch a few games at the Dodger training camp.

I miss them but it doesn't seem to appear that my absence is causing them too much wear and tear. Unless you take note of Jack's nails -- which need some serious attention.

I am off to search for a French souvenir nail clipper.

Is-a-still away

Crystal clear

The official maid of honor had us over at her apartment for cocktails. The evening was also supposed to include dinner but she ended up bailing on feeding us because she didn't have matching china. (Apparently, she hadn't heard of take-out which usually comes with matching plates, all be it of the paper variety.)

As we scrambled to figure out what to do for Do's bachelorette party, the best girlfriend of her future groom stepped up to the plate and batted it out of the field by making reservations for us at the Crystal Room. It was thus that we proceeded out of the apartment and caravanned over to another arrondissement for a memorable experience.

I assumed that the celebration of the interment of Dominique's life as a single woman would include a pole so I was slightly surprised when we ended up at a very chic restaurant. Sadly, my crisp Euro bills ended up staying in my wallet. The Crystal Room restaurant was located inside the Baccarat (duh, crystal) museum. The place was renovated by Philippe Stark who married 18th century French with contemporary serious chichi.


The Maitre D saw us arriving with our cameras and was mortified. He asked us not to take pictures in the restaurant (boo)... but he didn't say anything about the rest of the place. Ha!


This was the kind of dining experience where you were presented with four glasses and the same amount of forks, spoons and knives and the object of the game was to figure out which one to use, when. You could feel the eyes of the waiters behind us ready to catch us in a dining etiquette faux pas. I thought of Jack's table manners and decided to look into cotillion camp when I get back.

On the way home, Dominique mustered up all of her courage and asked everyone present to keep the microphone away from me at the wedding. Well that did it for me. I had never planned on saying anything (nor Anouk) because I was too miffed to have not been asked to be a bridesmaid, that I decided there and then to prepare a speech. No one on the Canadian side of the family was planning on speaking so I decided (with the blessing of Do's mom and sister) that I would do the deed.

Horror of horrors, the fear that set into Dominique's eyes should I recount some of the experiences we had shared in our lives, certainly played a minor role in the insomnia that set into her for the next two nights.

I have to admit that the pressure of coming up with something to say about my friend (who I have known since I was nine years old) without making it too mean, too revealing (to embarrass her or the groom) and funny and touching at the same time, but most importantly, short, did rob me of a couple of hours of shut-eye, as well.

Is-a-plotting

Vive la France

What's a girl to do with all this time on her hands? One option is to spend two hours watching the hairstyle trial for Dominique's wedding.


Another, is to wrap a hundred snow globe party favors in tulle, stick name tags to red cards, organize guests by alphabetical order and cross check that everyone will be seated at the right table. Which is how I found out that I will be seated in Siberia with no one I know.


I feel that I can rag about this because Anouk and I are not Dominique's bridesmaids or bridematrons - whatever we should be called. Anouk and Dominique were mine. Dominique and I were Anouk's but Do decided to break that tradition when she asked a cousin of hers to take on that role. We are still waiting for said cousin to show up, step up to the plate and help. News flash: She isn't. She has been too busy attending the opera and going to museums to help. Which is exactly what Anouk and I should be doing. Aaaghhhhhh. I knew this was going to happen. Anouk knew this was going to happen. Even their mother knew this was going to happen. And guess what? It did! On the plus side, I don't have to wear one of those ridiculous pastel pouffy dresses or make a speech at the wedding. Please keep the microphone away from me.

Thank god for friendships.

We are done non-bridesmaiding for today. It's threatening to rain and Anouk and I are about to head out and salvage what we can of this vacation - which may really mean heading to a cafe and ordering wine at noon - all the while telling ourselves that it's five o'clock somewhere in the world.


Five hours later...

We are back, having window shopped our way through the sixth and seventh arrondissement. (Our husbands will be relieved to know that we purchased small, inexpensive, token souvenirs for our children.) We did end up in a cafe but we were too exhausted to think about drinking wine. So we talked about Dominique (our favorite subject) and ordered fries, instead. Freedom fries.

Vive la France!

Is-a-fried

Freedom

So the plane was an hour late in taking off and by the time the Air France flight attendants with the red, red, lips served dinner, I was actually hungry. I had my cocktail, ate my dinner and refused bread three times -- which is not very French. In fact it might even be considered an overt act of hostility not to eat it. I refused wine, too, and that's when they stopped smiling at me.

I settled in and chose "Quantum of Solace, which I stayed awake for, and then fell asleep through "Vicky, Christina, Barcelona." I woke up when the pilot announced the decent toward Paris. I slept. Yippee.

When we landed it was two in the afternoon of the next day and I received a text message from a good friend of mine telling me that she was waiting for me on the other side of baggage claim. Quelle surprise! What a gift! On the drive into town, we caught up on our lives, our kids and the necessity of abandoning our families for a week to seek freedom and regeneration.

Dominique (AKA the bride) showed up later in the afternoon and we spent the rest of the day catching up before going out to dinner. We chose Indian and thus did not have to refuse any bread. Brilliant.

Back at the ranch...

I called EM to see how things were going and things had gotten off to a ruff start in the morning when Tiger had some gastric complications in the middle of the night and decided to express them in front of our bedroom door. Ugh. Jack was dragging his heels to get dressed for school and Makena was clingy...

I am feeling a little bit guilty about all this freedom but I have been assured that this feeling should completely dissipate by tonight. I'm waiting for this moment to happen with anticipation.


In the meantime, Anouk, Dominique's sister has just arrived from Montreal. Time to explore.

Is-in France

And she's off

I interrupt this blog to announce that I have the week off. My friend, Dominique is (finally) getting married for the first time and the ceremony is taking place just outside of Paris. As in "France!" I am writing this from the airport lounge awaiting my flight.

El Mysterioso gave me his blessing and I purchased one ticket to Europe. This is quite possibly the first time in almost eleven years that I am taking more than two days for myself without a husband, a child or two children in tow. I arrived at the airport about an hour ago and breezed through security. I didn't have to unstrap a child out of a car seat and strap her into a stroller. I didn't have to hear another one complain about the long lines. I didn't have to remove three pairs of shoes and stuff all the baggage through the x-ray machine. I just placed my hand bag on the conveyor belt, showed my boarding pass and walked through.

My deodorant supported me, I have no food stains on my shirt. I feel calm. I debated about whether or not to have a drink before the flight and decided to blog about this momentous time in my life instead.

All it took for me to get here was spend a couple of days writing down an intricate schedule for my husband, three babysitters and driver-friends to follow. Mak and Jack will be chauffeured to school, baseball, karate, tennis, gymnastics and Chinese tutoring. Teachers, coaches, doctors and veterinarians have all been alerted that I am leaving town. The horse feed is being delivered tomorrow. The geckos have feasted on crickets and the health insurance card is tacked on a cabinet in the laundry room.

Mommy is off.

Next stop, Paris.

Au revoir.

Is-away

Zoo

This picture would have been perfect had I been faster to whip out my Iphone to capture the cat in this shot, as well. But he saw Makena on the hunt for him and bolted. I did manage to get Makena, Tiger, Romel and Scarlet in the same frame so I would deem this a successful shot. I have visions of rounding up all our animals, along with the kids and posing them for a holiday but I chicken out every year at the time consumption such a photograph would take.
Makena is obsessed with Jerry. She finally caught him and wanted to introduce him to Rommel, but the tortoise was too preoccupied, trying to snap at Tiger, to bother. Every time Tiger makes an appearance in the "tortoise sector" of the yard, Rommel makes a mad dash for the dog and chases him away. He is extremely territorial.
Jerry is quite possibly the best cat. He has been with us a month and has not scratched or bitten Makena. This poor cat spend half his day in her embrace (under our supervision). He has learned to go very limp and pretends to sleep. As soon as Makena releases her grip, he sprints away to hide and then the search for the cat begins again. Endless, obsessive fun for a three year old.

Is-a-zoo

Wo lian ni

(The first Valentine artwork from Makena)

We reintroduced Makena to Mandarin a month ago when she began taking classes with a Chinese tutor who is originally from Chongqing. This woman apparently has a waiting list of students wanting to be taught by her who come from all over the Los Angeles area (as well as adjoining cities) to learn Mandarin from her. We showed up for our first lesson only to find out that we were auditioning for her. She needed to know that Makena would actually sit still long enough to be taught and that she would actually make progress and learn.

She decided to try her out for a month and see if she was a good candidate. She started off by only talking to her in Chinese for the first few minutes and it was fascinating to watch Makena listen as if she was almost entranced. Makena is usually a bit standoffish when she meets new people but not with her tutor. Well, I can happily declare that we made it (so far) through four weekly classes and that she has invited us to continue. Makena can almost count to ten in Mandarin and is learning the words to "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." I am learning along with her and some of it is actually sticking. I practice with her wherever and whenever and I feel that the new vocalization she is having to learn to speak Mandarin has helped improve her English diction.
We stopped by a yummy bakery after class to buy Jack and his friends some cupcakes on the day before Valentines and we couldn't leave without sampling one.

Wo lian Makena
Wo lian Jack
Wo lian baba


Is-a learning Mandarin
PS I love you

Preschool

In 2007, when the truck fell into our house, I was forced to put Makena into day care/preschool to have some time to focus on the reconstruction. This did not go well for her at all. She was aggressive and territorial and bit or clobbered any child that threatened her space. She was also going through the added disruption of having moved to temporary lodging with her stressed-out parents and this just meant too many changes and little stability for her. Compounding her frustrations were her speech delay and her nanny leaving us without any notice. Ugh.

It was so hard for me to see her struggle to claim some control over her life that I pulled her from preschool after two months and decided to keep her home with me through the construction. I knew in my gut that I wouldn't even try to put her in a school for another year, until after her third birthday. What I should have done in hindsight, is put her name on a preschool waiting list so that I could re-enroll her locally when that time came.

Since I happen to live in a small chichi surfing town, I blew it. All the preschools that appealed to me had a waiting list of a year to a year and a half when I went looking for one last December. I was stunned. And since all my friends have children enrolling in middle schools this year, I didn't know anyone who could help me get her in locally. Pathetic.

Just when I thought that I might have to (gulp) homeschool Makena, a mom whose daughter had attended the first preschool Makena had, called me for a playdate. Her daughter, a year later, still talked about Makena. She wanted to know if I would arrange a play date for our daughters to reconnect. I was thrilled. A little nervous for her daughter but thrilled none the less. The girls hit it off right away and found that dressing up as princesses was something they could do together so the reunion was a success.


Better yet, this woman proved to be a source of valuable information. She introduced me to an occupational therapist and to the preschool Makena now attends. She dropped out of the sky like an angel for me.

I had Makena evaluated and the OT explained that Makena was a high-toned, visual learner, which meant that she was ahead of the curb with regard to her physical abilities (I knew that.) and that she learned by watching more than by being told. (I didn't know that.) She gave me some exercises to do with her, told me to be Makena's interpreter when it came to her interaction with other children and told me to schedule more play dates and to keep them very short so that they would be successful and leave her wanting more of them. We did that for about six weeks until it was deemed that Makena would be ready to interact with a larger number of children in a school setting.

I enrolled Makena in the preschool that this woman ran, on the spot. I was number one on the waiting list (as opposed to number fifty-six) and although this preschool isn't even in our city, I believe that the half-hour drive there and back is worth every minute Makena spends there. The best part is that more than half the school is full of neighborhood kids and the other half is comprised of children that have some special needs that range from mild to severe. Bonus: any one of those needs can be addressed at the school, if they become an issue. But what makes this an even more enriching experience ultimately, for Makena, is that she isn't the only Asian child in an all-white school anymore. The children and staff she plays with three day a week are a rainbow of ethnicities. I think that on some level it makes her feel part of the group as opposed to an outsider.


She has now been there two months and we haven't had a single bitting episode. Yes, she has clobbered a couple of children, but she has also been clobbered! She hasn't once said that she didn't want to go to school. She looks me in the eye when I leave in the morning and she runs to hug me when I pick her up. Her vocabulary is flourishing and her speech is catching up, as well. And her teacher e-mails me a daily report and photographs of her at play. I couldn't ask for anything more. It took a while to get here but now that we are, this is the pie in the sky.

Now, all I have to do is figure out where Jack will be attending middle school next year. Hopefully, I can have two children schooled in the same city.

Isabelle

Thank you!

I want to send a big shout-out THANK YOU to my friends and to all the families in the Qianjiang adoption community who have rallied and are sending donations to Packages of Hope to help provide air conditioners for Makena's orphanage. We have almost reached our goal of being able to purchase five units. This effort will go a long way in helping these children stay warm.

I will post pictures when I receive them in a few weeks.

Thank you so much!

Isabelle

Please help

As you know, Makena spent her first months in the Qianjiang SWI which happens to be one of the poorest Social Welfare Institutes in Chongqing province. Every time I send a care package to the children of the orphanage, I am told to send bottles to feed the babies or socks to keep their feet warm. Yes, stimulating toys are great but, seriously, what the orphanage needs is milk to feed the children or cash to purchase it. Contrary to popular belief, quality of life does not begin with Fisher Price. Quality of life begins with food to feed a hungry child. From there you hope and pray for one-on-one attention, interaction and stimulation. Toys are a distant last on the priority list especially when you have to factor in the cost of keeping the children warm.


Recently, with the help of families from the Qianjiang adoption community and with the facilitation of the Packages of Hope charity, we were able to send enough formula and rice cereal to feed all the children there for the next few months. A small miracle which freed up some of the SWI Director's limited funds to purchase COAL to heat some of the rooms (but not all) in the orphanage.

Unfortunately, the children of Qianjiang barely have any heat to keep them warm There aren't enough nannies to keep them active so many babies are left to languish in their crib day in and day out.

Packages of Hope has begun a drive to purchase heaters (otherwise known in China as air conditioners) for the orphanage. They cost $600 a pop. The orphanage needs 5 so that al the children's rooms can be heated. No donation of money is too great or too small. I know times are difficult but if you could spare a few dollars and make a contribution, it would go a long way to helping us realize the goal of keeping these babies warm.


Makena was found in November and didn't move to a foster family until March. It just kills me to know how cold and alone she was those first few months that she was there, so if I can help a few babies stay warm, I will do what I can and I hope that you can too.

Please follow the link and make sure you let Packages of Hope know that your donation is meant for Heating for the Qianjiang orphanage. Every penny of your donation will go to the orphanage.

I would be very grateful.

Thank you.

Isabelle

Best Blog

My friend Barbara nominated Mak and Jack for "Best Blog". I'm not quite sure what this entails. Is there a ceremony? And, if so, do I need to get a manicure and get my hair done? I am very flattered that she enjoys reading about our family. We live at the intersection of chaos and dysfunction. I think you know where that is. In any event, this has motivated me to blog more regularly.

In the meantime, I need to pass the baton and nominate five blogs that I enjoy reading.

The first one is about Mia who was adopted on the same day as Makena. Barbara and Mike were part of our adoption group and were also our traveling companions on a short trip that Jack and I took to Beijing before we met Makena. Mia is incredibly precocious, cute and "runway mode"l tall She and her family live in Florida and Barbara is very good at keeping her blog current.

The second blog, Why Do These Kids Keep Calling Me Mom, is hilarious. I read it weekly and it is about a family in the Washington State area. Although I have never met them in person I appreciate the parallel universe we live in. They have two daughters (one of whom was adopted at the age of 8) from China and an older biological son who reminds me a lot of Jack. Their life is ripe with chaos, humor and adventure.

The third blog, Grrl Travels, is about another family who adopted two children from China after having a biological son. The daughter they adopted had some developmental issues in the beginning and has made amazing progress (her mom deserves an award). This blog has always been very straightforward, often dark and funny and generous as it presents the challenges of trying to help this little girl function while meeting the needs of the other children and staying happily married!

Fourth: A good blog about two sisters, Maddy and Gwen, who were both adopted from China within eleven months of each other. The girls are a month apart in age so they are twins for all intents and purposes. Their mom runs a tight ship and her blog is always insightful, full of advice, good doses reality and useful links.

The last official nod will go to the twins. They are a hoot and remind me of Makena times two so I don't know how their parents do it.

Runners up: Waiting for Sophie, the Rolls Royce of blogs with several hundred thousand readers.

Life in the Greene Family She doesn't update very often but when she does it is to announce that another child has been adopted into the family. At last count, she was raising 22. I think that the octuplet mom should turn to her for advice.

Enjoy visiting these blogs.

Thanks, Barbara.


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