A room fit for a wild beast

Being three (going on 13), the boy wants to do everything "ALL BY MYSELF". In order to accommodate this, I have been working on upgrading his room to a more preschool appropriate space and shifting all of his baby/toddler things into the guest room as it will eventually be the baby's room. The first thing I did was remove the too-tall dresser that I worried would one day crush the boy while he struggled to remove underwear and socks from its top drawer. I replaced it with a small piece I bought at our church's rummage sale for $2 and jazzed up with some blue paint and new hardware. It's basically a cheap piece of junk (as the hubby says, "Ya got what ya paid for") but it serves its purpose. Now underwear, socks and pajamas can be easily, safely and independently removed. The next step was a new bed. CJ took apart the crib and stored it in the basement (so that guests can still enjoy a full sized bed until the baby arrives) and I found a wooded bed frame on Craigslist for $32. Paul was thrilled to have a big boy bed and tried to cram every single stuffed animal in his collection under the covers. Sadly, there was no room for him at that point and we needed to compromise on who would stay and who remained in the basket. The first few nights in the new bed were a little rough, but he has adjusted quite well to the openness of it all. In the meantime I also brought in the larger bookshelf to accommodate his large collection of reading material. The boy loves his books. Funny side story: the other night I went to check if he was sleeping and found him on his belly, head propped up in his hands, reading by the light of his nightlight. It was too cute.
The last step was completed last night. CJ installed a closet organizer that allows Paul to reach his own clothes and return the hangers without assistance. He was so excited at the prospect of picking his outfit that he picked and re-picked at least a dozen times. And look at all the room we cleared out for MORE CLOTHES! Yippee!! As you can see, the boy is very happy with his new room.

The new journey

August. The dog days of summer. The only month that has no official holiday. And the time in a teacher's life when you realize that summer is halfway over. (Those of us who don't teach summer school anyway!) I start a new teaching job in a few weeks and have to admit that I am a little nervous. New situations are generally pretty intimidating to me, but this particular job is a bit more so because I am returning to teach in the district where I received my education. I will be co-teaching English for three periods with two periods of resource room. The school runs their English program a little differently. Students in 9th grade all take freshman English. Then in 10th, 11th and 12th grade they choose their class based on the literature. My classes will be 10-12 graders. Tomorrow I am going in to meet the other new special education teachers (& hopefully my co-teachers) and find out what literature we will be reading. The best part is that during the second semester the English department focuses on Shakespeare and puts together a performance for the end of the year. There is a lot to be excited about, but also a lot of anxiety about making a good impression. I am thankful to have had this past year of high school experience with some fantastic co-teachers; here's hoping this coming school year will be great too!

"What a long, strange trip it's been"

In retrospect, we may have tried to do too much in too short a time.

Last Tuesday the van clan woke up at the crack of dawn and headed west to Los Angeles. Paul did exceptionally well on the plane (as compared to last year - yikes!) and was easily bribed to sleep by the lure of Uncle's swimming pool. We spent a fun-filled three days with my brother & his family. They recently welcomed a forth boy to their brood and he is just as cute (if not cuter) than the other three.Paul loved playing with his cousins and meeting the new baby. We swam in the pool, spent a day letting the boys run and jump at an indoor playground, and hung out in Santa Monica. Paul braved several of the rides on the pier and had a blast running in and out of the waves. The visit was over much too quickly. The day we left, one of my nephews sadly asked, "Aunt Sandi, can Paul stay for nine days?"
Friday morning we started on the longest road trip ever (since crossing the country of course) up the coast of California. When I was ten my family traveled along Route 1 from San Francisco to Los Angeles and I remember it being breathtakingly beautiful and white knuckle scary. I remember sitting in the back seat between my sister and grandmother while my father took the windy roads at way too fast a speed, spending most of the time plotting how I was going to escape when the car went careening off the hill. I had recounted this story to my lovely husband (probably more times than once) and knowing that I have a flair for the dramatic, he wanted to see just how scary it really was. So we drove. And drove. We stopped along the way for a picnic lunch and enjoyed the cool ocean breeze (it had been 100+ in LA) before heading up the mountain. As we began the scary, windy, cliff-hanging part of the journey, CJ remarked at how beautiful it was and how the decision to come this way was well worth the extra driving time. About an hour later and not even halfway through the mountain he added, "Ok, I've seen it. Is is over yet?" Unfortunately at that point we were completely committed.

Paul did remarkably well. I kept him happy with snacks and random trinkets I had picked up before the trip. That and countless renditions of The Three Billy Goats Gruff. He struggled to fall asleep at first due to the constant back and forth motion of the car, but when he cried we simply took him out into the ocean air and looked for seals, which he was happy to search for with his new binoculars.

As we approached the dinner hour we set out for Santa Cruz, where one of CJ's cousins has a cottage. We were making great time until getting stuck in random traffic on Route 1, when Paul announced, "I have to go pee." Happily there was a fruit stand on the side of the road with a bathroom. I bought some local fruit as a thank you and drooled over the enormous artichokes priced 10 for $1. TEN FOR ONE DOLLAR! They were growing on the side of the road next to the stand. Can't get more local than that. However I passed on the great deal and chose strawberries instead as they were much easier to munch on in the car. Sigh.

In Santa Cruz we visited the famous pier and strolled on the beach. Then it was off to Santa Rosa to visit with our good friends from the Carl Vinson (CJ's ship in Washington). We had a great time catching up and wished that we lived closer and could visit more often. Perhaps someday we will return to the west coast to set up shop once again (preferably in the Northwest of course - I miss all that green!)

On Saturday night we attended the wedding celebration of our friend Shawn. Shawn and CJ went to college together, but they did not become friends until SWOS (Surface Warfare Officer's School) in Rhode Island. It was the first summer of Navy life and the summer we got engaged. We had tons of fun sailing and exploring the area. Shawn was a huge influence on CJ at the time, opening him up to some crazy experiences. When he invited us to celebrate his wedding (he was married right before being deployed and hadn't yet celebrated with family and friends) we knew we couldn't miss it. The wedding was a costume party, and although dressed much too lightly for the cold wine country night, we had a blast. On our last day in California, we traveled down to San Francisco and did the tourist thing -pictures at the Golden Gate Bridge, chocolate at Ghirardelli Square and shopping at Fisherman's Wharf. All in all, it was an exhausting but fun trip. Now it is on to planning next year's journey: to Greece in celebration of our 10 year anniversary.

It is better to not know and hope, than to know and mope

This past weekend we took P to a picnic held by a local adoption support group. We had gone to two other events but still hadn't really made any connections with other families and wanted to keep trying. The day sounded like it would be a blast, it was being held at a local beach and included a cookout and sandcastle building contest. Unfortunately the weather was terrible. The sky opened up as we were driving out there, and it continued to pour most of the afternoon. When the rain finally stopped, the wind picked up and we all sat shivering under the shelter. Eventually we braved the elements long enough to take P down to the beach. He enjoyed digging in the wet sand and building sandcastles. (Hey, at least the rain was good for creating excellent packing sand!) We did manage to meet a few other families and share some nice conversation, but sadly no numbers were exchanged and the next event may be months away. I spoke to a woman whose daughter is a year younger than P and we talked about our experiences and how ridiculous the wait times have become. I did not have any recent information from our agency and told her we were hoping for a referral this summer.
Back at home I emailed our agency and asked for an update. Today I received sad news. Because no children were released for adoption in the early part of '09, there will be no referrals in July or August. (The children are required to wait five months for domestic placement before becoming eligible for international placement). My heart is breaking right now. I had really hoped we would hear in the next few months and could start planning for our son/daughter. I have been upgrading P's room with new furniture (new to him at least - it's all refurbished) in order to shift his toddler things into the baby's room. CJ said it was too early to be getting ready, but I needed to feel like we were moving forward. It feels like we have been waiting forever already and now we are faced with three+ more months, not even counting the wait for him/her to come home. (the social worker said the wait time from referral to homecoming is also increasing, putting us in Spring '10 at the earliest) I know that in the end we will add another child to our family and he/she will be the one who was meant to be with us, but that doesn't make this news any easier to swallow.

O Canada

Last Thursday our order of adoption arrived in the mail. Wait, let me back up a minute. On Tuesday I got a phone call from CJ saying that the courthouse couldn't read the faxed copy of his license and could I please re-fax it. Odd that it took them about a week and a half to figure out they couldn't read the fax, but whatever. So I faxed another copy of the license and received the order on Thursday. Friday morning I called the passport center to double check their address. I spoke to the same woman who has been dealing with our case these past few weeks and she assured me that this was the last piece of paperwork they needed. We could expedite the process if we needed to travel in the next few days (translation: send us money and we'll try to work slightly faster than a snail's pace); otherwise expect the passport in 2-3 weeks. Okay. Off I went to the mailbox to send in the order of adoption, the piece of paper that was of complete and utmost importance in order to process Paul's passport. Later that day I went out to get the mail and almost fell over when I saw what was inside. Paul's passport. No lie. Guess that super-critical piece of paper really wasn't that critical.
All sarcasm aside, we decided to celebrate with a trip to Canada this morning. CJ is off all week for the holiday and the weather was perfect. Upon arrival at Canadian customs I was confident that we would have no problems, and I proudly passed over our fresh passports. The woman looked us up and down and inquired if we were mother, father and child. Yes. And the boy is adopted? Yes. Do you have his adoption paperwork? Well, no, it is currently down in Charleston at the passport agency. It was required to acquire his PASSPORT. Ya know, the thing that proves he is an American citizen and will allow him to travel to different countries. Well, she says, this proves his citizenship but it doesn't prove that you are his parents. Perhaps the fact that we all have the same last name (which isn't exactly common) or the fact that we had to go through hoops to prove we were his parents in order to receive the passport??? You really should carry his adoption paperwork, she says. If he was older I could ask him questions, but he is too young for that. (Funny, the boy can recite his adoption story pretty well.)
Eventually she decided to let us into the country with a warning to carry his paperwork in the future. CJ & I were pretty ticked about the whole experience. We were discriminated against and antagonized because we are a multiracial family. If our son was white, his legality in our family would not have been questioned. Usually it is just me who gets my feathers ruffled about these type of things, but my darling husband had to agree this time. Needless to say, we had no trouble at all getting back into the United States. The customs agent was very sweet and friendly to Paul (who was a bit grouchy by then and needing a nap) and didn't seem to have any problem with our non-traditional family unit.

Don't pop the bubble

Ok, I've already posted these pics on FB, but they are just too funny and truly show the irony that is my boy. Paul is a wild child. He has constant energy and enjoys receiving attention for being a goofball. When out in public, we often have to redirect him from various lust-for-life behaviors such as running full force down the length of Sears while screaming the words to some Wiggles song. Recently, his daycare teachers have discovered something that immediately quiets him down by appealing to his competitive side: who has the best "bubble". For those readers who are not familiar with preschool behavior modification, a "bubble" refers to sticking out your cheeks in an effort to remain quiet. Paul's daycare teachers use it when the children are lined up to go outside or use the bathroom. Lately they have been praising Paul for having the best bubble, and he is incredibly proud of his title. Trouble is, it only works when there are other children around. During the above mentioned episode at Sears, no amount of bubble request was going to work. BUT, when asked to sit nicely for a recent photo op at his cousin's birthday party, he immediately went into bubble mode and remained perfectly still despite the surrounding drama. Trying to get a somewhat large group of unruly children hungry for cake to sit and wait for people to take pictures seemed a bit unrealistic, but we gave it a try. Unfortunately the children spread themselves out and I was not able to capture all of them in my frame. Instead I chose to focus on Paul and his two second cousins. Everyone sat quietly at first, but as soon as mom backed away from the birthday boy (on the right), he started to cry. She tried to console him with a balloon, but that simply created an opportunity for conflict. As the battle raged on, Paul sat perfectly still, hands in his lap, bubble on his lips. I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his head. In the end, the birthday boy could not be consoled, and the attempt to capture a happy group of smiling children was abandoned. I praised Paul for his ability to keep cool among the chaos. He shrugged me off and headed for the pinata. The next day in a nice restaurant, he shrieked loudly while attempting to jump out of his high chair. Sigh.

Battle against bureaucracy, part 378

Just when you thought the battle was over... we have been trying to get Paul a passport so that we can safely travel to Canada this summer. After collecting every piece of evidence that we had to prove Paul's existence, US citizenship and family legality, we trucked ourselves down to the airport post office (the only one with reasonable passport hours) and waited behind all the other fools who put their passport applications off to the last minute (new border rules went into effect June 1). The helpful man behind the counter took what he needed, leaving us with Paul's green card and Korean passport. Both had expired and he assured us they were not required. 5 weeks later we received a letter in the mail stating that further proof of citizenship was required. I called the passport office in Charleston and waited for a ridiculous amount of time before actually reaching a human. I explained our situation and she said she thought all they needed was his green card. She wasn't 100% sure and said someone from the department would call us directly with the answer within three business days. That was Friday. On Thursday the next week I sent in the green card, figuring no one was ever going to actually call me. The following Monday I received a message from the passport office. Hmm... guess "three days" really meant six. She said we also needed to send his passport and the original adoption decree from the court. I told her we sent in the only thing the court gave us and that we were told the passport was expired. Send it anyway she said and sent me a Fed Ex airmail envelope. Two days later I dropped off the passport at Fed Ex and the following day received another phone call requesting the final adoption decree. When I couldn't be reached, they called CJ who also told them that the only paperwork we received on our court day was already in their hands. Not enough he was told. So he called the courthouse and requested that they send us any and all paperwork associated to our case. They required a notarized request accompanied by a photo copy of his driver's license and told him that they may not be able to release it through the mail. Keep in mind that we lived in a different county at the time and picking up the paperwork would require a 4+ hour round trip drive. That is a lot of gas for one piece of paper. And I can only imagine that they will probably just give us another copy of what we already have and have already sent in to the passport office. Sigh. Meanwhile, every time he sees a commercial for Marineland he asks, "Can we go to that zoo?" Someday, buddy. Someday.