A Song Heard Far Away

Snow

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 21:22:00 +0000

Last night I dreamed that we were snowed in, and that my husband and I had nothing to do for the next five days but ski. There were no kids around. I'm not sure where my subconscious would have me ski unless Admiral was closed to traffic and the snow lasted for more than a day in this banana belt-part of Seattle. One interpretation is that I need some alone-time with my husband. The correct interpretation is that I am loving not only being home with my family and not working, but I am loving the fact that my husband is home. Not an hour goes by that he doesn't crack me up somehow.

Re-entry wasn't particularly easy. The first several days were a bit of a blur because we were all sleep-deprived and sick. Now that we are sleeping and healthy, our priorities are (1) making Georgia and Anna comfortable and happy; (2) preparing for the pending move; (3) and scrimping so that we can stretch our remaining income until closing on the sale of our house which is scheduled for July 19th, in that order.

Meredith (MCS's sister) and I are searching for a part-time nanny to care for Anna and Meredith's ten month-old son, Teddy, beginning the third week of July. In a mere two hours after posting the ad, I have received numerous e-mails from young women (mostly) with quite a bit of childcare experience. Of course we will conduct the necessary criminal and driving record background checks, but the most effective part of the selection process will be the in-person interview. Between the two of us, no one can possibly get past our collective bulls**t detectors. Most people submit stellar resumes, but if we can't stand to be around the person for more than ten minutes, then it won't matter what is on the resume. Here are the questions I am thinking of asking:

Does female-pattern baldness run in your family? If so, what do you plan to do about it?
Why do you think Paul Newman hasn't made any movies in awhile?
If you had to pick between two left feet that couldn't be surgically corrected or being chased through the jungle by Pol Pot, which would you pick?
Is a tomato a fruit or a vegetable?
Do you think there'll ever be a pill so that men can breast-feed?
Use the word "bulbous" in a sentence.
Clowns - funny or not?

After these questions the candidate will have to bench-press 320 lbs then make one of these in fifteen minutes.

Anna won't eat anything green or red. We must deprogram this trait.

Home - Day 3

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Mon, 25 Jun 2007 15:48:00 +0000

When Marie Antoinette left Austria to marry Louis XVI of France, she left by carriage accompanied by French courtiers. At the border between France and the Hapsburg Empire, Marie Antoinette was required to complete the ceremonial act of stripping off all her clothes, leaving behind all her belongings, and dressing in French clothing before she crossed over into France. There is some dispute as to whether she was allowed to bring her dog with her into France.

After sixteen hours in the air we arrived home on Friday morning. Anna is now an American citizen. All the paperwork was completed in China, we took an oath at the U.S. Consulate in Guangzhou that all our documents were true and correct, and Anna was issued a Chinese passport and Immigration Visa. She became an American citizen at the first American portal through which she entered the United States, which was the immigration desk at SeaTac Airport. No ceremony.

Our days and nights have been flip-flopped since then, and last night was the first time we slept when everyone else slept. Sort of; I awoke at three a.m., but it's an improvement.

Anna is a dream-child. Other than her habit of falling over face-first like an infantryman when she doesn't get her way, she is pretty darn easy and well-adjusted. She's bright, happy, and inquisitive. Last night when I made dinner she hugged my legs and looked up at me and said, "Mama."

We're staying home for two more weeks to adjust to this big change in our family. We've sold our house and have purchased a larger house with a big yard and more bathrooms.

Anna is sleeping in our friends' Pack and Play because we don't yet have a crib. We thought she'd sleep in a toddler bed or in a twin, but she would most definitely not stay in bed.

Guangzhou - Day . . Um. . I forget.

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Tue, 19 Jun 2007 12:47:00 +0000

Did I mention it's hot here? A couple of days ago we visited some botanical gardens during a heavy rainstorm. The rain didn't really cool us off, it just made the ground steamy. My skin is constantly "dewy." (read: sweaty).

I'm not complaining. Oh, except for one more thing. The staring.

There's staring and then there's staring. Before we arrived, I read that in the Chinese culture staring at others is completely acceptable. The city where we are staying caters to Americans adopting Chinese infants. Americans are everywhere and the economy depends upon American tourism. And whether it's sincere or not the Chinese people here are warm and gracious. I suspect it's sincere. Other than one time when a Chinese man stared at my boobs in the elevator all the way up to the ninth floor, the staring is usually fine because it's in a "oh, isn't it cute how that blond woman is carrying a Chinese child?"-sort of way.

Today we decided to venture off the beaten path without our guide so we took a taxi to an upscale shopping district larger than anything I've seen except maybe in Manhattan. Rolex, Cartier, Tiffany, all the expensive stuff that I don't pay attention to at home was there, as well as hundreds of shops and department stores full of merchandise I can't afford and don't need. There were no tourists, and no one spoke English or would help us find the elevators or the bathrooms. I asked one clerk for directions to the elevator and she smirked and looked away. Here, they stared at us in a "how dare you come into our county and take our Chinese baby back with you and, by the way, you are very fat and ugly"-kind of way. Time and time again Chinese shoppers stopped dead in their tracks, stared at us for two or three seconds, wrinkled up their noses then loped away like frightened woodland creatures. It was as if we were leading a herd of goats through the mall while wearing lederhosen.
I am not sure if I have a point here other than basic human kindness has no nationality, and neither does the cold shoulder. It's a good reminder to consider a similarly situated foreign person in the U.S. who needs to find a bathroom or an elevator. Even if they were herding goats, I would hope I would offer some help.

Guangzhou - Day Eight Part II

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 10:07:00 +0000

For family recreation, we swim every day. There's also a "gym" adjacent to the pool, which resembles Sears showroom floor in about 1975.

There's a treadmill,

a leg press, and

- what is Song Song laughing at?

She's laughing at Mommy, trying to reduce her hips and buttocks.

Guangzhou - Day Eight

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 00:15:00 +0000

The great thing about having a Chinese guide while we're here is being able to travel off the beaten path, away from the touristy spots. Yesterday we visited a Chinese herbal medicine market. If you've ever read Shakespeare's Macbeth, you'll recall the initial scene in which the three witches sit around a cauldron throwing weird stuff into it and agree to meet again to discuss Macbeth's fate. I think the witches probably shopped at a medicine market like this one.

The place smelled a little bit like a fish tank, made so much more fragrant by the stifling heat.

Tiger's feet apparently play a role in Chinese medicine, though I can't hazard a guess as to what it could possibly be. Each of these "paws" is probably about six inches across.

Right before I took this picture Georgia announced, "this is the last picture I'm going to pose for this year." Greta Garbo.

Sea horses, and

Centipedes, and

more centipedes. We then found a family that sold live scorpions who took a liking to Georgia. In Chinese they said, more or less, "You're beautiful. Look at those eyes. We like you. Here, have a a live scorpion." They put a big black scorpion in a Gatorade bottle and punched a hole in it with a knife. They handed the bottle to Georgia who looked at it for what it was - a poisonous crustacean. I asked the woman how long it would survive in the bottle. "Just throw it some meat now and then," was the response. Fortunately for Georgia a little Chinese boy asked her if he could have it and she said "Sure."

Check out the bottle in the middle of the front row of the following picture. Pickled snakes. Apparently they're used in Chinese wine. I hope not the Great Wall cabernet I've been buying at the 7-11 next to our hotel.

Cicadas.

We left the market a little less hungry than when we arrived.

In other news, Song Song can say, Mama, Dada, Gama, Jah Jah, and bye bye. She also bites and pinches. I didn't have to deal with that before. If anyone has any good advice regarding biting and pinching that doesn't involve child abuse, please let me know.

Guangzhou - Day Seven

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Fri, 15 Jun 2007 09:29:00 +0000

Today we visited a 1500 year old Buddhist Temple. This is the tower, which is one of many buildings and temples on the site. The tower appears from the outside to have nine stories but there are actually seventeen levels on the inside. The number nine in Buddhism is a perfect number, which is obviously why Jerry Seinfeld filmed for nine seasons. There are seventeen levels inside to hold 1,000 Buddhas. I know this is a gross over-simplification. Hundreds of Chinese were there today lighting incense to pay respect to the Buddha and to pray. The haze from the incense was thick and smelled good. The monks were chanting, which was interesting. I tried to high-five the monks but they didn't respond.

Worshipers buy turtles from Buddhist monks which the monks release into the nearby river so the turtle can be free. Apparently this symbolizes a soul's release of karma.

Three two-story Buddhas sit in the temple shown below. The Buddha on the left symbolizes one's past lives, the Buddha in the middle one's present life, and the Buddha on the right one's future lives. I'm not having any future lives. I've made up my mind so I sort of gave the Buddha on the right the cold-shoulder.

It was difficult for us to walk through the grounds without being stopped by Chinese grandmothers. This happened to us probably three times during the hour we were there and each time they'd stare for a few seconds, then smile and touch the girls' hair and pinch their arms. Apparently, when an old person does this it means they find the child attractive; it's a compliment. Georgia felt a little like a spectacle, but Anna enjoyed it. The Chinese grandmothers are also very free with advice, such as the child needs a coat (it was ninety degrees and muggy!) or the child is too skinny.

Anna is beginning to assert herself; if we take something away from her she falls down limp, face down. At precisely four p.m. every day she takes off all her clothes, takes me to the bathtub and points to it so I'll give her a bath. Despite her early attachment to Elliott, I'm the only one who can hold her now and she screams if anyone else tries to. The agency told us not to try to break her of this habit just yet, thinking it's her way of adjusting. It's o.k with me generally, but it's too hot to carry her all the time and I'm constantly soaked with sweat.

Souvenier update: MCS's souvenier's are purchased. I've chosen a theme. Good times.

Sign of the Day - Friday, June 15th

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Fri, 15 Jun 2007 05:56:00 +0000

Guangzhou - Day Six

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Thu, 14 Jun 2007 22:36:00 +0000

A few preliminary matters: First - Happy Anniversary Moparman and Moparmamma! Wow! I'm glad your doltish behavior was forgiven on that first date, Dad, or I might be Britney and Kevin's kid or something like that!

Second - I can read all your comments but I can't respond for some reason!Keep them coming! I appreciate all your warm wishes. Jacob, you crack me up even in China.

Third: The back - I did go to a clinic here in Guangzhou which puts most Western hospitals/clinics to shame. The doctor made sure I didn't have a herniated disc or something, gave me some Ibuprofen then made me get acupuncture and massage. After years of medication and physical therapy, my back feels better than it ever has, and I never took the Ibuprofen. I'd over-analyze it, but then maybe it wouldn't work.

Fourth - the hands wiping thing. My friend Mae e-mailed me and said that it's pretty common in this culture for moms/nannies to constantly wipe their kids hands. Song Song will have to get used to being kind of grubby, though, because I just can't keep up with all that cleanliness.

For the past twelve years or so I've loved trying to find the oddest souvenirs I can come up with on my travels to give to my friend Margaret. (MCS).
Once I was in Fredricksburg, Virginia, the site of a famous Civil War battle. I only had two hours by myself to sight see. I wandered into an antique shop and found a box of old postcards. But they weren't postcards of normal things like parks and statues and landscapes, they were postcards of weird stuff like sewage treatment plants and the dining room of grange halls. So I started sending MCS postcards of public works projects and highway systems from around the world. I can't find any such postcards here.

When MCS and I were in Mexico last year, we discovered that the people in Mexico love phallic souvenirs. Debbie - you might be reading this to Em, so I'm not sure how you'll explain that word, Sorry!!

This place is a gold-mine of weird and strange oddities. But the problem is this: every time I go into a souvenir shop to hunt for something for MCS, I nice Chinese girl follows six inches behind me saying in a little girl sing-song voice, "very traditional," "very beautiful," etc. It is really wrecking my concentration. How am I going to shop for the giant ceramic peanut or the Chairman Mao cigarette lighter with all that racket? I don't know what do do. Perhaps just steal my nerves and focus on the task at hand, sort if like I do when I'm reading all of your blogs and my daughter is hungry and trying to get my attention.

Song Song has decided we're o.k. She runs to us, burying her head in our laps, laughing. She has had a lot of love in her short life so far, it's clear. Georgia had a small break-down the other night when Song Song threw a toy at her. She told me she was homesick and I guessed (correctly) that the reality that Song Song is here to stay started to sink in. I told her I understood how she must feel, that I am homesick too, and it's quite alright if she doesn't like having a little sister all the time. I think if she's given permission to feel whatever she feels she'll decide on her own that things are going to be o.k. The next morning Georgia was just fine, and we haven't seen any more regrets, although they may arise from time to time. Deb, she misses Emily, Monique, Maddie and her friends fiercely!

All the best to you, friends. You're awesome.

Guangzhou - Day Five

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Thu, 14 Jun 2007 05:10:00 +0000

Sign of the day.

Song Song leaving with us after our first meeting, the second day we were in China. She is still wearing her name tag, which is apparently worn at all times at the orphanage, and it was a few hours before she would let us take it off.

Song Song and I strolling at the Chen Ancestral Hall.

All of us by the one of the two lions that guard the memorial.

Georgia in her traditional silk dress.

Happier now.

Guangzhou - Day Four

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Wed, 13 Jun 2007 12:04:00 +0000

My favorite sign so far, but there are others.

A primary school gym class Monday morning.

Georgia drying her nails in our hotel room .

The Pearl River outside our hotel room, not flooding as of today.

Today Elliott and I went on a walk, alone, and he asked me, "do you like it here?" I said, "Yes. I'm surprised because I didn't think that I would." "Me too," Elliott said. "I like it here too."

We've grown acclimated to the humidity so that it is no longer unbearable but simply tropical, and it's hard not to like a place in which the people treat us like royalty. We're staying at the "baby hotel," as its called by the local people, because it is filled with so many Americans adopting Chinese infants. The Chinese love American dollars, so we're fawned over everywhere. It makes me a little uncomfortable, really.

We have a driver at our beck and call whenever we need to go anywhere, and a guide who will lead us there. Because of the heavy rain, an umbrella appears every time we step out of a car. Each day that we've been here, we've had to travel to the civil affairs office to complete paperwork, and the driver pulls into an alley and rushes us into the building and up a back elevator. I'm not sure what the big deal is, but it seems like our guides are trying to keep us out of sight.

Anna (Song Song) is attaching to us very quickly. Today she cried when I walked out of sight, and she runs to us and hugs us several times a day. She laughs constantly. Shoe falls off? Hilarious! Underpants on head? What could be funnier? Whooo hee whaaaa whooo weeeeee!!!!

Song Song is also extremely fastidious. When she eats something with her hands - which is often as she is a toddler - every ten seconds or so she holds her hands out to me, palms up, so I will wipe off her hands with a cloth. It's a little like serving Charles I. She is a funny, funny, girl, and while I didn't think it would be possible to eclipse Georgia's activity level, Anna might be able to do it. We're in for another couple of years of running to keep a toddler out of traffic.

But Song Song must think we're mildly retarded because the only things we can say in Mandarin are "Ni Hau" (sp?) which means, "Hi," and "Nyau nyau (sp?) which means pee pee.

Tomorrow, which is really our fifth day here because I didn't write on the third day, we're going shopping. I can't wait. Jewelry and electronics. Maybe some baby clothes and toys for Anna and Georgia. More American dollars flowing.

Guangzhou - Day Two

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Mon, 11 Jun 2007 19:36:00 +0000

The big day. After wandering around the City - in the steamiest hottest weather I've ever experienced - we met our guide at the hotel at 3:00 to drive to the civil affairs office about twenty minutes away. The agency prepared us for this initial meeting right before we left and emphasized that we should expect anything. Sometimes a child Song Song's age (2 1/2) will cry and fight to stay with her caregivers (nannies), which apparently is a good thing. It means that the child has formed an attachment to someone and will therefore be able to form attachments to others. It's not a good sign if the child is indifferent to being transferred from one caregiver to another. We were also told that the child will likely form an initial attachment to one parent and not the other. Mothers don't accept being the "ignored" parent as easily as the father, according to the agency's experience.

We drove through Middle Earth to get to the civil affairs office. I wish I could post the pictures I took of this otherworldly place. If any of you saw "Blade Runner" in the 1980's you'll recall scenes of industrial wastelands, ghettos, and machinery in the midst of abject poverty. This is what I mean by Middle Earth.

We pulled into an alley that fed directly into a clean, modern office building, and took the elevator up. We waited on couches in a large white room for the caregivers (they call them "nannies") to bring Song Song to us. Through an open door that led to an ordinary office, we saw her toddling around after her nanny, and immediately recognized her from the pictures and short video we were given, so we started calling after her. She ran to the door and slammed it shut, happily.

A few minutes later Song Song toddled to us accompanied by two nannies, stopped a few feet in front of us, and stared. One nanny said something in Chinese, and gently pushed her toward us, which made her cry. She stamped her foot, threw the candy her nanny had given her on the ground and shook her head, "no." So the nanny gave us some cereal and crackers to offer her. She let us feed her and within ten minutes, she was laughing and dancing and the nannies were able to slip away without a dramatic good-bye.

Song Song is robust and healthy, nearly as big as Georgia was at her age, completely potty-trained, and very, very pretty. It is clear to us that she's received much better care than many 2 1/2 year olds who live with their parents.

After 1/2 hour or after we met Song Song, it was time to leave with her. She took my husband's hand, holding onto his index finger. I tried to hold her other hand and she shook her head, "no," a little more violently than I was comfortable with. She sat on his lap for the entire drive back to the hotel and wouldn't let him out of her sight. Despite her obvious attachment to my husband, she wasn't indifferent to Georgia and me, she just wouldn't let us hold her. A few hours later, however, when we walked to the grocery store to get some things for Song Song to eat, she allowed me to hold her hand, but if my husband turned a corner out of view, she violently tugged at my hand until she saw him again.

We spent the rest of the evening in the hotel room playing with her and she grew more and more comfortable, so that by bed time she fell asleep in my husband's arms.

Things we learned about Song Song the first day: she doesn't like to take her shoes off; she loves to laugh and laughs often; she doesn't like her food to touch; she loves Mr. Potato Head especially his hats; she is very smart, sort of scary-smart (Harvard - is that expensive?); she sleeps through the night without waking; she smells really really good; and she has delicate hands.

Does it bother me that she's more attached to my husband? Absolutely not. I'm happy she's making her way into our family in the manner she finds most comfortable. (Also, it makes up for the many, many times that Georgia preferred me to my husband).

Today we go back to the civil affairs office to finalize the documents that will lead to a passport and a visa for Song Song to travel home with us. Three days of paperwork and more travels through Middle Earth, then a week of waiting before receiving the documents, taking an oath at the U.S. Consulate, then travelling home.

Her name is Anna Song Song Marshall.

Guangzhou - Day One

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Sun, 10 Jun 2007 18:23:00 +0000

The picture above is the view from the top of our hotel room.

After sixteen hours in the air, we arrived in Guangzhou at 2:00 a.m. Sunday morning, Guangzhou time. It is monsoon season here and we arrived in the middle of what appeared to be one. Our baggage wasn't unloaded until the weather improved, so we got to sleep at about 4 a.m. I could probably sleep amidst gunfire on a Beirut sidewalk, and therefore getting five or six hours of sleep wasn't a problem.

Guangzhou is in Southeast Asia; it has rained since we arrived but it is too hot to wear much. The sky isn't blue but white with steam. It's kind of like the steam room at my gym. By comparison, Virginia in the summer time is arid. Every building and every street and every alley smells the same - a combination of wet wood, orange, and - curiously - plastic. Not a bad smell at all, in fact, it smells clean here.

The people here are warm and kind. We are staying in a tourist area built by Europeans in the 1860's, called Shamian Island. Our hotel is nicer than any hotel in which I stayed in Europe. Because our hotel and the other "luxury" hotel on the island cater to Americans adopting Chinese babies, we have met several American families. Interestingly, many of the adopting families we have met are here for the second or third time adopting their second or third Chinese child. I met an American man who has travelled back and forth from the U.S. for ten years "delivering airplanes" who said there are more millionaires in China than in any other country in the world. He may be right, but the Chinese people in the service industry are not likely living lives of excess.

Ironically, while this country produces a steady supply of abandoned children, the Chinese people have an obvious love of children - Chinese and American. Our six year-old daughter has been pinched affectionately and stroked on the arm by strangers, and she is a bit of a spectacle with her huge eyes and fair skin. I'm stared at because I am an amazon by their standards, and probably because my hair is light blond. I read somewhere that staring is typical, and not discouraged as in the U.S.

We will meet our guide, Jennifer who will take us to the civil affairs office here at 3:00 p.m. to get Song Song. We were prepped the day before we left by a social worker from the agency who advised us on what to expect the first few days and weeks. Apparently it is not uncommon for the child to attach to one parent at first and to ignore the other, and it is also common for the ignored-parent to be the mother. So I'm prepared for that. However, because Georgia is with us, the experts anticipate that she'll first attach to Georgia, then slowly warm to us.

If I don't respond to your comments, it's only because I can't operate the response-feature on my blog. I do get comments by e-mail, though, so please know how much I appreciate them!

Lift-Off

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Fri, 08 Jun 2007 05:32:00 +0000

I awoke this morning at 5:32 a.m. with a migraine. I get them a couple times a month, so I got up, took a Maxalt, and fell back asleep.

I dreamed that we lived in a palace; our bedroom was peach and bronze and everything was covered in silk and satin. My husband and I spent as much time in this room as possible, and didn't want to leave.

Then I went searching for lip-gloss. In that inexplicable way that the thread of a plot line in a dream darts forward and backward in time, I kept buying lip-gloss at the store and losing it, then buying some more. And I couldn't read the print on the tube.

So I'm leaving in an hour for the airport, and the most my subconscious mind can come up with is anxiety over losing lip-gloss? Maybe it was a stress dream. But that bedroom was amazing . . .

We're ready to go and excited to sit in one place for ten hours, watching DVDs and reading magazines. It's been a hectic week.

Tune in a few days from now; hopefully I'll have taken some pictures of Guangzhou.

Two Days and Counting

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Wed, 06 Jun 2007 18:47:00 +0000

There are piles on the floor. First, my suitcase is packed with little clothes for Song Song and some little shoes, since she'll be leaving the orphanage with nothing. Georgia picked out the little shoes at Gymboree. My Mom has purchased a toddler book with A,B,C words. A good way for her to learn a little English. Most of my clothes and Georgia's are packed, although I have a medicine cabinet full of Cypro and other antibiotics for Song Song and Georgia in case they're sick that I have to find a place for. I'll go to Target after I'm done writing this and pick up Pepto Bismol and Imodium. Apparently, the easiest way to get sick is to forget to brush one's teeth with bottled water or by eating ice (which is just as bad as drinking the water).

In another pile are Ernie's (the dog's) food, blankets, and clothes (yes, I buy little outfits for my dog, it's a crime of which I am well aware) and a pile of food and litter for Holly the cat. Dad will drop us off at the airport Friday afternoon, then he'll drive both the dog and the cat to Vancouver where they will stay with Marion, a friend, and Dad, respectively.

I am dead tired from running around and filling prescriptions, packing, worrying about funding this venture, and from tying up loose ends. Fortunately, Leezerslawpartner will stand-in for me at work, and because he's smarter and prettier than I, may be asked to remain after I return (hee hee.)

Has anyone seen the first season of "Arrested Development?" I plan on watching all 22 episodes on the flight over. Good times.

Four Days and Counting

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Mon, 04 Jun 2007 18:00:00 +0000

Still the passports and Visas haven't arrived. I phoned the service this morning and was informed they were mailed out by U.P.S. on Friday.

The home equity loan we took out to finance the trip is approved, but my husband and I have to sign the closing documents today in order for the funds to hit our account by the time we leave. We are required to give the Chinese orphanage $4,500 in clean, unmarked U.S. bills and can't use travelers checks or any other currency. Due to the timing of the disbursement of funds, this means I will likely be travelling forty five minutes to my bank to withdraw the funds on the same day that we have to travel. I had hoped to avoid this kind of jam-packing of schedules.

You know that dream that you have over and over again that you're trying to make a flight and as the hours and minutes tick-by, you're still packing and still packing and still packing and you can't get to the airport in time and you look down and you're not wearing pants? This is how I feel right now.

But it's all worth it. Georgia is excited to meet her sister. She calls her "Sissy." She's going to be a wonderful sister, I'm sure.

Six Days and Counting

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Sat, 02 Jun 2007 15:36:00 +0000

We're hoping to take it easy today. Elliott has baseball practice in the morning, and we're having dinner with friends tonight. Four loverly families, two of which include the Calligan Sisters.

I'm still struggling with names. Elliott has nixed my favorites except Anna, Caroline, and Meredith, but he's offering no others to add to the list.

So I asked my six year old and her friend Monique, who stayed overnight at our house last night: "Monique," I said, "we need help with names." "Give me some ideas." Here's what I was peppered with, from my own daughter as well as Monique:

Flag Hair
Nostril
Barbara
Baby Buttocks
Mary
Boolamalooola
Possum
Doug

Meanwhile, our house languishes on the market with no real buyers. We're losing heart, and think we'll just let it sit, rather than yank it on and off. But that's why we have a realtor.

I hope the passports and visas arrive today. I am tempted to drink more than my allotted two glasses of wine per evening, but I resist. Wine's good for the soul but not the waistline.

Seven days and counting.

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Sat, 02 Jun 2007 02:21:00 +0000

Today we bought our airline tickets (nearly $7,000; four tickets to China, five tickets home) and met with the adoption agency to get the packet of documents we have to take with us - a gazzillion forms beginning with the letter "I" and having a three digit number after that. I still don't have all four of our passports (mine, my husband's, my daughter's and my Mom's) back from having the Visas processed, and I panicked when a co-worker who used to work in a passport office informed me that unless I purchased "expedited" processing for the Visas, I'd not get them in time. I called the service I used to process the Visas and was assured they'd arrive tomorrow.

Leezerslawpartner loaned me his laptop, which means I don't have to spend several of the precious hours I have left shopping for a computer. What a guy.

I think we're about ready. I might want to take a book for the 10 hour flight. Or maybe if I take the latest issue of "The Economist" I might finish the main article about the time we touch down.

Countdown - Eight

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Thu, 31 May 2007 17:34:00 +0000

Eight days until we head to Guangzhou to take custody of Song Song. Because we will lose a day traveling East, we have to leave on Friday June 9th in order to arrive on Sunday, June 11th. We will fly from Seattle to Tokyo, from Tokyo to Guangzhou. Right now in Guangzhou it is 90 degrees with 90 % humidity.

Our passports have not been returned from wherever they go to have the Visas processed (the passport accompanies a visa application because an entry visa is simply a stamp of approval on the passport) and I'm hoping they arrive in the next few days.

I am assembling the many legal documents I have to take with us and I feel like Radar on M.A.S.H. because following is but a sampling of the documents we have completed or have to take with us:

I-600A approval - Notice of Favorable Determination for Advanced Processing of Orphan Petition;
I-171H Approval - Proof of Valid Fingerprinting;
Medical Examination for Immigrant or Refugee Applicant;
I-604 Request for the Report on Overseas Orphan Investigation;
Form 230 Petition to Classify Orphan as Immediate Relative
I-864W Petition to Classify Orphan as Immediate Relative

I consider myself somewhat capable of finding my way through red tape. I managed to get a law degree and to keep it, but I don't think I would have ever been able to crash my way through this process without an agency telling me where to go and what to do.

Next there is the issue of cash. The day after we arrive in China, the orphanage will transport Song Song to the Civil Affairs office in the province where we will be staying. We will take custody of her on that day, but only after handing the orphanage $4,500 in U.S. currency. Since the largest denomination of U.S. currency is a $100 bill, this means I will be traveling with a bankroll. No travelers checks or any other form of exchange are accepted. This feels like we are planning a transaction with a South American drug lord. Apparently, this is the routine. The $4,500 is but the tip of the iceberg. When this adoption is complete, we will have spent approximately $25,000. Fortunately, we have paid this over time, not all at once. It has therefore not been too difficult. I'm not complaining, Song Song is a price beyond rubies. I'm just sayin.

Next there is the matter of names. A few weeks ago I posted a list of possibilities. That list has shortened, because Eliott and Georgia don't like Alex. (Sorry Mr. Hamilton, I tried, I really tried). Expat and MCS like Sarah, but for some inexplicable reason, the name Sarah brings to mind a rather matronly woman with large sagging breasts stuffed into a Gunny Sax dress. Sorry to offend any Sarahs out there.

Maiya is still a leading contender, although I ran a list of the top 100 girl names from 2006 and Maiya, including many variations of the spelling, were in the top twenty or so. I'm not too keen on extremely popular names.

We'd like to find something not too ethnic, as we want Song Song to have a name that meshes well with those of the rest of her family. That said, I don't want to give her a name that implies she wishes to have high tea with the Queen.

Why not leave her name Song Song? We will keep it, but I'd like to give her an American name to go with it.

Your assistance is appreciated.

Xanax

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Wed, 23 May 2007 10:29:00 +0000

It's 3:31 a.m. and I'm wide awake. Probably because I've got so much on my mind. We are supposed to be in China on June 11th, our house is for sale, and we found the house we want but we can't buy it because we have to sell ours first. And then there's the issue of money, which I won't discuss because then I'll never get to sleep.

But I digress. We have to be in China June 11th. Did I say that already? We fly to Shenzhen a week before the official ceremony at the Consulate in which Song Song becomes an American citizen. I'm still not sure of the itinerary, when we meet her and how long she's with us before the ceremony, but presumably we'll know soon.

We have to take a stack of documents with us, most of which I have copies, but the matter of going through them all and applying for our visas and gathering the hoards of money we need to accomplish this daunting task is staggering.

Xanax is a tranquilizer. I will be thankful if I can get through the next month sans prescription medication.

Shots. Names.

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Wed, 16 May 2007 19:33:00 +0000

We got our shots Monday. Hepatitis A for me and my husband, none for our daughter. We'll take a series of typhoid (pills) before we go, and take along antibiotics for stomach ailments, if any, and insect repellent. I have an inhaler for allergies to the dense pollution.

We're thinking of names. Here are the leading contenders:

Alex
Maiya (pronounced "my-yuh")
Anna
Ellie
Minnie (just kidding)
Ann
Meredith
Celery (kidding again.)

Your thoughts?

Fingerprints

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Tue, 08 May 2007 19:34:00 +0000

According to Wikipedia, that font of veracity, the Koala is the only mammal, other than the primate, who share fingerprints as a distinguishing characteristic unique to each individual of the species. To my knowledge, the Koala can't sew on a button or play Chopin on the piano, so I still feel superior.

About a year ago we received a notice from Homeland Security that we were scheduled to be fingerprinted on a particular day. We were to arrive at the Homeland Security offices in Seatac, Washington at 8:00 a.m. sharp. Unfortunately, we had already made plans to be in Mexico that week. Curiously enough, the office that mailed the notice was located in Yakima, Washington. All scheduling inquiries were to be made through that office.

For those of you unfamiliar with Washington State, Yakima is in Eastern Washington, and it is nothing but farm land. The Western half of the state is wet and green, and the Eastern half of the state is arid and brown. Except where irrigation has been constructed. The Western and the Eastern halves of the state are divided by the Cascade Mountains. Calling Yakima to arrange a fingerprinting appointment to take place near Seattle seemed like calling your great aunt Noreen who you haven't seen in thirty years to ask her where your husband put the scissors. But I phoned the number as instructed. A nice lady changed our appointment time no problem.

The Homeland Security building is clearly constructed and designed for people for whom English is not their first language. After entering the double doors, nothing was in view except a bank teller-type of window where a security guard directed people to the correct line. Several lines were positioned throughout the building, and each person received a ticket depending upon the type of fingerprinting or authorization that person was receiving.

We waited in uncomfortable chairs for about twenty minutes and my husband's number was called first. Mine was called about ten minutes later, and my then five-year old went with me into a large, sterile looking room containing the fingerprinting equipment. I expected my fingertips to be inked black and rolled on a piece of card stock, but apparently that method of fingerprinting hasn't been used for awhile. Rather, state of the art digital imaging equipment is used.

A nice lady cleaned off the fingers and thumbs of each hand with rubbing alcohol, then she grabbed the thumb of my right hand first, rolling it around on piece of glass that looks just like the scanner in a supermarket. My thumbprint showed up on a screen at eye-level, but the word,"match" kept popping onto the screen until, apparently she scanned my thumbprint in such a way as to not illicit the "match" prompt. This process she repeated for eight fingers and two thumbs. While it took my husband only a few minutes to be fingerprinted, it took me about twenty. The nice lady fingerprinting me finally brought someone over and they mumbled something to one another about "A-12" or "Piece-image" or something, but I have no idea what they were talking about.

I remain concerned that all the "match" prompts might inconvenience me in some way. For example, what if I am minding my own business, chopping firewood in my knickers in front of Safeway, when I am suddenly whisked away by federal authorities because they suspect I am the master mind in the latest round of casino heists? Should I be concerned about this? I think so too.

Flow

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Tue, 24 Apr 2007 17:54:00 +0000

I have four stones on my desk at work, each etched with a Chinese symbol. The first is the symbol for courage, the second is the symbol for beauty, the third is the symbol for change, and the fourth is the symbol for river.

The symbol for river is three parallel lines etched in black ink on a white polished rock. It is my favorite of the four. It reminds me that life possesses a current, and while it's possible to direct one's course, fighting against the current is fruitless. It's best to let the current assist in one's course.

When we discovered that adopting a healthy infant from China would take two years, my husband and I asked our agency to supply us with information about any children who are older but who haven't been adopted yet due to minor medical issues (such as needing glasses or having a birth mark, for example. Depending on the country, these children are sometimes considered an embarrassment because they are "imperfect.") We explained to the agency that we hoped that the gap in our children's ages are not too wide, so that they might share some of the same interests and activities. So the agency started sending us information about older children.

Several of the children had cleft palates. I didn't realize that correction of a cleft palate requires several surgeries throughout the child's life. As the jaw and face grows, more surgeries are needed. Often speech therapy is necessary, and children with this condition may be more susceptible to certain infections. Depending upon insurance, some - but not all - medical intervention may be covered.

Another child we considered had a large port wine stain on her upper lip. The doctors we consulted thought it might fade over time, but that was speculation. We told the agency we would like to be adopt her, but another family was chosen. Fortunately for this child, she was wanted by more than one family.

Song Song's medical records arrived along with medical records for a little girl with a cleft lip and palate that was corrected. Song Song's medical condition was a kidney problem that was corrected. We sent both sets of medical records to the University of Washington Center for Adoption Medicine for review. A few weeks after the doctors had a chance to look at both sets of records, we had a meeting with them. My initial impression of each medical profile was that Song Song's condition involved more unknowns, and the other little girl had no outstanding issues. In fact, the opposite was the case. The little girl with the cleft palate would require a lot of medical care in the future, while Song Song appears to have no outstanding medical issues.

Through this review, we felt as though we were studying the teeth of a racehorse. It was necessary to evaluate the impact this child's health will have on our family. Because Song Song's health appears to be optimal, we chose her.

That said, I knew she was ours the moment I saw her picture. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just the current, carrying me along.

Race

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Sun, 22 Apr 2007 23:50:00 +0000

This is a picture of my maternal grandfather in his WW I uniform. His eyes were the color of water. He was a first generation American; his parents were born in Sweden, and left that country poor and hungry at the turn of the century. They came through Ellis Island with thousands of other Swedes with the last name Swanson. I tried to locate them in the Ellis Island registry but gave up when, after an hour, I was only on first names beginning with "A."

When I was in law school I spent an evening riding in a patrol car with a City of Seattle police officer as extra credit for Criminal Procedure. The officer was Asian, and offered that it bothered him when people asked him where his family is "from." He explained that his ancestors were Chinese, but came to America in the early 1800's to build the railroads. The officer was born in the U.S., as had been five or six generations before him. No one has ever asked me where my family is "from."

The adoption agency we're using requires that families adopting a child of another race - in our case, Chinese - consider the child's feelings when others ask about the child's ancestry and when the child is old enough to inquire about it. We had to attend workshops and read materials about how a black or Asian child may likely feel growing up with people who don't look anything like the rest of the family. The agency required us to sign a statement to the effect that we promise to expose our Chinese daughter to her heritage, and the statement required us to enumerate exactly what resources in our community we might help us with this. Fortunately, Seattle has a huge Chinese population and there are many ways to celebrate Chinese holidays, to take classes in Mandarin, and to participate in the arts so that our daughter will know what her culture is like.

There are no guarantees, however, that she'll be interested in her culture. The agency related a story about one family who adopted a boy from Korea. They dutifully enrolled the little boy in all things Korean: marital arts, language, cooking, etc. The adopted child could not care less about the Korean culture, yet their biological child became obsessed with anything Korean. We don't intend to make our home a Mandarin home. We will wait until our adopted daughter expresses an interest in her culture before we become immersed in it. What we wish for her, fundamentally, is that she knows she is loved, and that she is an American.

Kate

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Wed, 18 Apr 2007 11:48:00 +0000

Many aspects of the adoption process inspired in me a certain amount of apprehension, chief among them was the Homestudy. The Homestudy is exactly that - the study of one's home. In anticipation of this event, I scoured my house and quizzed my daughter on manners; any deviation from a healthy, happy household, I feared, would be tantamount to lying on a bed of red velvet pillows in a sequined bra and harem pants with a hookah hanging from my lips, opium clouds swirling toward the ceiling.

The social worker from the agency, Kate, called ahead of time to "assuage any concerns" about the Homestudy, explaining that the meeting shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, and that the purpose was to give the agency an idea of what our home looked like, to talk to any other members of the household about the adoption process, and to "answer any questions." I said I understood. Still, I thought, they need to make sure we don't keep yak in the basement or a have pit twenty feet deep from which bamboo spears are positioned skyward, camouflaged by a grassy cover.

Any anxiety I felt quickly evaporated when I met Kate. She called a few hours before we were supposed to meet and apologized for forgetting the appointment time, "but," she explained, "my car was broken into inside my garage and my laptop stolen, which contained all my scheduling information." She, too, wanted to make a good impression. And she did. She arrived on time, blond, blue-eyed, and very warm and friendly. She spent about an hour with us going over adoption basics - the type of child we felt would be a good fit with our family, whether we preferred a boy or a girl, how old we preferred the child to be. She also explained why she was asking these questions at our home, rather than asking that we meet at the agency: she needed to look at our surroundings. She explained that many people who haven't had any children adopt a toddler, but are unaware of safety issues in the home or of the type of stuff they need. She also wanted to talk to our daughter about her thoughts, which took about two minutes because our daughter, who was four years old at the time of the Homestudy, was able to see only about five minutes into the future. Accordingly, she said she felt "fine" about adopting a sister, and thought it would be "fun." Check.

Kate walked through our house, stating that we ought to put a baby gate at the top of the stairs, (duh), and asking where the baby's room would be. She also went over information that is stressed over and over again with adoptions - that the baby or child might have separation anxiety when they are first brought home. Kate was right. The meeting took only an hour and a half, and she had no "concerns" after going through our home and talking with us. (After she left I let the yak back into the kitchen).

Mommy Track

lmarshall119@yahoo.com (Lisa) — Thu, 05 Apr 2007 21:13:00 +0000

Within five minutes of being in my parents' presence, one of them will tell you that when I was little I wanted to be a "tennis pro or a CIA agent when I grew up." True, I fancied myself a person of action, either winning tournaments or fighting crime. I never looked into the future and imagined myself a mother. To the extent I thought about motherhood at all, it was in an abstract sense. Meaning that I thought it was something I'd get to one day, in the same way one "gets to" moving into a bigger house when a smaller one is outgrown or moves to a different town for a better job. I had no specific images, the way I had specific images of other feats.

The year I graduated from law school, a woman with whom I took the BAR exam started working for a large firm of trial lawyers and I went to work with an attorney that had just started his own firm advising cities, mostly so that he could do things the way they should be done and so he could spend more time with his family. When my daughter was born, I left my partners and reduced my work schedule. Thirteen years later, I my income is a fraction of this woman's; I haven't been inside a courtroom in a year, and I've not accepted any invitations to speak at conferences I attend in my chosen field. The vernacular for this state is "Mommy track."

I couldn't be happier. I drop my daughter off at school in the morning, hold her hand until she enters the classroom, and I'm the first person she sees when the bell rings in the afternoon. In between, I work about four or five hours as an attorney for a small city. From my daughter's point of view, I am a stay at home mom. But I am fortunately able to keep one foot planted in a career that I love as much as anyone could, and that has given me so much.

The woman I referred to above is in trial several weeks a year, and she is very notable within trial lawyer circles. The other day, I had to research a piece of proposed legislation, and when I went online to see who had testified against this particular bill, there was her name - she also belongs to a trial lawyer's association. She is a partner in her law firm, and trains other lawyers and speaks regularly at conferences. She also has two young sons.

When I imagine her life, I try very hard to view it in a light most favorable to her, meaning that I wish to believe she is a good mother to her sons and that they want for nothing. However, I am left wondering who takes care of them. I think she has a nanny. I would not be able to stomach a nanny. Nannys, governesses, highly-paid babysitters - they're all paid to do what mom can't get to because of her career. I can't imagine anyone else raising my children. When does my colleague go on field trips, help out in the lunch room, engage in the rather tedious task of nightly homework?

I really don't think it's possible to "have it all." No one knows who I am in my field anymore. I don't really care. My daughter knows who I am.