Better day

I woke this morning with a feeling of dread. We had to head back to
the same hotel where we met Ren to finalize the paperwork, and I
doubted he would like the excursion.

Surprisingly, he only woke once in the middle of the night. He was
awake for about 1/2 hour, but calmed down instantly as soon as I put
on his shoes. We're not sure why, but he really wants those shoes on
at all times. I've been waiting until he falls asleep to take them
off and then make sure I set them somewhere where they are instantly
ready. It would seem his shoes are his transition object, and I'm not
going to argue with that.

We headed to the hotel and I dreaded every inch as we sped along. I
was hoping for a traffic jam to delay the moment. Wouldn't you know
it, none to be found. How could you not hit a traffic jam in China
when you need one? My fears, though, prooved to be misplaced. He was
not particularly upset by being there and his demeanour was very much
the same most of the morning. A general sadness with a hint of
reluctant acquiesence.

We did see a little more of his personality start to come today and I
can tell you, he has the most musical laugh. It's multi-toned and
rather brilliant. Kiyomi, once again, has been the source of his
smiles and giggles for the most part, although Kohji is managing to
solicit a few giggles here and there. Ren also ate a fairly decent
lunch and dinner, and while not wholeheartedly tucking into food, we
are relieved to see that he is willing and able to eat and drink.

He is showing a definite preference for me, especially when he's upset
or tired. He likes to be carried for the most part, although he was
willing to walk around this afternoon as we wandered through the
People's Park. This is a large Park right near the hotel with an
artificial lake and a variety of amusements including rides, roller
skating and, for those more nautically inclined, human hamster balls
on the water. The park was a nice outing for us and the kids, but
there is a very different feel in these things in China. For lack of
any other words, I would say it seems a little trapped in time,
although for the life of me, I wouldn't be able to tell you what time
period. It just has the feel of having been built and remained
exactly as is for decades. It is obviously a popular spot in the city
though, as the place was teeming today (although I suspect it was
pretty quiet by Nanning standards).

Of course, wandering the Park meant subjecting ourselves to the stares
and I admit, there is a part of me that wants to hide out in the hotel
to avoid being the subject of such attention. Most of you know how
much I love being the center of attention, so having strangers openly
stare and comment about me and my family is uncomfortable, espcially
with the communication barrier. A warm spot on the walk though was
that I did notice on a couple of occassions, Ren wandered ahead, but
turned to look for me. I know it's a small thing and it might even be
temporary, but it's not nothing. The one thing this process teaches
you is to rejoice in the small things, even if they are fleating.

Good night from Nanning.

Words fail...

It's near impossible to describe this process. The anticipation, the
fears, the tears - both happy and sad. Ren is now a part of our
family, but he is in no way happy about it and I can't say that I
blame him.

We killed the morning with some ping-pong and watched the clock until
the appointed hour. Man, can those things move slow. Our guide was
also 15 minutes late, so we were standing in the lobby feeling anxious
and conspicuous for a little while. While he isn't rude or difficult,
I definitely get the impression our guide is none too thrilled with
his job. It did give us a chance though to meet a family from Georgia
who would be meeting their 8 year old daughter.

It was a relatively short drive to the hotel where Ren was already
waiting with a nanny and some of the orphanage officials. We were
ushered up to the fourth floor, and as we turned the corner, we caught
our first glimpse of him toddling down the hall with the nanny. My
heart fell back down to the main floor of the building. I can't
explain why, but there was something so determined and vulnerable
about him all at the same time.

We were led into a large room obviously set up just for this purpose
with a couple of rockers and balls and couches lining one wall. We
waited and could hear the chattering in the hall before Ren was
finally led in. The first few minutes, he watched us uncomfortably
and when his nanny referred to me as 'mama', he looked at her like she
was crazy. He was tentative and uncertain, and rightfully so. With
Kiyomi's help, I spent much of the time trying to get him comfortable
with us, while Kohji learned what he could about Ren's habits, likes,
etc. from the nanny with the guide translating.

I simply can't put into words the feelings - there are none. It is
not elation, though there is some happiness. There is no happiness
for Ren though, and we are expecting the transition to be a tough
one. He insists on keeping his shoes on when he's awake and often
points to the door. We can tell he was well loved in his foster
home. His foster mother dressed him in new clothing, sent along his
favourite drinks, saved the photo book we sent and added some of her
own. His loss is an enormous one, and we can't replace her. We can
only offer what we have, and hope that is enough.

All has not been tears however. After getting back to the hotel, Ren
napped from pure emotional exhaustion. When he woke up, he did drink
a little of the sweet milk his foster mother packed for him and was
willing to accept cheerios from me. After that, we had about 20
minutes where he played happily with his cars, laughed at Kiyomi's
goofiness and wandered the room with a little more certainty. It was
a brief flash of his personality before the grief set in again.

Kiyomi is taking it all in stride and doing her best to be helpful.
She is excited and explains that she knows that Ren is sad because he
doesn't know us yet. I'm sure it's strange for her, especially as it
seems Ren prefers me at the moment and doesn't want to be put down.
It's strange for me too, and after only one afternoon, I miss her
already.

Ren and Kiyomi are now both sleeping the sleep that only children can -
utterly complete and all encompassing with arms flailed out.
Tomorrow, we head out early to the same hotel to complete more
paperwork and make our promises to care for Ren.

Good night from Nanning.

Not in Kansas

"We're not in Kansas anymore Toto".

The first words that popped into my head as we drove the stretch from
the Nanning Airport to our hotel. I knew the part of Beijing that we
were in was fairly westernized, but it's hard to fully understand that
until you get away from there.

Let's start with the that since we left the other adopting families,
I've been the only white person in the room. We flew out of the
domestic terminal - and mine was certainly the only white face on the
plane.

Coming into Nanning, you could immediately see that the landscape is
far more lush and green than aything around Beijing. Stepping off the
plane into the dense humidity felt like descending into a tropical
storm. It was certainly a contrast from yesterda's Beijing dust
storm. Ironically, as we came into a drizzly Sunday afternoon, we
read in a paper that their is a drought here in Guangxi.

Nanning itself is also more what you envision when you think of
stereotypical China - no English signs, moppeds everywhere, cramped
shops crammed with wares up to the ceiling and open to the street, the
shop keepers often lingering out front - somethings in conversation
with a group of others. There is also more of an industrial feel here
with Soviet-style block grey architecture and massive apartment
complexes that appear deserted.

If all that wasn't enough, this evening's buffet offered such wares as
fried bullfrog and grilled roach (although I think this last was
actually some sort of fish). Feeling a little overwhelmed overall,
especially considering what is to come tomorrow, I elected not to
partake of the frog or the roach.

Of interest in the fact that Guangxi is actually an Autonomous Region
because of the high minority population here. While most Chinese are
Han, there are also a number of minority groups across the country.
In Guangxi, the Zhuang people are the dominant minority group and the
province has special political status as a means of helping to
preserve tne interests of that minority. For example, elected
officials have to be from the Zhuang minority and those in the
minority groups are exempt from the one-child policy.

We got some information about tomorrow - we're to meet our guide at
2:30 to head over to another hotel where we'll receive Ren. Not
exactly what was in the itinerary we received (which said we'd be
going to the Civil Affairs office), but then again, our guide Lancey
turned into a Glen, so we're electing to roll with the punches. So,
by the time Ottawa wakes up on Monday morning, we should be with Ren.

Given it was a travel day, there are only a few pictures - mainly
killing time in the airport.

Good night from Nanning.

The Beijing 'hood

Pretty uneventful day, so not a lot of pictures. In fact, almost
everything we did today was familiar – including bargaining at the
silk market – and that was surprisingly comforting, especially as
jetlag is still messing with my head.

We all managed to sleep straight through to 5:30, when we heard Kiyomi
ask plaintively - "Is it morning yet?" I would have happily slept a
couple more hours, but that wasn't going to happen once Kiyomi
announced "I'll check guys!" and flung open the curtains.

So, we started off on the day a little fatigued, but not too bad. We
decided to hit the silk market before jetlag muddled the thinking
process. It was very much as we remembered from a few years ago –
several floors of chaos and "hey pretty lady; you need watch/t-
shirt/bag?" I knew the drill from practice rather than theory this
time, so it was less intimidating, although no less exhausting. They
also seemed a little less aggressive and in your face than last time
and the Market in general seemed slower. Almost as if they were still
recovering from the Olympic onslaught. Nonetheless, after about 3
transactions, I was spent.

A slightly different obstacle for us this time around was the number
of vendors – in particular women – who wanted to say hello to Kiyomi
and stroke her hair. I must have heard 100 times - "She very
pretty". So much so, that I even got something for FREE from a
vendor. I kid you not. For those of you who have been to the Market,
you know that the vendors will put their soul into negotiations over
10 yuan. A women in one of the shops where I bought an outfit for Ren
thought it wasn't fair that I didn't buy something for Kiyomi too, so
she gave her a silk head band. I thought she was just trying to
entice Kiyomi with the old "hook the kid, force the parents" trick.
But when I started to tell Kiyomi she didn't need a headband, this
women looked at me and said in slightly irritated English while
patting down Kiyomi's hair - "She nice girl. I give her even if you
don't buy the dress." She then laughed at my incredulous - "You mean
free?!"

On that note, I've also noticed that a number of people feel compelled
to stare and point at Kiyomi. These 'looks' aren't much different in
tone or intonation than the furtive and sidelong ones we get back in
Canada, but the cultural differences mean that the Chinese don't try
to hide them. Goes to show that culturally, there may be differences,
but thoughts and feelings can be surprisingly similar.

After teh Silk Market, we sought refuge from the chaos of barganning
in a 14th Qing Dynasty Observatory not far from our hotel. Again,
this was something we visited last time we were here, but this time it
was a tad less sweltering and we explored a part we had missed
previously. The highlight for Kiyomi wasn't the 500 year old iron
astrological instruments, but the dandelions which could be picked
with abandon. Nothing like putting things in a kinder-perspective!

Tomorrow (Sunday), we're off to Guangxi and we'll meet Ren on Monday.
There are four other families here, although none of them will be
coming to Guangxi, so we'll be on our own for the week. Very
different from the last time when we were here with a small entourage
of 17 families.

Coherency is quickly slipping, so I'm off to bed. Good night ... from
Beijing.

Hope this work...

It would seem that the great Chinese cyber-wall won't allow direct
access to blogger, so we're trying the email method. That means these
posts are a bit a shot in the dark, since I don't know if they'll
actually post. The photos will also be a little random, but beggars
can't be choosers. Perhaps someone out there would be kind enough to
send us an email to let us know whether these are indeed getting
through (9 wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

Beijing is much as I remember it, and yet somehow different.

The first real difference I noticed was that we didn't need to wade
into the great human river at the Beijing airport. In fact, arriving
here felt no different than any other international airport - people
milling about, some holding signs, others obviously scanning the crowd
for a particular person. Nothing like the crushing wall of humanity
that greeted us on our last arrival.

Having chased, but failed to catch any sleep on the plane, my mind was
pretty much mush for most of the ride from the airport. Our guide –
Lyli – is originally from Hunan Province and actually has a 20 year
old son studying math in California. She was instantly smitten with
Kiyomi and has been fussing and spoiling her with attention and
helping her gather little flowers for an ever expanding collection
(which, come to think of it, are all amassed on Obaajan's jacket
pocket.) I can happily say between Obaachan and Lily, Kiyomi is in
far better hands than she's ever been with us!

I recognized the neighbourhood we're staying in instantly, but was
shocked to see an entire city block reduced to rubble. On our first
trip here, this block had little shops and we saw our first Peking
duck hanging from windows. Now, it is literally a pile of rubble
behind construction walls. Evidence of the speed, strength and
rapidity of change in China.

Kiyomi crashed hard in the bus from the airport and so was raring to
go once she dropped the nap fog that inevitably hits after any nap.
This morning, she announced out of the blue - "Come on guys, today's
going to be a fun day!" I think that girl has travelling in her blood.

Friday morning was some wandering – getting our bearings. Being in a
familiar environment was helpful for tackling the jetlag fog, although
being up early, we also found ourselves trapped in the upscale
Oriental Plaza as many of the doors hadn't opened yet. We managed to
escape when a local woman took pity on us poor wandering, bewildered
foreigners and led us to the nearest exit. You'd think if we got in,
it wouldn't have been that hard to get out... but you'd be wrong.

Friday afternoon, we headed to Beihai (which from what I understood
from our guide means "no sea") Park – a large park on the west side of
the Forbidden City. The White Pagoda – a shrine built in the Yuang
Dynasty – is the centerpiece of the park and provides wonderful views
of the city. Although we couldn't get all the way to the top, the
temples and grounds were beautiful and blessedly only moderately busy
by Beijing standards. Tucked in a corner of the park is a massive
jade cauldron which was used as a wine vessel by Kublah Khan himself.
Pretty amazing to lay your eyes something so old and steeped in
history that the Mongol leader himself laid hands on it.

No set plans for tomorrow – perhaps a little shopping for kid things –
but for now sleep awakes. Jetlag is really kicking my butt, so I only
managed to sleep until about 4 this morning. Have managed to force
myself to stay awake all day – but sounded like I was half baked
while reading Kiyomi's bedtime story as my eyes fluttered and the
words blurred. Don't ask me what we read, it never even made it into
short-term memory.

Good night, once again from Beijing...

Countdown

There is a really silly dance song going through my head - Tic Tok. I
can't remember who sings it, but it's a dumb song. The chorus,
however, is mesmorizing - "tik toc, don't stop, til you hear your body
rock..." Or something to that effect... Ok, ok, sure she's talking
about being young and stupid and going out to party - but really isn't
that the same thing as hopping a plane to travel half way around the
world to adopt a little boy? It's totally the same, right?! Humour
me...

Certainly resonates with my addled brain at the moment anyway. It's
like temporary attention deficit (or at least I'm hoping it's
temporary) has set in. I can't seem to accomplish the very task that
brought me into any particular room. Oh sure, I get a couple other
things done, but the original task is often left incomplete, if it's
even started at all. For example, at the moment, 1/2 the dishes are
unloaded from the dishwasher, but I'm sitting here typing because it
dawned on me that I needed to make sure I could test a post to blogger
over email. It's also taken me about 20 minutes to write these fews
lines because I've thus far - watered the plants, started the laundry
and then checked why the washer was making that weird sound. And of
course, I had to bring in the mail when I glimpsed the mailman out the
window. Of course, when I came down the stairs, I had intended to
head straight out the door to run a couple errands.

In the interest of getting this post finished, I'm ending it before I
leave it too half finished. Attaching a couple of recent pictures as
a way of testing the theory blogger will post photos that you include
as attachments - of course, if they don't appear, you have no way of
knowing whether it's because it didn't work or I forgot to post them
or I just messed it up. The sad part, is likely, neither will I.
Sigh...

More than the sum of their parts

I've been thinking about loss a lot lately . I know, it's an odd thing to be thinking about on the cusp of joining our son. But really, it is because we are about to adopt our son that these things have come to mind. There is always a mix of emotions on the precipice of parenthood - joy, anxiety, elation, fear - but adoption brings something different to the table.

You see, in order for adoption to occur, children have to endure unimaginable loss. Yes, there is much to be gained, but the losses are equally great. Loss is a part of life, and we all experience it in some form or another. But, for adopted kids, it's front end loaded. Before Kiyomi reached her first birthday, she had lost a birth family, a foster family, a culture, a country, a life history and a way of life. Yes, she gained a family that belongs to her no matter what, a new country, new opportunities and the unconditional love and support of a stable and constant family. But she gave up much too. And we saw the effect that the loss had on her - we watched a vibrant little girl shut down into herself in order to cope with the momentus loss. We were lucky, and slowly, we saw her re-emerge. First with little smiles and giggles, then with full body laughs, coy glances, determined stares and all the other things that are so much a part of the little girl we love today.

We can't balance it out the losses and the gains - it's not a ledger sheet. All we can do is acknowledge and respect the loss and make room for it in our family. Ren will be experiencing this same loss before he reaches the age of two. It's alot to ask of anyone, never mind an infant or toddler.

Experiencing this loss, however, does not mean that my children will be forever defined by it. They are more than just adopted. They are Chinese, they are (or will be) Canadian, they are children, they are stubborn, they are active, they are sweet, they are senstive, they are strong AND they are adopted. My children are more than just the sum of their parts and how they deal with their loss will be complex and personal to them. They may be confused, hurt, angry, sad, perplexed, indifferent. They may grieve, act out, search for answers, question, accept or just be. Their losses will be a part of them, but it is not all they are or will ever be. As parents, all we can do is help them negotiate it and provide that unquestioning, unending love and support.

Understanding and believing that joy and happiness can cooexist with loss and grief is part of being an adoptive parent. Making space in our family to mourn the lose and process whatever emotions result will be, for me, an important part of providing my children with the support they deserve. But remembering that they are more than the sum of their parts - there is more to them than their losses - will be integral to helping them build their identies and deal with those losses.

We're only a couple weeks away now from travelling to join Ren. I'm eagerly apprehensive, and I think appropriately so. It's the mark of a parent that our first thoughts turn to our childrens' feelings and well-being. Yes, I'm eager to join Ren and to start our lives together as a family. But, I'm not eager to put Ren through the turmoil and trauma of leaving his foster family and the country of his birth, nor am I eager to turn Kiyomi's world upside down by taking her to the land where she was born and restructuring her place in the family from only child to big sister. These will be hard transitions for our kids. In the long-run, I believe they will be happy and well, but I don't harbour any illusions that our union will be easy on any of us. Will it be joyful? Yes. But this will also be one of those times where happiness will need to coexist, and even intermingle, with pain and loss. And that's ok...

Lest you all think it's all been introspection and worry, here's a collage of the Easter weekend in Toronto with the cousins. There was fun, there was frivolity, there was an Easter bunny and, of course, there was chocolate.

And so it begins

I'll tell you something about waiting - it can be all consuming.

There is something about it that takes over your life. I know it sounds weird to say. I mean, really how can nothing take up your life? If you're waiting, there is no time commitments, no demands, no deadlines. You're just waiting.

The best analogy I can think of is to think back to when you were a kid and you were told you were going to the amusement park or a birthday party or the zoo or anything that would send you into dizzying anticipation. Now, usually there was a wait. A few days, a few hours, a few minutes. Didn't really matter because once you knew, it was all you thought about. You woke up in the morning thinking about it, you brushed your teeth thinking about it, ate your breakfast, played at recess. Oh sure, there were moments of distraction - a fight over marbles, an all consuming game of freeze tag, a trip to the corner store for ice cream. But always, your mind crept back to the amusement park, knowing it was tantalizingly close and yet seemed too far away. It's presence enticed you and frustrated you all at the same time. So much so that even the mention of it was unbearable, even though some part of your brain was permanently fixated on it.

It might surprise some of you to know that waiting can have the same effect on you as an adult. Sure, you can fake it better - you won't stand around the water cooler vibrating with anticipation or tear down the street yelling at the top of your lungs - but the same anticipation bubbles under your skin, commands your brain and pretty much consumes any free head space that is foolhardy enough to remain available. It gets in your head like one of those annoying princess pop songs that seem to float around and come out of your mouth without you even realizing it - without even really realizing it you're walking down the street singing Hannah Montana! Or in our case, you're mentally reviewing the calendar, counting off weeks, playing out possible scenarios. It's maddening.

And so it is with some relief that we can now happily say, WE HAVE FINALLY RECEIVED TRAVEL APPROVAL. Almost 5 months to the day of getting Ren's referral, the next stage of the paperwork came through. What's more, as of today, we now have exactly 5 weeks to get our butts to China. So all those things that I've been putting off because, well it just added to the sense of longing and frustration, now must get done in 5 weeks in addition to all the travel prep. It's a good frantic though, really...

We leave at the end of April, and for the moment, the itinerary has us travelling to Guangxi on the 25th and joining Ren on that same day. As per usual, however, all things are subject to change. However, what is not in doubt is that we are leaving for China at the end of April - tickets have been booked and accommodations are being reserved.

Time has not been standing still of course (although it felt like it at times). We have seen our first unbelievable growth spurt in Kiyomi. She sprouted an inch in a month. Within a few weeks all her pants became capris and her little dresses became long shirts. Not to mention that 'out of reach' has had to be re-evaluated in this house.

Much to her dad's utter delight, Kiyomi has totally taken to winter sports this year. Skating was a particular passion and the canal was a favourite haunt, and not just because of the gooey pastries available ice-side. She went from shuffling along to honest to goodness gliding within a couple skates. In fact, in one instance, she took off down the canal while I was still stuggling to stuff my skate on. Here's a small snippet of what I had to chase with one skate half done-up.

Kiyomi has also taken to skiing with equal enthusiasm. Her downhill lessons were a hit and ended with a bang when the entire ski school dressed in costumes and paraded down the hill on

the final day. She had a blast, especially as she took the class with 3 of her little buddies and they spent every Saturday afternoon tearing up the slopes.

Cross-country hasn't been given short-shrift either, and this season, we ditched the pulk (in large part because neither on of us were willing to tow the 36 pds kid plus the 10 pds sled). Kiyomi was able to ski all the way into the cabins, with some end of ski pole towing.

Pat and Sheila visited us for an all too short weekend visit from the far reaches of Winnipeg. We skied, ate and hit the bird sanctuary - all of which proved to be popular activities.

In a rather momentous occasion, Kiyomi's long-time companion, Elton, got a bath. That bear has been with Kiyomi since the day she arrived in Canada. Elton has been to Chicago, Australia, Japan, California and a few other places, but has never, ever had a bath. No trauma or seperation anxiety ensued, but the smell was way better afterwards.

The parting shot for tonight is a little long, but really, who doesn't love 5 Little Monkeys.

A triple conspiracy

Three developments have conspired this week to bring me to one undeniable conclusion: I am getting older.

Yah, yah, I know it's an obvious assertion, but humour me a little...

The first conspiratorial event is that I hurt my back... while brushing my teeth.

Oh I'd love to be able to say it was the ski on Saturday, or the run on Monday, or the rides on the new trainer last week, but well, it wasn't. Now, in hindsight, I'm sure there was probably some underlying problem that I simply noticed while I was brushing my teeth. In fact, I've periodically felt twinges in my back over the last few months, which I studiously ignored. But, something about the movement of brushing my teeth set it off, and I woke the next morning unable to put on my own socks. Nothing like shuffling to the shower in a full fledged imitation of Quasimodo and having to get your hubby to put on your socks to remind you of the aging process marching forward.

The second is that it is university recruitment week at work. The elevators and halls are filled with young pups fresh out of grad school. They look young, they sound young, heck, they even smell young. They're keen, they're eager and they look like me 20 some odd years ago (although I doubt I was ever that free of cynicism). Reminders of where you once were will definitely spotlight the ravages of time and experience (and make you pine for that nubile innocence (aka naivety) of old).

The last thing is that I picked up a book by Ewan McGregor. Yup, I'm referring to the Scottish actor. The one whose career was kick started by playing a strung out junkie in Trainspotting. Seems old Ewan and a buddy took off to circle the world on motor cycles and managed to write a book about it. I was a young pup myself when Trainspotting came out and watching ol' Ewan in the Star Wars prequels somehow convinced me he was from that older generation. So, it was a shock to learn this week that the guy is actually younger than me. Ok, it's only a year, but he's younger! Someone has to explain to me how Obi Wan can possibly be younger than me!

All this has led to me feeling ... well... older...

Now, why is this an issue, and what is the point of this statement of the obvious? Well, we're about to become the proud parents of a very active toddling boy. We're not starting with a newborn whose primary role for the first few months is to eat, sleep and poop. Our little guy is walking (well running), climbing, jumping and by the sounds of it, raring to go.

And I'm getting older. The bones creek, the joints ache and ibuprofen has become my new best friend. So, the obvious question is: can I keep up? Do I have the energy needed to not only keep up with him, but to help him through the transition, help him deal with the grief, help him adjust to having to leave everything and everyone he's ever known and loved. Can my failing body (and mind some days) be strong enough to let him climb and catch him when he falls, all the while balancing his sister who herself is dancing head long into life?

I guess time will tell...

In the meantime, I have to try to keep up. Not only with a kinder and a toddler, but I have to keep up with them as they get older. I have to take on school agers whose memory and accuity is leagues ahead of mine. I have to survive the teenage years at a point in my life when my own teenage years will be considered prehistoric (aka Madonna in the Sean Penn years). Facing the barrel of that particular canon is daunting in the extreme.

So, what's the answer? There is none. I can't go back in time, and frankly, I don't think I want to. So, I think I'll just focus on the now and let the later work itself out. All that said, if anyone out there has figured out a way to make bifocals look cool and compression stockings sexy, do let me know, cause I'm gonna need it.

The parting shot tonight aims for distinctly not 40! Good night from Ottawa.

Miya can't wait for her cousin to arrive!

Miya wants to visit as often as she can as she doesn't have a brother of her own.

Mika and Kai can't wait to meet Ren

I love the shot of Kiyomi holding Ren's picture. Soon she will be hugging him for real. we're so excited!

"You done yet?"

Eons and eons ago, when I was but a wee lass working my way through the halls of academia, I embarcked on what, in hindsight now, was a foolhardy endeavour.

Yes, it was primarily because after finishing a Masters degree, my employment prospects were only a wiff better than they had been when I proudly strode out of my high school, cap and gown held high. And yes, I still hadn't really figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up, so staying in school seemed like the ideal way to continue to find myself. And yes, the very prospect of growing up seemed far too foreign a path to take, so the idea of being an on-going student seemed the perfect compliment to my procrastiting nature.

So, I did it - I signed up for a doctorate. I mean, what better way to keep the world at bay then to spend the next 5 years of my life emersed in some obscure topic that only a handfull of people on the globe had even a modicum of interest in? What was a few more years of keeping the big, bad world out there by holding up my student card as a protective shield (the one I should point out that has no expiry date on it, so technically, I could still use it to get discounts), instead of venturing into it myself? As long as I was still a student, I was still a kid, and there wasn't any reason to 'make something of myself.'

As often happens on these foolhardy endeavours, however, ultimately the real world seeped into my little life mainly because 1) I was tired of keeping the world at bay (real meaning - I was tired of living like a student and eating mac and cheese for dinner every other night) and 2) career prospects staying in academia were frankly not all that interesting (real meaning - the idea of spending the next 10 years chassing the tenure-track brass ring seemed like the emotional equivalent to banging my head against, if not a brick, at least a lego wall). So, I took a real, gown-up paying job, and before I knew it, 5 years became 6, then 7, then 8, and the most constant refrain in my life from family and friends was "Soooo, you done yet?"

What the hooten heck does this have to do with adoption you ask? Well, I bring it up, as there seems to be a recurring theme in my life, rather well summed up with the simple words - "you done yet?" Only now, the refrain is "any word yet?" This comes from the same well meaning family and friends, all of whom are eager and excited for you, and curious to know what's going on. There is love and support and interest and a whole whack of good things in that question. Nonetheless, everytime I hear it, it's like a smack to the back of the head.

All that to say, still no news on when we'll be travelling. We had expected to be in the 'hear any day' territory by now, but it would seem the timelines we'd been given were perhaps not as accurate as all that. We had been told that it would be up to 6 months between referral and travel, but it would seem that some families have had to wait up to 8 months. Before you ask - nope, don't know why and nope, can't do anything to change it.

However, we have been lucky enough to get some updated pictures and information. Seems our little man has gone from active baby to active toddler in the months we've been waiting. It's bittersweet to see these pictures - to learn how much you've missed, but at the same time to see a happy, healthy, smiling face.

We've also been provided with a little more information. He likes his tricycle and apparently, loves music and dancing. We'll have to see whether he takes to skiing with equal enthusiasm.

Thankfully, there are always distractions, and Christmas holidays is always a big one. This year, we headed for the wilds of Thunder Bay where we feasted on the holiday favourites of turkey and perogies. Mmmm ... perogies....

Kiyomi got spoiled rotten by Santa, Nana and a few of the elves as well given the sheer number of presents, and is now the proud owner of a puppet theater, a pirate ship and more princess paraphenalia than in humanely safe.
We had a wonderful opportunity to catch up with family and friends over the holidays. I even managed not to turn into a snarling beast with the numerous (though well intentioned) inquiries about our China plans.

There has been Christmas concerts, cookie making (and eating), tree decorating, a visit with Santa, tracking Santa on the internet and of course a never ending stream of presents. A heart warming (and rather mixed era sight juxtaposed) site was watching Nana, Zufu and Kiyomi snuggled up on the couch alternating between watching the Santa tracker on-line and reading The Night Before Christmas. The highlight of Kiyomi's time in Thunder Bay though was walking the dogs. She loved taking the three of them into the bush behind my aunt and uncle's house and was more excited about the prospect of giving them a treat then pretty much anything else.

We rung (and wrung) in the new year with a visit from Kohji's family and marvelled at the growing numbers. With four lit' uns racing around, the holidays definitely had a different flavour. Ok, maybe the youngest wasn't exactly running yet, but I saw the look in her eyes and she'll be in the thick of the cousin pack any day now.

As for day to day stuff - all is well. Kiyomi is liking JK and all the fixins'. We had our first parent/teacher interview in early December and she's truddling along happily with her peers as far as we can tell. She fits in like a dirty old shirt, even though she's one of only 3 girls in the class. The daycare staff continue to be frighteningly happy and enthusiastic each morning. I don't know how they keep it up, but everyday they treat the kids with warmth and affection. Kiyomi is growing and learning, although we do wished she'd gain those last 3 pounds so we could move her into a booster seat, rather than the dreaded 5 point harness.

Overall, I'd say she's 4 going on 40 with better memory and eyesight and all the charm and attitude that contains. We've learning a few things - if she tells you that you had promised her something, don't argue, she's right. My almost 40 year old brain may have forgotten, but not hers. You can bet that if she tells you she sees a bird, a plane, a red car, a whatever, don't tell her that she's mistaken, because she's right. My favourite thing of late though is hearing her tell me about her dreams or listening to her tell a story - both are always vivid and funny and likely show me that she catches on to way more than I give her credit for.

The parting shot for tonight is Kiyomi's Christmas gift from all the gals at the daycare. Far too sweet for their own good I tell ya. Good night from Ottawa.