The gods bless pizza hut

I probably haven't been to Pizza Hut in over a decade, but tonight I
went, and what's more, I enjoyed it.

While I would normally shun the very notion of visiting an American
chain restaurant while overseas, there is something about this process
that makes you crave the familiar on a unprecedented scale. I suppose
it's because everything else is turned upside down and is a
challenge. The simplest of acts - like going to the grocery store -
becomes an exerise in communication skills and taxes every neuron to
figure out just what the heck is in the package of noodles and could
that really be pigs-feet flavouring. Having a touchstone like a deep
dish pizza just provides some relief. It's also not just that we have
to figure out dinner when the store fronts and menus are
indecipherable to you, it's that wenow have to do so with two children
in tow, one of whom we are still getting to know. And so, in this
strange world, Pizza Hut becomes a temporary mecca.

The restaurant was actually located in what can only be described as
another world. The area seems nothing like the rest of Nanning. It's
like someone dropped an American outdoor mall in the middle of the
city. Getting there, however, requires going through narrow streets
with all sorts of street food, crammed with people and moppets, small
shops selling everything from trinkets to shoes.

I've grown more used to the stares. I suppose like everything else,
you can start to tune them out a little. I find I can deflect them as
well with a little nod and smile - people with give you a startled nod
and then look away. I know we're an oddity, and frankly, I don't
think I'd do anything different in their position. If I wasn't such a
textbook introvert, it might even be fun!

All in all, Ren did have a better day. We're getting to know his
schedule and habits, and so hopefully have figured out a way to lessen
some of the sharper grief pangs. The morning started out with a trip
to a museum which showcased local ethnic communities and peoples. The
buidling itself is enormous and sits in the middle of a temporary
nowhere. We turned into the 'neighbourhood' where the museum was
located, and it was like driving into a sci-fi movie as the traffic
mysteriously vanished. Turns out the museum is located in the middle
the development waste-land that we had spied from the tower the day
before. It's a beautiful showcase, but there is no one around to see
it at the moment.

Unfortunately, it was hard to follow some of the information that Glen
provided as I was chasing the kids (or at least preventing one or the
other of them from climbing into the dioramas). In truth, though,
what made it really hard to listen to anything was that I was
endlessly saying hello to the few hundred school kids who were
wandering about the place and who would rush over to say hello to me.
The place was literally crawling with school kids, practically
vibrating. It acutally added to the sci-fi feel - think Lord of the
Flies Goes to the Museum.

Ren had a better day - having slept a pretty solid 11 hours last
night. I woke before him and snuck into the shower only to hear this
little whimper when I stepped out of the shower. I opened the door to
see him standing there shoes in hand. Once we put the shoes on and
gave him some sweet milk and a little time to wake up, he seemed ok
and was actually happy to ride the bus. He loves buses, actually, and
the prospect of getting in one makes him pretty happy. He's warming
up to Kohji too, and there was even a point this evening where I
thought he might sit on Kohji's lap. If nothing else, his first
English word is daddy. He likes to yell it and hit Kohji on the
nose. I'm hoping that by Saturday he'll be willing to sit with daddy
for at least a little bit, otherwise it's going to be a long flight to
Beijing.

Kiyomi's day was a little tougher. The constant inability to get near
mom is starting to wear a little on her. She's doing her best, but
over dinner when Ren started to warm up to Kohji while still
monopolizing mommy, Kiyomi's patience started to wear a little thin.
In her own words: "I just picked him up and I started to know Ren but
I really want to tell you something special - I helped him. Something
is wrong he just cries. One day I was crazy. I was sad - I was pushing
him actually, me and Ren were having a fight with mom because Ren
really likes sitting on mom. We feed fish I know that it was really
fun it was on the weekend I think." She's doing amazing, but at 4,
there are limits to reasonable expectations.

Me? I'm hanging in there, but the fatigue at the end of the day is
pretty overwhelming. Ren is pretty much in my arms or on my lad most
of the day, and it's taking some getting used to to have an extra
appendage afixed to me at all times. He's on me so often (and not an
unhefty weight either) that it's easy to forget how little he actually
is. It's only when he walks beside me holding my hand that I remember
he's just a little guy lost in the world and searching for his
touchstones.

Good night from Nanning.

Two steps forward...

... and one rather large step back. Today was a tough day. No point
sugar coating it.

As inevitably must happen, Ren succumbed to a wave of grief this
afternoon and it was hard. He's sleeping now, but mainly out of pure
emotional exhaustion and overload. As he was falling asleep, he let
out little simpering noises that were so much like what I heard 4
years ago from Kiyomi that it shattered my heart. I knew it had to
come, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Unlike our experience with Kiyomi in 2006, Ren definitely insists on
being with me only. He is amused by Kohji, but still won't really let
him hold him and he turns to me for confort. He wants to be held most
of the time and when he's really upset, it's all me, all the time.
This afternoon, he was insistent that he wanted to go outside. We
spent nearly two hours walking (well me carrying him), but as soon as
we walked back into the hotel room, he kept bringing me my shoes and
pointing to the door. He wanted to go out, and was distraught beyond
words when I told him we couldn't. He spent the next couple of hours
alternating between dragging me to the door and sitting on my lap in
tears. Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, he pulled me to the bed,
insisted I lay down with him, and eventually fell asleep. Yes, I'm
already tallying the therapy bills because of all the mistakes I've
made in the last 12 hours...

It's been tough on Kohji too, as he's become the chief kleenex
getting, grocery running, Kiyomi minder. He does, however, manage to
get way more smiles out of Ren then I do. But, without a doubt,
Kiyomi is the queen of smile-getting. She is rolling with every punch
thrown at her throughout this, and frankly, coming through with the
best attitude out of all of us. I asked her tonight how she was
feeling about all of Ren's tears and the fact that I can't really
spend time with her, and she said "Well, it's kinda loud, but that's
ok, cause he's sad just like I was. But he'll like you soon mommy!"
I nearly cried.

There were some good moments today. We went to the Green Mountain
Park this morning, which sits on top of Nanning. It's a pretty area
with these enormous chunks of limestone placed throughout. There were
school groups and older people exercising, and it reminded me in feel
of Assiniboine Park in Winnipeg a little (although not in appearance),
especially given the lake, the pagodas and the obstacle course for
teenagers. There's a tower at the top of the park that allows for a
360 degree view of the city - or what is about to become the city.
Nanning is growing fast. There are cranes everywhere and looking from
the tower, you can see mudland surrounding a new soccer stadium.
According to our guide, the whole area is in development and will be
built up soon. A prefect example of the speed of change here are the
electric bikes - they're everywhere - which have completely overtaken
regular bicycles. Apparently, the electric versions are a farilly new
phenonemom and the traffic chaos we've been experiencing is in part
the result of the fact that so many have been introduced on the roads
so quickly that many of their riders are not yet comfortable or
familiar with thier actual speed. All of which means that crossing a
street, even with the light is kind of like playing frogger.

The highlight for the kids though was feeding the fish. I'm sure
there are tens of thousands of them in the Green Mountain pond and
when you toss food in the water, they become a boiling mass of fins,
gills and mouths. It's hard to describe, but the water pulse with
them and they surge up when a nugget of food lands in the water. Not
sure if koi really make the basis for a good horror flick, but the
image certainly has it's intensity factor. It's clear that Ren has
done this before. Not only did he not need to be shown how to throw
the food, as soon as the bag of fish food was empty he ran for the
vendor and snatched another bag.

It amazes me that he does seem to be able to communicate and I'm sure
there is alot I'm missing because I'm too dense to pick it up. He
also catches on to things frighteningly quickly. If getting my shoes
weren't evidence enough of his earnest ability to communicate, he
stopped as we were coming out of the elevator this afternoon, pointed
at the keycard in my hand, and ran down the hall, stopped at our door
and tried to shove it in the slot. The only reason it didn't work for
him on the first try was because he had it upside down. Now, he's
probably seen this 3 or 4 times over the last 48 hours, but he's
already figured it out. I'm sure there is a lot more going on in that
busy little brain of his, and it saddens me that I can't know more.

Tomorrow, we head to see some limestone caves about 45 minutes out of
town. Here's hoping Ren has a better day.

Good night from Nanning.

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.