Well, that was easy!

3 airplanes, 2 trains, a rental car and 33 hours later, we've arrived in Christchurch. We're more than a little exhausted, but shockingly, there were no major meltdowns... and the kids weren't too bad either.

Our first impression of NZ really was the walk from the international to the domestic terminal in Auckland. Interesting that you could actually physically stroll the 1 km between airports, including skirting cargo and hangars. This was my first impression that Kiwis just may be slightly less control freaks than we North Americans. I postulate that it has alot to do with the fact NZ is pretty much far away from everything, and so they're aware that it's not the best place from which to plot world domination anyway, so draconian security provisions are probably overkill.

One of the first things I notice whenever I travel to a new place is the smell. Our short trek in Auckland had a faintly familiar sweet smell. I couldn't place it until Kiyomi independently stated, "it smells like brown sugar." And damned if she wasn't right. Not sure if that's normal or just the early Sunday morning (it was about 6:30 local time).

Christchurch has been a learning experience for us. We arrived around 9:30 am local time. It was pretty disorienting trying to navigate unfamiliar streets while driving on the left side of the road. Thankfully, there isn't must traffic early Sunday morning. At first, I didn't give much thought to the earthquake that happened here last February. My first impression was lush, tree lined streets, with many of the trees budding in spring. However, it didn't take long for us to notice crumbled buildings, cracked streets. Suddenly, the empty streets had a deeper tone than simply the laziness of a Sunday morning.

We spent the afternoon in Hagley Park - a large greenspace akin to New York's Central Park - taking in 27 degree weather. The kids had a blast at the playground and exploring he botanical gardens. There was a feeling of early summer release about the place with people taking in the first warmth of the season. I imagine that it's been a particularly long, difficult winter for people here and the warmth of spring carries a special sense of relief and renewal. Children were playing, the wading pool was open, parents lounging around enjoying the soft flutters of summer sun.

Today, we really understood the devastation of the earthquake. It's cool and rainy, and so we spent some time trying to find a make-shift container shopping area that has been built up near the city center. Most of what was the downtown remains cordoned off months after the earthquake and you don't have to get that close to the barricades to see the true ferocity of the disaster. Entire buildings turned to rubble, parts of buildings sheared away, floors left dangling in mid air, cracks snaking across the facade of buildings like shattered glass.

Beyond the damage though, what really struck me was that there was no activity - no people buzzing about, no cars shooting by, no customers emerging from shop fronts. The area is simply devoid of life and movement. I saw a few construction workers and the occassional construction vehicle, but they seemed as out of place as they would on the bleak landscape of the moon.

The damage is not limited to the downtown area of course. Every street you go down has damaged buildings. Some, like the brick buildings, are barely recognizable as former structures. Others, are in various stages of reconstruction.

In many cases, a city's downtown is usually it's anchor. It helps define the city, guide it's development. It is the core, the roots of the municipality. How does a city regrow it's roots? Perhaps it doesn't. Perhaps a devastated city rebuilds the way the banion tree lays down roots from the outlying branches. Anchoring itself at the weak points. We visited a couple malls today - looking for the necessary supplies for our campervan escapade - and they had obviously been recently renovated giving the impression of restoration, though some of the stores were not even open yet.

I can't even imagine how it's possible to rebuild the city center. By all accounts, very few, if any, buildings can be made inhabitable again. And yet, things move forward. While we didn't find it, merchants have set up the container mall, residents are contemplating what can be done, new buildings are anchoring the city and setting the future course.

Or perhaps the bricks and mortar of a city are merely the skeletal structure and it's the people who truly set the tone. We have certainly found some friendly folks and teh greetings feel warm and genuine. Maybe that is the better indicator of what the future holds for this city.

First taste of NZ kiwi


Hanging in Hagley



Some of the devastation


The final flight

Arriving in Auckland

And they're off

At least as far as Vancouver...

It's actually a little hard to believe that we've embarked on this insanity. After years of talking about it, who really thought we were actually going to do it. But here we are... 16 hours after we left the house, we're in Vancouver. Yah well, at least we've started.

Five years ago this month

"You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by; but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by."

So warns J.M. Barrie through his most famous and timeless character, Peter Pan. Although in truth, I'm not sure it's Peter himself who utters this little truism. However, the realm of Peter and his friends seems all the more meaningful as I watch my little girl create her own Neverland and translate her world for me everyday.

Five years of moments have slipped by since Kiyomi came into our lives, and while I have been present in every one of them, it often feels like the moments slip past - elusive little whispers of time. No matter how hard I tried to pay attention, it seems I've turned around and my baby girl is now... well ... a girl... with her own thoughts, personality and dreams.

All I can do, on her sixth birthday and the fifth anniversary of our adoption is watch in awe and wonder as she takes her place in the world, with poise, grace and humour.

Thank you baby girl for five years of wonderful moments. In keeping with tradition, I offer a small little retrospective of the last year to capture just a few of the moments that shape our lives together.

One year

While it passed with little fanfare, April 25th marked our first anniversary as a family of four. In keeping with a little family tradition, I will avoid the paltry attempts to put into words all that my children are and mean to me. All I can say is that one scared, loving and beautiful little boy opened his heart to us and allowed us to be his parents. There are no words. Instead, I offer a little reminder of all he's been through in the last year, and how far we've come as a family.

Oh, it's out there

Every now and again, something happens that makes me realize I live in a bit of a bubble, and boy is it an eye opener when it pops.

A couple weeks ago, we had a maintenance guy come to the house. As he was leaving, he was explaining to me that the space between our air condition and furnace was pretty narrow, making any repairs difficult in future should a problem arise. Unless, of course that is, "we wanted to get a little Chinaman in there."

I will confess, I was blindsided by this comment and just stared in response. In truth, I wasn't sure I had heard what I thought I had heard until our exchange was over and he was on his way. I will say upfront, that I have way of knowing whether the guy meant anything cruel or

bigoted in his comment. That said, at best, it was poor choice of words, at worst, it was an ignorant, derogatory comment based on prejudice.

There was no harm done in the moment. My kids weren't around to hear it, and nothing I could have said to the guy would have made him rethink his poor choice of language. Perhaps I should have called the guy on his ignora

nce, told him that his comment was rude and offensive. In hindsight, I do wish I'd had the presence of mind and wit to throw a zinger back at him.

It was, however, a telling reminder that ignorance and prejudice are out there and while my kids won't likely experience much of it in our little bubble, it's a big, twisted world out there and when they leave the shelter of our family and friends, they are likely to come face to face with it. Ultimately, I can't protect them from it, nor can I eradicate it from the planet. All I can do it prepare them for it and be there to support them when they face it.

That said, I hope that at least next time, I won't be blindsided. This little experience has reminded me, rather unpleasantly, that it's out there and if I'm going to help my kids face it, then I need to be able to respond to it myself.

Line in the sand

You know those moments where you draw that ethereal, and usually arbitrary, line in the sand?

You know the ones - where you've made a parental call, and instantly know that you're in for a battle. When you're faced with the choice of either holding that particular line or ca

ving to the building tantrum pressure. I hate those moments...

It could be anything. A treat after dinner, another book at bedtime, a request for a toy from the store. You never know what you're going to get when you take the position and often times, with the benefit of that irritating little know-it-all called hindsight, you probably would not have taken quite that strong or quick position in the first place.

But, you're harried, you respond to the request before really considering it or you've only taken into account a factor or two. No ice cream on the way home from school because it'll spoil dinner, no more tv time because you're already watched some tv today. Calls that often tend to be arbitrary even if there is some rationale to them.

But you've taken the position, and - just as a pack of coyote will sense weakness in its prey - the kids will know when they've caught you being inconsistent and will pounce on it if you show any inclination of caving. More to the point, with the memory of elephants, they will remember that time you were swayed by whining, screaming, kicking, stomping, and will repeatedly

try the same scam again in the hopes of success.

And so, you watch as your normally cute and cuddly little being screams like a banshee, writhes on the floor like a skewed worm or just generally becomes completely unpleasant to be around.

In case this post wasn't subtle enough, Ren has started to tantrum. On the one hand, hey great, normal social behaviours from a well-attached, secure toddler. On the other, sigh...

Now, here's hoping that he and Kiyomi both take that same stubborn, persistent and rather determined attitude towards higher education.

The Ying and Yang

It's odd how the universe has a sense of humour, isn't it? Oh sure, some say it's random, some say it's spiritual, some say it's the natural order. I say, it's one big cosmic comic fest...

Last Friday, after 10 months, countless hours on the phone dealing with slightly maladjusted and utterly clueless immigration officials, faxes and emails to various representatives and a delayed/missing permanent resident card, Ren has finally been deemed worthy of Canadian citizenship by the powers that, unfortunately, be. Yup, he should now be able to properly say "aboot", belt out the theme song for Hockey Night in Canada (ya, the original and not the new dorky one) and smugly tell American visitors that we have socialized health care.

But, the universe see, wanted to throw a little ying into the yang. Can't be all fun and games after all - gotta make sure the balance is right. So, on Friday morning, we received the citizenship papers and on Friday afternoon, Ren and I celebrated with a jolly old time at the children's hospital emergency room watching paint dry. Can't ya just hear the universe giggling?

It wasn't anything too serious - a respiratory infection brought on my a cold virus. A few shots of ventalin and they sent us off with a puffer, and thankfully, instructions on how to use it. But we had to stay for a few hours to make sure that Ren's breathing had stabilized and that he wasn't going to have another asthma attack (that's what they called it, although he probably doesn't actually have asthma, just a very persistent cold and cough). And he's pretty much kicked it now. In fact, we celebrated the termination of our relationship with Citizenship and Immigration Canada with a good ol' fashion sugaring off - complete with maple taffy on snow. Next week, we may even apologize when someone bumps into us!

But that there universe just couldn't resist forcing the balance in a rather unsubtle way. Now, if it would only do the same thing - a natural rebalancing - with respect to the impact on my thighs of the multiple chocolate chip cookies I just scarfed down while writing this post.

And we're back

Sort of... We'll see how long it lasts. Hopefully, long enough to get my mother hooked onto the internet.

In a likely vain, but no less valiant, attempt to keep this blog up and running, I'm going for short posts, with some recent developments and interesting tidbits. The effort of on-going diatribes has obviously proven to be well beyond my capacity. Consider it my version of tweeting.

So, in the spirit of trying something new, here goes....

A few cute kid stories from the last couple weeks:

Overheard at Ren's first hip hop class. The kids were asked to name an animal they wanted to dance like. One kid picked unicorn, one picked dragon. Ren picked cow... moooo.

Dancing up a storm one night it full princess regalia, Kiyomi announced - "Look, I'm fashionating!"

Ren has now successfully participated in 2, count'em ... 2 ... non-parental involved classes - gymnastics and hip hop. Yup, he's getting bigger or as he would say "Ren, biggar, biggar, biggar..."

Kiyomi has started planning her birthday party. Yes, her birthday isn't until July, but it's been critical that she start planning this week for some unknown reason. The guest list changes hourly, but rest assured, you - whoever you are - are likely on it.

Ahh, less than 10 minutes to write and post...

The smallest room in the house

In order to understand how all four of us came to be spending a good part of our morning in the smallest room in the house, I first have to take you through the saga of “mum-mum”.

Mum-mum”, though a benign enough sounding word, has grown to have the same effect on me that nails across a chalk board have on most people. It is a sound that I dread, and one which occupies a good chunk of my time every day. You see, Ren is a grazer par extraordinaire and “mum-mum” is his word for food or drink. He rarely sits long enough to actually eat anything, and so is pretty much always either wanting or eating a snack.

Now sure, all your health mags will tell you that grazing is the healthiest way to eat, but I submit that is only the case when you are actually old enough to read said health mags. Otherwise, it is the equivalent to death by 1000 cuts for the person responsible for providing the mum-mums.

Typically a “mum-mum” exchange, which happens about 10 to 15 times a day, goes a little something like this:

Ren – mum-mum?

Me – No, not right now, we have to get dressed… (or ... you just had dinner… or ... we’re in the car moving at 100 kms an hour. You get the drift).

Ren – mum-mum!

Kiyomi - Mom, he wants a mum-mum

Me - Yes Kiyomi, I think you're right. But first he has to brush his teeth.

Ren - mum-mum?!

Kiyomi - Ren, do you want ...

Me - No, Kiyomi, don't say it...

Kiyomi - ... mum-mum?

Ren – mum-mum (with slightly more vigour and insistence)!!

Me – Ren, first we get dressed, then mum-mum. Ok?

Ren – huh.

Two minutes later…

Ren – mum-mum?

And so, it continues. Sometimes it ends peacefully with Ren either giving up or being successfully distracted. Other times, it ends in disaster, with a writhing, screaching little banshee who has completely forgotten why he’s upset or what it is he actually wants, so he alternates between hitting me and yelling to sit on my lap. It’s 50-50 which way it will go at any time.

How, you might ask did this result in all four of us being holed up in the bathroom trying to get ready for the day? Well, it was a “mum-mum” exchange that started to go awry, ending with Ren wanting to be glued to me, and my wanting desperately to have a shower. The two were incompatible. In the end, I grabbed a laptop and Ren’s breakfast, only to hear a little voice from the kitchen squeek “Mom, how come I have to be by myself” while these doe-like brown eyes blinked ever so slightly. And so, I balanced two breakfasts on the laptop, barged into the bathroom where Kohji was shaving, plunked the laptop and the bowls of cereal on the toilet, set a stool in front of the toilet, and let the kids watch Cars, while eating off the toilet bowl while I jumped in the shower.

This, my dear friends, is how all four of us came to be hunkered down in the smallest room in the house. It might not win me mom of the year, but darn it, I got my shower!

All that said, Ren's communications skills are improving every day. Words are coming fast and furious, and not just ones related to various vehicles. Some are still what I call "mommy-words" - words only mom and dad can really make out - but most are understandable to all and he's even using word combinations. Generally, as he's able to communicate more, there is a lot less frustration and fewer meltdowns. He's also more settled in his daily routine. In fact, he no longers asks to where his sweater and shoes to bed. I won't discount that the 30+ degree weather we've had didn't have something to do with it, but it seems that he no longer needs those for comfort and prefers to have his tractor blanket.

Kiyomi has been a social butterfly with a number of birthday parties and day-camp field trips. She is definitely making the most out of her summer and really enjoys the idea of being 5. Her latest interest is science, and she has decided she wants to be a fairy-ballerina-scientist. Not sure what university she needs to attend in order to get that particular combination, but perhaps Queen's will start offering fairy-studies in the near future.

Between bouts of "mum-mum", there has been a lot of summer activity. In addition to parks and pools, we've managed to take a couple of weekend trips. One to Toronto where the kids got to sail and generally just hang out with the cousins and grandparents. And another to Thunder Bay to celebrate my granmother's 90th birthday. Yup, 90 years young and 4 generations all in one place. It was a great trip and the highlight for me was watching my kids tear around my aunt and uncles' place just like I used to when I was a kid while the adults gabbed inside well into the fading light of day. Only difference is now, I'm on the inside.

The parting shot for tonight leaves you with a lovely wet-slobbery looking kiss. Good night, from Ottawa.

Time

Time, I believe, moves in heartbeats and moments. For the most part, it’s an innocuous marker – quietly but relentlessly moving forward. But, in point of fact, we rarely truly mark time by pages on a calendar. Rather, we mark it according to the events in our lives that set us on a new course - a birth, a graduation, a marriage, a death. We know where we are in time relative to how much time has passed since the last or the biggest event.

For Kohji and I, our lives are always and forever defined in relation to the day we became a family. That day, four years ago this month, where a helpless, frightened, determined, beautiful and brave infant was gently placed in our arms. Where a nanny whose name we would never know held out this skinny baby girl, in a pink jumper, and pointed to a card around the baby’s neck with her referral photo so we could confirm that she was indeed our child. That moment in a room echoing full of nannies, nervous parents and crying babies. Where in the time it takes to take in a breath, 16 families became mommies and daddies to Chinese daughters. That moment, where everything that came before would be defined relative the the point in time where I held that terrified little girl close to my chest and whispered “shhh, little bit, it will be alright”. That moment, where it would stop being about me, and would always and forever be about her and us as a family.

That frightened and brave little girl faced what, to many, would seem an insurmountable challenge. Before her first birthday, she endured tremendous and indescribable loss for the second time in her life. Yet, she risked everything to love two hopeless, though devoted, strangers. She allowed these people to hold her, whisper to her, make her laugh, comfort her and take her hand into a new life, on a new continent, far removed from everything she’d ever known. For that, we are, and will always be, grateful beyond words.

On the eve of her fifth birthday, that little baby has grown into a bright, vivacious, inquisitive, kind, warm, loving, generous and incredible girl. We, as her parents, are in awe of everything that she is (that’s our job after all). We’ve watched her grow wings over the last four years, the way all children do, and fly into the world she is slowly building for herself as she grows up. Looking back, it’s clear to me that we did not swoop in to be her family, she agreed to take us as her family. In the process, she has taught us about love, acceptance, bravery, patience and above all else, laughter. I will spend the rest of my life trying to be the person that she is, and striving with every breath to earn the trust she placed in me by allowing me to be her mother.

Thank you baby girl.

That parting shot for tonight speaks to the two life altering moments in our lives.

I hate crying. Ok, it's not such a huge revelation, and it's a pretty common feeling, but I really don't like it. What I hate most about it is how it makes me feel. Sure, there's the sense of vulnerablity, the blow to the pride and the fear of loss of control. But really, what I hate most is how it makes me feel physically - the leaky nose, the red, itchy, irritated eyes, the fatigue. It short, it makes me feel icky.

But, I don't mind saying, I've been reduced to tears on more than one occassion over the last few weeks. Usually in the wee hours of the morning, when sleep has been elusive - like on the night of waking 8 times to tend to the need of one of the two kids. Yup, I've looked at frustration, exhaustion, with a hint of despair at 4 am and wondered with all honestly what the heck I got myself into. Even though I knew at the time that it was fatigue, and that in a few hours I would feel better, let me tell you, at 4 am, there is a sense of complete abondonment to the frustration.

I make this revelation, first and foremost, so you can all feel sorry for me and oh, I don't know, deliver baked goods to my house. But the other reason is really to inject some reality into the cyberspace world. I've read the blogs, the books - especially from adoptive parents - and rarely do I read about the utter frustration and helplessness that is all a part of parenting. What I read about mostly is the joy, the elation, the cutseyness. You know, the fairy tale part, tha happily ever after with a little Martha Stewart frosting. I'm not denying the fairy tale feelings exist, nor am I trying to negate the sense of wonder and enjoyment that comes from parenting, but darn it, it's hard, and I don't think there is any shame in admitting it. I think we adoptive parents are especially hard on ourselves for finding the whole parenting adventure to be bloody difficult. After all, we signed up for this. We convinced social workers and governments that we would be ideal parents, and damn it, there can't be anything less than ideal.

But, I'll be the first to admit it, there are moments that are not ideal. There are adjustment issues for all four of us, there are struggles, there is exhaustion. Thankfully, there is also wonder, enjoyment, a coming together and struggles overcome. It's all in the same package - the good, the bad, and the weepy, snotty, leaky ugly.

Now, about the kids. Ren is adjusting a little more each day and his ability to learn astounds us continually. Sleeping, blessedly, is getting better. There have even been some nights where he's slept right through the night and when he does wake-up now, it's usually short lived with minimal wailing. His comprehension seems to leap ahead every single day and his love of trucks knows no end. Most kids have a cuddly, soft toy to sleep with. Ren alternates these days between a school bus and a fire truck.

We have noticed that the first time we do anything - go to a particular restaurant or park, meet someone, undertake an activity, Ren is a little withdrawn and cautious. The second time, though, he's got full command of the environment and is already telling you want to do and where to go. There is no doubt, he likes to be in charge, but he's starting to get that mom and dad are the alphas and learning to accept it, for the most part.

Kiyomi is settling back into a comfortable routine and seems to be getting used to the new family structure - or at least has resigned herself to it. She's starting to help her brother more and more, and I can start to see the early beginnings of complicity between them. I've no doubt they'll be planning an assault on the cookie jar as soon as Ren figures out what a cookie jar is. A couple of weeks ago started, Kiyomi started soccer once a week and she loves it. She charges around the field sometimes chasing the ball, sometimes just running for the heck of it. Watching 4/5 year olds play soccer is like watching pure abandon in motion. 10 kids become a living single swarm chasing a ball that occassionally pops out from the mass. Kiyomi loves every second of it and finishes her evening happily coated in sweat and a few grass stains.

This up-coming week, we meet with a paediatric cardiologist and, hopefully, get an echo done. We also aim to celebrate Ren's 2nd birthday. I'm thinking a cake shaped like a digger- anyone have any recipes for bright yellow icing?

The parting shot for tonight kinda sums up life around here lately. Good night from Ottawa

Home one week... and a bit

Ok, I had this great, witty, brilliant post all written in word... but I couldn't seem to get blogger to paste, and then picasa wasn't working properly. So, you'll have to suffer through the runner up, which was penned a few days later.

Mercifully, jetlag seems to have retreated. After a few nights of wailing sessions, desperate attempts at new sleep tricks, late night television and days in an exhaustion fog, we have finally hit on a combination to which Ren seems amenable enough that he'll sleep through a good chunk of the night. Not ideal, but better than the hourly sessions of inconsolability and my begging him to sleep. There is a carefully contrived mixture of his shoes and sweater, bedtime routine and bottle that gets us all through the night, and woes is me if I happen to forget any one element.

I should point out that somehow, Kiyomi managed to recover from jetlag faster than any of us. Within a couple days, she was pretty much sleeping through the night and didn't seem to so much as stir when Ren wailed outside her door or when we creeked down the stairs. A heard of elephants could go through her room, and her eyes wouldn't even flutter.

It is so hard to tell which of the cries is a result of adjustment, grief, terror, fatigue, stubborness and we're still learning, as is Ren. However, their is definite improvements in communication. We are slowly learning through hand signals, gestures and grunts. And much to our surprise, words are making an appearance. Most are linked to wheeled vehicles or at least the sounds they make - he can say "ca" for car, "ting, ting" for bike, "vroom" for truck. He can show you where his nose and toes are and we now know that "mnum, mnum" means "feed me you dolts!" We're getting it, and Ren is starting to show some patience with our lack of understanding. Most of the time, he points and we keep guessing until we get it, to which we hear a rather satisfying "huh". He also knows to shake and nod his head -which he will sometimes do emphatically.

Ren is also getting more and more comfortable with Kohji. I'm the "go to gal" for comfort, food and when he's tired and/or cranky, but dad is the one when he wants to play. They've been for a few walks together in the neighbourhood and Ren no longer needs me to be in the room all the time. He won't tolerate my leaving the house though and if I'm not there when he wakes up, there is much unhappiness. The baby steps over the last week though have been momentus and I'm hopeful that we'll get there within a reasonable amount of time.

I will admit, I'm craving a little unrestrained solitude. I managed to get a quick bike ride in yesterday during nap time, and it was heavenly. At breakfast this morning, I was trying to eat cereal with a kid on each knee, snatching intermitent bites (between theirs from my bowl of course), and hoping that one of them doesn't turn their head at the wrong time and send the whole business flying.

Kiyomi is settling in well back at daycare. Her friends missed her like crazy and I could tell they were climbing over themselves to get to her for the first couple of days. Not to say she hasn't been experiencing some emotional ups and downs - adapting to life as a sibling at any point is a challenge, never mind when the said sibling is already walking , yelling, getting into your stuff and your face. Kiyomi has done her best to be patient and is proving to be a caring big sister. However, it does get to her sometimes and she can get a little tired of the new world order. We're struggling a bit with how best to respond to her needs, while at the same time, make sure there is some stability and predictability, especially with boundaries. It's hard to skirt that particular line, and brutal on the guilt quotien when you think you've screwed it up. When we do take a harder line with her, we now here - "you're being mean to me just like a step-sister". Thanks Cinderalla for that particular literary reference. I've got to stop reading to that kid.

Ren's personality is coming out more and more each day. He's charming and stubborn, creative and a good problem solver. He'll figure his way around, through, over or under he's trying to get to something and he seems to have the patience to dedicate towards figuring it out if he doesn't immediately know. Yes, we've put all those maddening childproof doorknob things on all the exterior doors, and yes, they're irritating and adult-proof too.

Ren has been a bit of a hit at the daycare, and Kiyomi loves showing him off. She's made sure that all the kids know he likes toys with wheels and the minute he walks in, he's instantly swarmed with a wide family of hands offering wheeled goodies. The hightlight of both their days - and frankly ours too - is when we pick Kiyomi up after school and she and Ren bounce along home in the little red wagon, sharing a snack and pointing out buses, cars and trucks.

We're slowly settling into life as a family of four. It takes some getting used to for all of us, but we've had some successes ... and some not so successes. Meal times are a new adventure, but we're negotiating some sort of palatable routine. We're also getting into the summer swing of things with bike rides, tulip peeping and the occassional popsicle on the front steps.

The parting shot shows the iconoclastic spring family photo for Ottawa... although you'll note unlike the family off camera beside us whose daughters were dressed in bright, brilliant spring dresses, my kids (and for the most part we're) at least dressed.

Good day, from Ottawa.

Home safe and kinda sound

The Dad here again. Some of you had been wondering, and so this is
just a brief post to let you all know that we did make it home safe
and sound on Saturday night. Since we've been home, Ren has been
having difficulty with the time change which has affected us all,
though particularly Tamara who Ren still needs when he's tired or
upset. So sorry about the lack of posts, and lack of pix for this
post - we've been rather energy-limited.

In brief, Kiyomi puked on the plane, so we gave her gravol. That gave
us an excuse to drug Ren too (the Gravol was out after all...) So
both kids slept most of the flight to Toronto and it went quite
smoothly, though we all still felt like crap at the end of it. We
then madly rushed through every stage at the Toronto airport - on the
Beijing-Toronto leg, we figured out that we had all of 50 minutes to
get through customs, and then register Ren for Permanent Residence
status with immigration (which took us well over an hour last time),
then wait for our bags, take the bags to check-in for our Ottawa leg,
meet Miyo and family briefly, and then go through security.
Miraculously, everything went very quickly (we got ushered into a
short line for people with young kids at customs, and there was nobody
in line at immigration) and we made it through security just as they
were calling our names for "last call".

We were able to briefly see Miyo, Martin, Mika and Kai along the way
at the Toronto airport, and at the Ottawa airport, we were met by
Kenji, Aya, Miya, Laura, Nat, Amy and Les. It was wonderful to see so
many familiar faces and to introduce Ren. Thanks all for coming out -
it meant a lot.

Interestingly, Ren has been very comfortable here from the moment we
stepped in the door on Saturday night. Kiyomi took Ren to the back
room and showed him some of the toys we had waiting for him, and from
that point, he's been happily playing with these toys and other toys,
wandering around the house independently, and has generally made
himself at home. Sunday was a banner day with him just happily
playing with all of us all day. And for the rest of us, it's been
wonderful just to be back home.

The nights have been a different story. He has cried uncontrollably
in Tamara's arms for long periods at a time as a result of which
Tamara has been getting limited sleep. Fortunately, Kiyomi has slept
through most of it and she continues to be a gem. We don't know what
we would do if we had to deal with any difficulties she was
experiencing. Essentially, her adapatability has meant that we don't
have to worry about her, and we can just concentrate on Ren. In fact,
with our sleep-deprived brains, we can barely handle just that.

We'll try to post some pix soon. It's 8:20p and Ren has been asleep
for almost an hour. Our strategy for tonight is to try to get to
sleep ourselves immediately, knowing it's likely that we will have
another rough night ahead of us.

Wish us luck. Good night from (ahhhh...) Ottawa.