Jul
31
I had an interesting opportunity last night: the chance to have one of my childhood fantasies fulfilled. And when all is said and done, I have to tell you — it wasn’t as great as I imagined it would be.
When I was a kid, I always dreamed of being locked in somewhere overnight. Maybe a big department store, where I could run around and try things out and dress up in different clothes. Or maybe a bakery or a candy store. Or even a high school, where I could run around and play in the gym and listen to music all through the school on the P.A. system.
And last night, it actually happened.
BDH and I are getting involved with a local sports club, and last night there was a practice at a local high school. We went along to meet the fellow who is running the club, watch him coaching, and see if we’d be a good fit. The practice went really well, and afterwards, we started chatting with this fellow, and since we had to leave the school so the custodial staff could clean up and lock up, we adjourned to the parking lot.
We had a really nice chat with this man, who shares a lot of the same ideas and philosophies about minor sport as us, and is also really easy to talk to. So we were gabbing for an hour or so, about all kinds of things.
Suddenly, the man stopped. “Wait a second,” he said. “Do you think they may have closed the gate on us?”
We were at a private school outside of town on a rural side road. And the entrance is gated.
I thought the gate, like many gates outside many expensive places, was just decorative.
Turns out, not so much.
We drove down to the front gate to find the custodial staff had long since left the grounds and locked the actual, real, working gate behind them. And despite BDH’s and our new colleague’s best efforts, it was staying locked. They tried walking around the gate (it was a real gate, fenced and everything.) They tested the lock several times to make sure it was locked. (It was.) They looked for some sort of electronic pad to unlock it, with maybe a security system phone number on it. (None to be found.)
Our colleague went to his car to see if he had any contact numbers. And, as luck would have it, he didn’t have anything — he normally brings his laptop with address book in it, but did not. And because he just moved to the area a short time ago, he didn’t have any phone numbers for anyone he could call to help us out.
So, we drove back up to the school.
We went to the front door, and looked for a doorbell to ring, in case someone was still inside. We looked for another notice up there, maybe containing an after-hours phone number. There was nothing.
And then, BDH spied a security number. So he got on his cellphone and called.
The security people were wonderful. Really nice. And completely unable to help us. Turns out, they’re a fire security place, and they take care of the fire alarm system. They didn’t have any contact information for anyone we could call. Unless, of course, we wanted to call the fire department.
So, back to the front gate we went, hoping somebody in a neighbouring home would see us locked in and call someone. And we waited.
Eventually, after still more looking around and thinking and wondering, our colleague suggested he would go back to the school and look around — maybe there was still someone inside he could find, or a number somewhere we could call. We said we’d stay at the gate and hope to be noticed.
About 10 minutes later, our colleague’s car came back down the drive. He said that in his looking around, he found that a doorjamb that he had put in the gym door was still there. The custodians had not seen it and had not locked the door. So he had opened the door, stepped in, and set off the school alarm system.
We were feeling a mix of relief and concern. The alarm going off meant somebody would surely come to investigate, so that was good news. However, who they would be, and how much trouble we would potentially be in when they arrived, concerned us a bit. I mean, not REALLY concerned, because if we were up to no good, it would have been a stupid plan to be found sitting by a locked gate in our cars. But still, I am sure police hear many a stupid plan in the course of their work. So, just in case, we agreed our colleague would do all the talking, and we would be as cooperative as humanly possible to whoever showed up.
Trouble is… nobody showed up. Not for about 15 minutes, anyway. So our colleague said he’d go back up to the school again and see if he could trip the alarm again.
He didn’t go far, and turned around and came back. The alarms were still going. And he could hear them almost all the way down to the gate! Surely SOMEBODY in a neighbouring home or something would hear the alarms going on such a still night and report something going on.
We waited. And watched car after car whiz by on the country road, unconcerned that there were two cars behind the locked gate.
Finally, a car pulled up. It was the security company. Our colleague approached and told the guard of the situation. We agreed to all drive back up to the school so the guard could check out the problem, disable the alarm, take a report, and whatever else was required.
We were in no position to argue.
Once again, we drove back up to the school, and waited. Finally, our colleague drove out and told us we were free to go. The guard had checked everything out, and reset the alarm and properly locked the gym door. He had taken down all our names, but seemed unconcerned.
I would expect this was not the first time this had happened.
And apparently, the alarm has been set off many a time in the past — recently by a spider, even. So that was why it took so long for the guards to respond, and why he was fairly unconcerned about the whole thing.
And so, more than 2 1/2 hours after our practice actually ended, we finally left the school and headed home. We were tired. And hungry. And I really had to pee.
I have to admit, it was pretty hilarious for the most part. A great adventure. And although it didn’t have all the running around eating and playing and trying things on and dancing and stuff I had imagined it would, in my dreams all those years ago, I can now say I had finally had one of my childhood dreams fulfilled!
But it’s fair to say I’m happy none of my childhood dreams involved, say, parachuting out of airplanes or anything of that nature. Because I think that was about enough adventure for me for one night, thankyouverymuch.
Jul
30
Another day, another game of telephone tag and talking ’round and ’round with our agency about our adoption timeline.
We’re frustrated. We’re tired of always hearing bad news, never good, with respect to timelines. We’re tired of being the family who is — randomly, from what we can tell — getting the fuzzy end of the lollipop while other families get things done expeditiously.
We want it all to be done.
I have to be honest. If we had been sat down, that very first day, and told that information would come to us in dribs and drabs, and that timelines we were told would be wrong, almost without exception, by 100% each time, and that we could often talk to two different people and get two completely different answers on just about everything despite them being in the same office and dealing with the same country… well, I think we might have just passed on the whole adoption thing. Because, right now, despite having a beautiful daughter waiting for us that we would absolutely not trade for anything on this earth, we are not in the best frame of mind about how things are going with her adoption.
We’re really, really frustrated. We have nowhere to go with this frustration, and no way to act on our own behalf to just Get. Something. Done. We feel like we’ve been mismanaged in a lot of respects. We feel like we are being stonewalled, rather randomly, and yet nobody knows why or has any idea how to fix it.
And we are stymied as to why some relatively simple bits of bureaucracy suddenly and randomly take so much longer to get done, and nobody seems to bat an eye.
I spoke with a friend today. “You’re a businessman,” I said. “If you told your customers that you would do some work for them in X time, and then each time you were wrong by 100%, would you still be in business? Would clients still come to you if you kept pushing your dates back and things were not getting done and all you could tell them is ‘I understand, I understand’ and ‘we can’t really tell you why’?”
He said, “It depends on the nature of the business. If I am the only person offering this service, people don’t have a choice.”
And I am not saying it’s just my agency. From what I can tell, it’s a problem in agencies everywhere. Adoption as a whole has this problem.
And I am not saying the people we deal with aren’t good people. They’re very nice, they care about the children under their care and they seem to want to help their adoptive parents. But nice isn’t enough sometimes.
What adoption in Canada needs is some good, solid project managers. People who get in, set timelines, expedite the bureaucracy, and do whatever it takes to get things done. It needs to have some people versed in good communication. It needs streamlining of procedures.
But it won’t happen. Not in our lifetime, anyway. Certainly not in time to speed up our travel date to bring our child home.
Jul
29
We are big into the AirMiles and points here, as you well know. Bigger even than the coupons. Not so big as the obsession with bargain shopping and clearance items, but still.
Okay, so it’s ME. I’ll be honest. Anytime I can get something cheapcheapcheap and get AirMiles or credit card points on it, I am as happy as Larry (however happy he is.) Because not only am I getting something cheap NOW — in the future I will get something for FREE. It’s like, double the cheapness, man!
But we have not been collecting as many AirMiles recently as we usually do because, frankly, the grocery store that offers them has gone downhill somewhat. AND it’s more expensive than the one down the street, so it’s not really worth it. But we still collect enough for the one thing we use the AirMiles for, and that is…
FREE MOVIE PASSES.
Good grief, we love movies. We have hundreds upon hundreds of DVDs, of course, since we don’t have cable. But we also both love to go out to a movie. We love movie popcorn, and sitting in the seats right above the walkway entrance to the theatre — you know the ones, they have that half-wall in front of them which works as a great shelf for snacks and drinks! — and we love the big theatre experience.
So, last night we went to the movies.
BDH has been feeling bad recently because he is playing a LOT of soccer, and isn’t home much. Now, I am okay with that — I am in favour of any physical exercise he wants to do, which helps with his diabetes — and also, I am quite okay with the alone time. I can exercise myself, or relax, or get things done… it’s all good. But he’s been feeling like I might be feeling a bit neglected, so last night, as a surprise, he took me to a movie.
His first idea was to take me to see Mamma Mia. I’d mentioned that I had heard good things, and that it might be fun to see, so he wanted to take me. But on the way there, we got to talking. And recently, as you probably know, The Dark Knight has also come out. And everybody has been positively raving about it. So we talked, and I suggested that maybe The Dark Knight was more of a”big theater experience”-type movie than Mamma Mia. I said I didn’t think Mamma Mia would lose anything if we just waited and saw it on DVD, so we decided on seeing The Dark Knight.
We got our popcorn and pop, all part of our free movie pass, got into the lineup early so we’d get Our Favourite Seats, and went in. The Dark Knight began.
And… It was dark. I should have taken the clue from the frigging title. And he was a knight, of sorts. But otherwise? It left me cold.
I have to be the only person on the planet who didn’t enjoy this movie. But I really didn’t. It was okay. That’s it.
Now, I am not a person who enjoys a lot of violence. And while there wasn’t a lot of gory violence — mostly fistfighting and the usual action stuff — it was still a bit too much for me. When it comes to action-type movies, I get uncomfortable with movies where the violence is actually something that could happen. And maybe that speaks to how good the movie actually is, that it made me uncomfortable, but if I am going to watch violence I prefer more of the “cartoon”-variety violence. You know, stuff that is a bit implausible, like your James Bonds or your Bournes.
And it was LONG. The damn thing Just. Wouldn’t. End. Just when there was a good spot for an ending, somebody would start monologuing and a whole ‘nother thing would start up. By about the 5th non-ending, I was just shaking my head. End, already! Make another movie with this stuff!
Also, it was unrelentingly dark. Really, REALLY dark. I mean, a more appropriate title would have been “Darky McDarkerson, the Dark Knight of Darktown”. I like some levity in my action movies, like with IronMan, for example. But this was dark. And not just in tone, but in lighting. So dark, I kept hoping somebody would come along (in the context of the movie) holding a flashlight so I could see what the hell was going on some of the time.
Anyway, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I had hoped. And I felt really bad, because BDH loves his comic book hero movies.
And the problem is, if I am not enjoying it, BDH spends all his time worrying about how I am not enjoying it, and so then HE doesn’t enjoy it.
So we both left the movie feeling really… blah. Kind of bummed, actually. Not just because we didn’t have a good time, but because it was so frigging depressing. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but jeez… all that DARK.
So BDH turned to me and said, “Are you tired?”
And he suggested we needed something to lift our moods, so why not a double feature? Why not see Mamma Mia?
He really wanted to have a fun night out with me. And so did I, come to that. So I agreed.
And off we went to Mamma Mia. Which turned out to be silly, and fluffy, and completely goofy. It was lighthearted and funny and hammy. It was PERFECT. Exactly what we needed. Yeah, it wasn’t necessarily something we needed to see on the big screen — it would have been just as good if we had seen it on DVD. (Moreso, actually, because we could pause and talk and rewind, which we love to do. And also? I am betting the special features will be AWESOME like a hot dog.)
But lighthearted entertainment was just the antidote to “Captain Dark Darkington of Darkland”. We had a GREAT time.
The theatre was mostly empty (not a lot of ABBA fans take in a 10 pm show, it seems), so we could still gab when we wanted to and belly laugh about stuff and not disturb anyone. And it was fluff — just pure entertainment, no bad things happening to anyone. Deep, provocative, Oscar-winning stuff? No. But fun. And full of sunshine and light and blue skies. Literally AND figuratively.
It was nice.
(And a side note: After the lights went down, we noticed a few pairs and small groups of men coming in. Now, men, whether you are gay or whether you are just an ABBA fan or both — admittedly, that’s a bit redundant, but whatever — embrace it! You don’t have to wait until the lights are down and sneak in! Embrace your inner ABBA fan! These are your PEOPLE!)
So, we got home late, and we’re both dog tired today. But the night finished on a high note, and we had fun.
Now, we normally do double features on long weekends when everybody is out of town and the theatres are relatively quiet. And a long weekend is coming up…
Jul
28
Sometimes, people make me so angry.
Did you ever want to just make a scene because somebody was just being so stupid, you could barely stop yourself from going off on them? I had this experience this morning at the vet.
I had stopped in to pick up food for the gang, and it was busy. In line ahead of me was a woman who was picking up her cat from boarding. Now, we go to a fantastic vet that specializes in cat care. It is what they DO. So when you board a cat there, they monitor your cat, how much he eats or drinks, his behaviors, whatever.
The office manager working the desk was ringing this woman in, and told her that during her cat’s stay there, the cat was drinking a lot and peeing a lot — a sign of diabetes in a cat that is, from what I could tell, quite old. So the office manager said that the vet had recommended that the cat be tested for diabetes. She went over the cost with the woman, and when the woman hesitated, the office manager went back into the vet’s office. She came back and said the cat really needed the test, so they would work out a deal. Still she hesitated; but the vet’s office was very busy, so the office manager suggested she take a few moments to think about it while some other customers were served.
In the meantime, the woman went outside. It seems her husband was outside, and the woman wanted to talk it over with him, because she came in with an obnoxiously loud man of late middle age who was tied to his cell phone as if he were someone very important.
One of the techs came out to explain the problem to them. She told them very clearly that this cat in all likelihood had diabetes. She explained the test, and explained what diabetes is, and what the testing and treatment would entail. But the man refused to believe her, saying the cat is fine and happy and he’s just old and old people sleep and drink and pee a lot. I admire the tech for firmly sticking to her guns and saying No, that’s not the case, repeatedly. But he kept on, and said they were going to take the cat and leave. The tech gave in and went to get the cat.
Now, this man just would NOT shut up. He started going on about how the vet has been billing over a million dollars a year since they opened, how they were going to have to find another place to board the cat because they were just coming up with ways to take their money, blah blah blah.
I shot him a look, one I hope reflected all the hate and disgust I felt for him. I don’t know, but at least it shut him up.
These are not people who are short of money. They could afford the testing and the treatment, if they are able to afford to board their 20-year-old cat frequently. This couple is a mousy woman who seems unable to stand up to her husband, and a husband who is an asshole of epic proportions.
And the cat is going to suffer, and likely die, of something that could have been readily treated, rather than live out his old age in comfort.
I paid for my things, making sure the couple sitting there knew that I was spending a fair bit on my cats, willingly. We are on a very tight budget, but we do what we can for our cats. When you undertake pet ownership, you take responsibility for a life that depends utterly upon you. It is your responsibility to do what you can for them, within reason obviously. If this couple had been short of money, I would not have thought twice. But they are not.
The loud man left to answer yet another cellphone call. I took my armoad of bags and cans and prepared to leave.
The woman jumped up to help me by holding the door for me, as her husband had walked out and let it slam in my face. I felt bad for the woman, because clearly she was struggling with this decision. But I could not look at her. She did not fight to do what is right for their pet. I was so angry and upset for their cat.
I understand that many people don’t take pet ownership as seriously as we do. And I understand that it’s a fact of life that, while many people try to do what’s best for their pets and care for them as well as they can, there are still many more who don’t. I understand, but I don’t have to like it.
It was all I could do NOT to get into it with this obnoxious, hateful man outside the clinic, away from the poor staff that probably have to deal with shit like this on a regular basis. Clearly he thinks of himself as a big businessman, a big wheel. He’s one of those old men who thinks talking loudly on his cellphone is a sign to all that he’s IMPORTANT and RESPECTED and a BIG MAN. But he’s nothing but a stupid, smallminded, cheap asshole.
I’d have taken on the care of that poor cat in a second, if circumstances were different and we could afford it, and it meant he no longer had to live with this guy. This man could afford it, and was just too stupid and cheap to do so.
All I can do is hope the cat does not suffer too much in what is left of his life. And that the wife grows a backbone before it is too late to help that poor kitty.
Jul
25
Okay, people — today is all about the choices! This or that? In or out? Should I stay or should I go? And for the most part, they’re all fairly fun choices, because hey — it’s a beautiful day outside and it’s Friday. Nobody wants to work too hard!
But at least there is SOME order. I had a plan. I am not just lazing the day away — oh no. No matter how much I want to…
So tell me:
- Andrews Sisters, ABBA, or Alabama?
- Bongos or big bass drum?
- Crossword puzzle, card game or computer game?
- Denmark or Dominican Republic?
- Elevator or escalator?
- Farmer’s market, fancy restaurant, or fast food?
- Ginger ale, green tea or Guinness?
- Hot air balloon or hang glider?
- India, Indonesia or Israel?
- January or July?
- Kangaroo, kodiak bear or kitty?
- Lavender, lilac, or lily?
Let’s see what people pick today!
Jul
24
Inspired by the ever-awesome Shannon (with the coolest-named blogs in the world!), who is no end of talented and crafty, we’ve decided to start a 100 Good Wishes Quilt for our daughter. And because Shannon introduced the idea to me, I am going to borrow her words to describe it:
There is a Chinese tradition when a child is born called “Bai Jia Bei”, otherwise known as a “100 Good Wishes Quilt”.
It is custom to invite 100 family and friends to donate a piece of fabric to the child’s mother. The 100 pieces are then sewn together into a quilt that is said to contain the luck, energy, and good wishes from all the family and friends who contributed a piece of fabric. The quilt is then passed down from generation to generation.
Now, I live in Mennonite country, so quilts are a big thing around here. I’ve always wanted one, and so I thought this would be a fantastic keepsake for our daughter to have — not only is it a lovely gift for her, but it will be something that carries with it all the hopes, dreams and good wishes of those around her who love and care for her.
I love the idea that my daughter can wrap herself in a blanket of love and good wishes.
We would love any and all of you to participate, if you want to, as well as anyone who may not be reading along on our adventures but might still want to send along their good wishes and hopes to our daughter. Individuals, families, “virtual” friends, whatever! You’ve all been a part of this journey with us, and it would be lovely for her to able to have a keepsake from all of you, who have been so wonderful in your support and good wishes from the beginning.
So if you are interested, here’s how it works (again, thanks to Shannon):
- Leave us a comment that you are interested — or email us, if you prefer — so that I can email you our daughter’s name so you can personalize the wish, and our mailing address.
- Choose a piece of 100% cotton fabric that you like or has special meaning to you.
- Pre-wash it to prevent shrinkage and cut an 8×8 inch square from the fabric to be used for the quilt.
- On a piece of card stock or paper (acid-free is best for preservation purposes), attach a small piece of the same fabric on the note (so we will remember which fabric goes with which wish). On this paper is where you write your wish, your name and where you are from. Your wish can be anything – your hopes for her, a poem, quote, verse, favorite saying, advice or anything meaningful to you.
We’ll take a picture of each square and wish and place the photo, along with your wish, in a life book for our daughter. The squares will be made into a quilt, and both the quilt and the book will be keepsakes that tell the story of her journey to us and all the people who were with us and brought us such support, comfort and friendship.
I will also post your wish and the photo on our 100 Good Wishes Quilt page, so you can follow along as we create this keepsake.
Thanks so much in advance to everyone who wants to participate!
Jul
23
So, it’s fair to say our lives have been a bit of up and down for the past couple of days. You have to admit, it’s never boring.
Yesterday continued that trend. We had two errands to run: first, to the travel clinic to get all our necessary injections for our trip to pick up our daughter, and second, to the agency to talk about the stupid bureaucratic logjam we’re currently in… but at the same time, on a happier note, to drop off the first present we can give to our baby girl.
So we were up and out really early yesterday, because our city’s travel clinic doesn’t have the facility to deal with some of the more “unusual” travel opportunities and the injections and drugs required. So we had to drive into the next city, which is bigger and their clinic better equipped.
We were feeling pretty upbeat, mostly because we were so frigging tired from the emotional day before. So we happily went into our appointment at the Public Health office and listened attentively to all the information they had to offer about prevention of infection while we are in Ethiopia. (But we also absorbed next to none of it, so it’s a good thing they sent us off with a folder of information.) And because of our somewhat tired and giddy moods, we happily agreed to whatever injections were on offer.
And an hour and 3 needles apiece later, we left with arms full of typhoid, yellow fever, and polio injections. And a paper bag containing an apparently bland raspberry beverage to fight off cholera and other intestinal distress. Or something. I have no idea.
So Typhoid BDH and myself headed off to the agency, where we met with our 2nd consecutive fab case worker. (After a really rough start with this agency, we’ve had 2 great case workers in a row! Yay!) And that is when we handed over this:
Once a child is legally declared to be adopted, their family can send along a package of toys and whatnot for the child, that will travel with the next person in the agency to visit the transition home in Addis.
Now, you’ll remember a while back, just after our referral came through, there was a meeting of the Mystery Baby Welcoming Committee in which discussions were had as to who would be accompanying Pooh Bear Picture Frame to Ethiopia as part of the Special Advance Travelling Welcoming Sub-Committee.
Well, after much deliberation and discussion of the various merits of all members of the Committee, and having it pointed out that whoever goes must fit into a ziploc bag of limited size, the Committee came to an agreement. And so, we have the following, en route to Ethiopia in short order:
The package contains one photo of mom and dad (us) in a soft plush Winnie the Pooh picture frame (that is also a music box, playing the Winnie the Pooh song), one photo each of mom and dad for the wall beside baby’s crib, two onesies with “Canada” logos on them, and Giraffe lovey blanket which also doubles as a rattle (giraffes having been a bit of a theme for us during this whole process).
I know everyone wanted to go along, but a ziploc is not very big. Besides, our daughter’s only little. She can’t read. She can’t play with much stuff yet. So we thought these were all things that were fairly drool- and gum- friendly, for the time being. We’ll maybe send along another package later, as she’s able to grip things and such.
And, package delivered, we headed for home.
And this is when we began to notice the “flu-like symptoms” that come with these injections of nasty diseases. Not to mention, the serious discomfort in your arm that comes with the intramuscular yellow fever shot, which makes lifting your arm in any fashion fairly uncomfortable, if not downright painful, and rendering it, and you, mostly useless for the remainder of the day.
Good thing there were storms to watch from the porch last night. The pouring rain and thunder mostly drown out our whining and complaining.
Jul
23
Okay, so. You guys know I live in a very suburban neighbourhood. New development, trees, nature, blah blah blah.
So imagine my surprise this morning when I stumble outside in my pajamas to take out the garbage, and I see a bevy of RCMP.
Yep. The Mounties were on my street.
Now to some, this is no big deal. In some areas and some provinces, the Mounties are in charge of policing, everything from speeding tickets to murder scenes. But here in Ontario, we have 3 levels of policing: municipal (our city police, who handle traffic and “everyday” crime, as well as vice and homicide); provincial (the OPP, who handle traffic on major roads and highways and more in-depth, more serious crimes) and the RCMP, who we almost never see, and usually are at the top of the food chain handling major crime issues like organized crime, major investigations, and interprovincial/federal stuff. (That’s a basic breakdown — of course I am sure there are finer points to it than that. Gimme a break. It’s early.) So having the RCMP show up is a fairly big thing. Or, at least, surprising.
They were down the street, a car and an SUV, flashers going, officers in vests. Across the street from them were a couple of SUVs and the officers in gear were talking with the occupants of the cars. And at first, I did not realize they were Mounties — I just saw the cop cars, and came inside to tell BDH. He went out to look and saw they were Mounties.
So, we were getting BDH packed to go to work and standing in the foyer. We saw the RCMP vehicles drive away, and the regular SUVs came up and started parking along the street in odd places. Nobody in the regular cars got out. BDH had to go to work, so he got in his car and drove away.
A few minutes later, I get a call from BDH. He pulled around the corner (our street is kind of shaped like 3 sides of a rectangle) and saw the Mountie cars had pulled up to a house and were talking to the (we assume) female occupant of the house on her porch. The house is a new one, one of the last ones built on our street — used to be a show home, so whoever is in there has cash.
I saw the other regular cars drive back down the street, stopping so the occupants could talk to each other, and then they all drove off.
So now, we’re speculating like mad. What could be happening on our quiet, very residential street?
We MUST know. And yet, we likely never will. Damn. I mean, it’s not like you can just walk up to the RCMP car, mid-sting operation or drug bust or whatever, and tap on the window and say, “Hullo there! What’s up?” No matter how cheery you might be.
I wish The Mayor was home. He TOTALLY would have been up there on the porch with those guys.
Jul
22
First, the good news.
Introducing…
<image removed. sorry.>
Our daughter!
Yes, we got the call yesterday, saying our court dates went through fine and she is now, officially and legally, our daughter. The picture above was her referral shot when she first came into the orphanage — the first picture we had of our baby girl.
And here’s baby’s first mug shot, two weeks later at her medical:
<image removed. sorry.>
We are now officially parents to a beautiful, now-3 1/2 month old baby girl. We are thrilled.
And now, the bad news.
Hard on the heels of receiving this news, we were told that the estimated travel dates, which our case worker told us on our referral date would be about 3 1/2 months out, and put us travelling to get our daughter mid-to-late September, have been pushed back. TO NOVEMBER OR DECEMBER.
We were, to say the least, stunned and very, very upset. We cannot understand how the timelines can change that much in a six-week span, particularly since the court date went through without a hitch. We were planning on picking up our 5-6 month old, and now it looks like we have to wait another couple of months and our daughter will be 8-9 months old. For NO GOOD REASON, which I will get into later.
We were SO upset yesterday. We still are. I’m so upset, it’s hard to find words.
Think of all the developmental things we will miss in that 3 month span — the difference between a 5 month old and an 8-9 month old is astounding. Think of all the firsts we will potentially be missing: Her first tooth. Rolling over. Her first babbling. Perhaps even sitting up. Those are precious moments we will NEVER get back.
My baby girl could begin making her first sounds, trying out her first words. She could be calling another woman Mama. I was supposed to be the person she said Mama to.
And do you know WHY this is being delayed? Because for no good reason, the Canadian High Commission is taking their sweet time processing a birth certificate and a visa for a 3 month old baby. What, they think she is a hardened criminal and the security check is taking so long? Is she some international jewel thief? No, it’s because it’s summer, so they are slowing down.
To this I say bollocks. These are Canadian employees, well paid, in an embassy office. They have email and all the other technology required to get this done, and they just AREN’T. There is no good reason, and none they will give to our agency. And believe me, we went to the agency this morning and had a meeting to try to figure this out.
In the span of six weeks, they went from processing these small documents in a matter of weeks for a child already legally adopted to requiring a matter of months to get them done.
These are 3 months of our child’s life that we will never, ever get back. Months of firsts and moments of discovery and joy. And we will be forever without them.
I know what you are thinking. You are thinking “But once you have her/years from now, that won’t matter.”
Well, maybe that’s so, but I doubt it. I can bet many, many parents remember their baby rolling over for the first time. They remember when she got her first teeth. They can tell you without hesitation his first word. Those little things are the everyday joys parents treasure with their children, and we will forever be denied them. These are little stories we were dreaming of telling our child about, and our grandchildren. These are moments that up until yesterday, we were told we would be able to share in, and now they have been stolen from us, and all because of bureaucratic bullshit.
So what should have been an incredible, joyful day was one filled with tears and frustration and pain. They’ve stolen that day from us too.
Of course we are happy. Of COURSE we are. But we are parents, and we cannot hold our child. Ask any adoptive parent — this waiting part is hard. And we were so close — we were 6-8 weeks from being a family. But now, for no reason whatsoever, they have doubled our wait time — or if we look at the worst case, it will be tripled at 22 weeks. They have multiplied that yearning, and that hurts.
So we are still a little stunned.
Today we met a couple who are going to get their baby next month. She was born 6 weeks before our daughter. They will get to bring her home when she is 6 months old. We will not. We also met a man who is travelling to Nairobi, Kenya, where our High Commission is located. He got his travel visa on Monday. He submitted his documents by courier on the Thursday before. And yet, a birth certificate and visa for a 3 month old baby takes in the region of 5 months to process.
I spent the last few weeks carefully washing and putting away all the lovely size 0-6 month clothes we have for her. I will spend the next few days taking them back out of her drawers and closet and boxing them back up. It does not look like she will get to use them.
BDH will spend the next few weeks phoning and emailing MPs and MPPs and whoever he has to to get some answers.
Occasionally one of us will look at the other and you can see our thoughts are wandering. “I just want so much to hold her.”
I wish I had a better, happier post for you. And for our daughter’s life book.
This was supposed to be a joyous day for all of us.
Jul
21
Have you ever had those moments where you wish that time could just stop, so you could savour the moment a little bit?
Many people have them — but often we’re too busy to stop and really appreciate them. I am trying to learn to live my life more in the moment, and and trying to remember to stop and appreciate those times when they come along. I know there are many of them to come, when Mystery Baby Girl is home and learning and growing.
I had one the other day. And I really wished I could just stop time, and sit there, and enjoy.
I was driving to meet BDH for lunch before my acupuncture appointment. And because of our location here, and the fact that the traffic here in town can be frustrating, we are able to skirt around the city and use some more rural roads on the outside of town to get where we are going.
I had just turned on to one of these roads, where the speed limit finally changes to 80 and we usually cut loose and go fast. I had just started to when I noticed up ahead there was something in the ditch. So I slowed right down, and out of the brush came a deer.
We have quite a number of deer around. In fact, we have a lot of wildlife. With one of the best vet and agriculture schools in the world on our doorstep, it’s a very wildlife-friendly place — one of the reasons why we love it here. But it has also taught us to be on the look out at all times for various creatures making their way near the roads when we’re driving anywhere. So you get used to slowing right down to let something go by.
Normally, the deer know their habitats pretty well, so they get across the road when nobody is near and they do it fairly quickly. But this one did not. She came up out of the ditch, looked both ways, and started to walk across the road. And then she stopped. She looked both ways again.
I would normally toot my horn to hurry her along, and my hand was poised to do so when I first saw her. But when she hesitated, so did I, for some reason.
And then, out of the ditch, tottered a little tiny fawn.
This was one of this year’s babies, back still dappled and legs a little shaky. She was beautiful. And mom was there, looking this way and that, patiently leading her littlest one across the road to the field on the other side.
Normally we would honk to startle a deer and hopefully discourage it from crossing a roadway in future, for their safety. But if I had done so that morning, I might have separated the mama from her baby. Something made me stop.
And they were both so beautiful, I wished I could just stop time there and watch them. I could spend hours watching the deer as they walk past our back fence at home, grazing, but we don’t often get a mama and her baby. Usually they keep the babies hidden in the woods. So this was really special.
I remembered just how beautiful they could be. And I wanted to just stop right there and forget about all the cares and worries of everyday life, all the bad news and troubles we hear about, and just enjoy something so pure and lovely for awhile.
But alas, life doesn’t work like that. In a few moments, they were safely across the road and into the bush on the other side. The moment was gone.
But for a few seconds there, time seemed to stop. And I was able to stop with it, and appreciate one of those precious moments.
I am getting better at this.
Jul
18
Ugh. It didn’t rain overnight as forecast and it’s going to be hot and humid and sticky again today — just in time for my acupuncture appointment. GREAT. So in honour of the weather, the Friday Fun is all about sticky things… and we’ll make it nice and short so you can go enjoy more pleasant temperatures somewhere else.
Tell me:
- … something hot and sticky that is NOT the weather.
- … something sticky you use around the house.
- … the hottest, most humid place you have ever been.
- … something that kids like that ends in a sticky mess!
- … something that is not as sticky as it should be.
- … a bit of a “sticky situation” you’ve found yourself in.
- And to end on a pleasant note… something sweet and sticky that would be tasty right now.
Alrighty, kids… I’m off to ride in my portable sauna to the acupuncturist. Stay cool!
Jul
17
Yesterday was the day I was going to try acupuncture for my 20-years-old back problem. (Yes. I changed my mind and switched from massage. No, I did not tell you. But it was in the comments! Read the comments, people!) It was also a billion degrees outside.
I wilt in the heat. I grew up with a pool, so unless there is the option to jump in a swimming pool or go into someplace air conditioned, I wilt like so much lettuce. I also sweat out the top of my head more than anywhere else, so you can imagine how warm it gets, not to mention the effect on any hairstyle. And, to help with that, my car’s air conditioning died sometime around 2006, and we cannot afford to get it fixed this year. So the half-hour drive to the acupuncturist was a warm one indeed.
Add to the heat my nervousness at the prospect of letting a stranger stick needles close to my spine, and you can imagine how incredibly, uncomfortably warm I was.
When I climbed up on the exam table, I was melting. And lying on your stomach in such circumstances does not help matters. And I had needles stuck in my lower back in short order, followed quickly by electropulses, so finding a comfortable position was nigh unto impossible.
I was so warm that the paper they put on exam tables literally disintegrated beneath me. It melted.
And I am not good when I am uncomfortably warm. Not good at all. So that hour was not my best day ever.
The backupuncture was fine. Acupuncture is a weird sensation — needles are stuck in but they are not pointy so much as putting pressure on points in your body, like a strange micro-massage. And he’d stick them in to test how deep to go and wiggle them around and it was strangely uncomfortable. And having these things pulsing with electrical energy was an unusual feeling. I cannot describe it. It was occasionally quite painful, almost. But once he had it set to the right amount, and I was cooling down and was able to just relax, it was not bad.
I don’t think it did much, but then, this is a very old injury and one treatment of any sort will not do it. But I think it has potential to help me, and so I am willing to give it a go — for as long as we can afford it, anyway. It’s not cheap, and not covered by the provincial health plan. But I am booked in again tomorrow, so we’ll see how it goes. And I am praying for a cooler day.
I got home, and decided to start washing and putting away the billions of baby clothes we now have for Mystery Baby Girl. I took a box of 6-12 month clothes upstairs, started streaming an episode of Coupling on the computer, and began sorting by colour. I would take a bunch down to start the washer, and come back to find Cinnamon rooting through the yellow fuzzy stuff. I would go downstairs and into the baby’s room to look for more things of a certain colour, and come back to find Lucy tunnelling into a fleece somethingorother.
Finally, armed with a squirt gun and waving my arms frantically, I shouted at the lot of them, “These are NOT! YOUR! CLOTHES! These are BABY CLOTHES! You! are! not! BABIES!!”
You can imagine how effective such a speech would be on a room full of cats.
Lucy gave me a look of “No habla ingles” and flopped down on a pair of overalls.
I sighed.
I did a couple of loads of clothes and went to bed.
This morning, we got up and BDH pointed to the basket full of pink things sitting in the bathroom and asked, “Are these clean?”
I told him yes, they were.
“Not so much anymore,” he said.
It seems BDH got up to pee in the middle of the night and went into the bathroom. It was dark. In the dark, he heard the “peep peep peep” sound that Duncan makes when he is talking in a friendly way to somebody. He switched on the light to find Duncan happily relaxing in a pile of pink.
“You’re not a girl,” said BDH.
This morning, I added, “No, but he IS a baby. And perhaps he feels he looks good in pink.”
Some men do, you know.
Jul
15
Our adoption court date is scheduled for this week. So is my visit to the massage therapist for my back.
I’m not getting my hopes up but… Here’s hoping both go well.
Jul
14
I can’t sit still today.
Literally.
I am physically unable to sit still. For I have tweaked my back once again (Damn you, L3 and L4! Damn you and your facet joints to hell!) and so sitting for any period of time in any sort of position causes me some serious discomfort.
Come to think of it, sleeping’s no hell either.
I am starting to find my various injuries tiresome. I have lived my life for the past twenty years with these things and put up with the pain because the doctors said, “They’re not serious, they’re just aggravating. And there’s no way to fix them.” Well, surely medical science has advanced enough in twenty years to make it possible to do SOMETHING.
The question is… when?
I am not in a position, this close to bringing Mystery Baby home, to do anything about it right now. And that is a drag. If I had reached this point of frustration a long time ago perhaps I could have seen the doctors, had the treatments or surgeries, whatever — but then, there was always something to do then too, wasn’t there? Just in the last 5 years, there has been a wedding, a miscarriage, infertility treatment, medical reports, homestudy… so there was nothing that could be done for fear of delaying or even jeopardizing any of those.
And now I find myself faced with a couple of years of picking a baby up and putting her down and lifting things and pushing things and carrying things… and I worry that I won’t be able to do what I need to do sometimes. And what’s worse, I won’t be able to do what I WANT to do a lot of the time. And that makes me a little worried, and a little sad.
It’s not that I am in constant pain. There are far more good days than bad days. But there are a lot more bad days than there used to be as I get older. When my knees are bad I can’t bend them to sit or go down stairs. And a bad back day leaves me in really bad shape, with spasms and unable to move at all. So I want to do something to make it go away.
But until I can take the time to have them properly fixed, I will have to muddle through. And that means, move. I can keep moving. That’s the only thing that keeps the back pain at bay. And perhaps if I keep moving I will strengthen my knees as well.
Plus, what baby doesn’t like to get out for walks and to play in the yard and stuff like that?
I can’t sit still. It’s a good thing — at least in the short term — that a baby keeps you on the go.
Jul
13
Today’s random information:
- A power washer and some dirty lawn chairs on a hot sunny day is really just a high-powered grown-up lawn sprinkler. I am drenched and sunburnt and happy as Larry. And I have clean lawn chairs! I hope it’s sunny again tomorrow so I can power wash something else.
- Homemade apple crumble pie rocks. And it’s really easy.
- Moving to New Zealand is not an option. Damn. It struck me as a brilliant plan this morning…
- My gardening shoes (faux-Crocs) have given me a very strange polka-dotted tan on my feet, and the look of perpetually dirty ankles because of an unfortunate tan line.
- Not all teenage boys are sullen, irresponsible and shiftless. They are, however, NOISY.
- I have discovered I can still do things that require tools and some manner of strength and whatnot by myself. I thought the ability had left me sometime around the time I found myself part of a couple, as often happens. But, I find myself alone bytimes with things to do, and thinking, “Well, why don’t you just do it your own self, then?” And lo and behold, I can.
- I miss swimming and sunshine.
- A good icy cold beverage is a happy thing indeed.
- I’ve been mapping my bike rides each day — well, actually, I am quite a bit behind, but I have a map started and when I left off in early June I was already in Kingston. I estimate that I am probably well into Quebec by now. When I get it up-to-date I’ll post it. Go me!
Jul
11
Yay! It started raining overnight, with low, rumbling thunderstorms that make me just want to stay in bed and snooze. But I can’t — things to be done and all that. Hopefully it will rain all weekend, so maybe tomorrow or Sunday can be a lazy lay-in-bed kind of morning.
So here I am, with a Friday Fun all about rainy days.
So tell me:
- Do you like or dislike rainy days?
- What colour is your umbrella?
- Where’s one place you don’t like to go/one thing you don’t like to do when there’s a thunderstorm?
- Name a song with “rain” in the title.
- What’s a fun rainy-day activity to do with kids?
- What’s the best colour for rain boots?
- Where’s someplace you’ve been (or want to go) where it rains a lot?
- Name 3 relaxing things to do at a cottage on a rainy day.
- What’s one time you were caught in the rain that you didn’t want to be?
- Should I make an apple crumble or oatmeal raisin cookies today (since I am staying in out of the rain)?
Have a good day!
Jul
9
Okay, so… we did not get the rain we were promised yesterday, and consequently it is hotter and more humid than Satan’s armpit out there. I walked the 100 feet to the fence — slowly — at 8:30 this morning to empty our blue jay/squirrel feeder, and by the time I walked back to the house I was dripping.
It’s repulsive. I hate it when it’s like this.
Not only does the humidity make me uncomfortable, it is also a drain on my energy. So instead of being out there in the humidity I am inside with many things to do, and no energy to do them. And this is bad. I find that on days like this, my computer takes over and the things I have to do on the computer — writing and research — get done, while the rest of my tasks don’t.
I have a love/hate relationship with this laptop some days. I love software. I love podcasts. I love the internet. I love my email. I love having constant access to information and services and people. But I hate how it drains away hours of my life without my noticing sometimes. And because it is portable, it can come with me everywhere. For playing music and podcasts while I work, it’s great. But for the allure of access to the outside world, the hypnotic pull of the “ping” noise as email comes in… it’s evil.
So I have to make a conscious effort to budget my time sometimes. I have to get my writing done as expediently as possible — not always an easy task when inspiration or news and information are in short supply. It’s getting to the point where I am considering giving up a couple of my writing gigs because it’s just taking up too much time in my day. (And I am not getting paid, so it’s hard to justify sometimes.)
I also have to ensure that my time with my laptop is NOT spent sitting, but rather the two of us working together — using it while I exercise, for example, or having it provide accompaniment while I work on cleaning or cooking or whatever. I am pretty good at this part… but if the siren song of email or my newsreader or whatever calls out, I can lose a half an hour like *snaps fingers* THAT.
And the internet provides me with access to shopping — which can be, but fortunately is NOT, a drain on our bank account. Thank goodness I am so cheap. I am wicked cheap. I shop online, but only for bargains. And even then, I can talk myself out of buying even the biggest sale items if, for example, the tax works out to be too much or the shipping cost is too high.
So the laptop may win some battles, but cheap trumps everything.
I know that soon, there will be a demand on my time that will make all this stuff disappear to the periphery — she will be the major portion of my day’s focus. She’ll take the place of my laptop in providing me with company and amusement. Her schedule will force all the rest to fit into smaller parts of the day.
In the meantime, though… time ticks by with the ticking of the keyboard and my energy flows away with the rising humidity. Thank goodness we haven’t got much money to spend, or my day would be down the drain.
Jul
8
It’s one of those days.
- It’s a billion degrees with the humidex outside. I await thunderstorms with great anticipation. Although we’ve lived in the Bermuda triangle of weather during the past 5 years or so — weather that is forecast hits everywhere BUT here, passing just north or south or east of us — this year seems to be different. We’ve had big snow and big storms and twisters so far this year. So maybe this summer will be a stormy one. We can hope — it beats the promise of rain that never comes, and seeing my plants and lawn die of drought.
- I have decreed: Next year, we are finishing our basement, buying a rollaway daybed, and moving into the basement for all of June, July and August. (Maybe.) It’s so nice and COOL down there, and we wouldn’t have to worry about running the A/C as long to cool the rest of the house.
- My cat has been barfing. Not that this is a serious thing: she barfs a few times a week. Usually it’s because she’s hungry and she either can’t remember where her food is, or she knows where it is but decides “DO NOT WANT” and then goes and drinks water until she barfs. So that’s quite normal, actually. The problem is that she’s been barfing on her blankie, which then has to go in the wash. This causes Yelly McScreamsalot to walk around doing her MADMADMAD thing and shrieking her fool head off because she has no blankie to sleep on. When she’s not yelling because she’s hungry, that is — completely forgetting she just barfed 14 minutes ago. Ah, the joys of senile geriatric cat management.
- I filled a bird feeder with seed. The birds are happy. The squirrels are happy. The lemon thyme below the feeder? Not quite so happy. BDH? Will not be quite so happy when he sees the condition of said lemon thyme.
- We have been watching a lot of streaming TV. Specifically The Tudors, Season 4 of Doctor Who, and Mythbusters. Good doG, how I love the Internets.
- 6 or so years ago, we planted a honeysuckle vine at our back fence. The intent was for it to grow and cover the back fence, hiding a bit of the weediness of the conservation area and attracting butterflies and hummingbirds. We planted it, we put a trellis in for it to start on, and we walked away. The thing took off like a shot, growing up and all over the trellis, and blooming and thriving. But no matter what we did, it would not crawl along the fence. I have each year fed new runners through the fence and not one has ever grown along the fence. So, this morning I went out and checked on some of the vines I had thread through over the past few weeks. Sometime during the past few days, each one has been almost surgically been snipped off, right at the fence. And then I realized: there are no vines within about 5 feet of the ground, on the other side of the fence. It seems certain wildlife, who shall remain nameless (*ahem* DEER *ahem*) have been partaking of my honeysuckle as a tasty snack, walking along and… NOMNOMNOMNOM… there goes my honeysuckle. Oh well, at least they’re doing it while I am not looking — unlike Charleston, who stands there and shamelessly noms all my daisies RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME, with a “WHAT??” look on his face.
- I was going to buy some clearance items at Victoria’s Secret today. But I realized we haven’t got a lot of spare cash, and I need a clothesline more. Good grief, I am becoming a MOM.
And, on a serious note:
- Some loved ones have received some terrible news and are currently coping with a heartrending situation at a hospital down East. We think good thoughts and say our prayers for them, but it’s one of those situations where there is nothing we can do to help. It’s a horrible feeling, knowing people you care for are in such pain and you cannot help them. All we can do is hope and pray.
Jul
7
We’ve been slowly preparing for the arrival of our Mystery Baby Girl. It’s too hot and humid to do much that’s not indoors in the air conditioning, and even then, because the temperature is turned up to save some money — HA! Like we’ll ever be able to save money on our hydro bill. That’s some comedy right there. — it’s still fairly warm. So we’re moving slowly.
There are quite a few things left to do, but we’ve been on this Slow Boat to Ethiopia for so long, we know rushing is hardly necessary. We’re just doing a bit here and a bit there, and filling the waiting time up with little tasks. I don’t want to do everything in a big rush and then sit and twiddle my thumbs for the next two months or more. Plus, I like to offer BDH the option of participating, but between work and soccer, his week is busy and the time he is at home he’s not keen on being busy again. So…
I’ve started washing the baby clothes to get ready to put them away, which means the money we’re saving in higher A/C temperatures we’re just using in another way. But it has to be done, and at least it’s indoors. And it’s fun. I can sort through and decide what we’ll use, wash those ones and pack the rest back in a box. I still have to clear stuff out of the baby’s room in order to get in and put all these things away, but I plan on doing that this week. Slowly. So as not to generate too much heat.
I’ve also got to get bedding washed and ready, which is more to add to the laundry pile. And there’s also an overall cleaning of the room, with washing walls and baseboards and vacuuming and shampooing the carpet to be done, which will have to wait for a cooler day. And painting — we have to paint. But that will have to wait, too.
Another more leisurely job has been online shopping. Last week, when I got the Toys Backwards R Us flyer in my inbox, I checked out the clearance section. And because I love me some clearance items, and because we haven’t any toys other than stuffed animals and loveys for Mystery Baby Girl, I ordered a couple of little toys specifically for when we are travelling. A couple of soft rattles, a set of keys, and a couple of other little odds and ends. Things to amuse a little one and that she can gum all over during the long flight home. Small enough to pack, and quiet — two essentials. All cheapcheapcheap, which is the BEST.
After Toys Backwards R Us, I moved on to Chapters, where I started compiling a shopping bag full of books. I want to buy some adoption-specific storybooks to give Mystery Baby Girl for Christmases as we go along, so, since I have some gift cards, I thought I would start looking. We want to encourage reading right from the start, and I want to have a couple of adoption storybooks among the favourites. We already have a couple. And I don’t want to overdo it, because her life isn’t all-about-adoption-all-the-time-on-all-channels, but I hope there will be a couple well-loved ones in the mix of Boynton and Dr. Seuss and other storybooks she likes to read. So one or two from Santa for the next few years should be plenty.
So, bit by bit, as we have time, energy and can afford things, we’re getting there.
There’s lots to do. In time.
Jul
4
Summer is here, and it’s too hot to get too complicated or fancy. Thinking of answers to too many complicated questions is too much work — especially on a nice sunny day when you’d rather be outside! Simple is best in sumer.
So here are some nice and easy questions to start a nice and easy weekend.
- What was your best subject in school?
- Do you have a good recipe for potato salad? (and if you do… share!)
- Are you a lover or a killer of house plants?
- What’s something you know now that you wish you knew when you were younger?
- What book are you reading right now?
- What’s your favourite quick and easy meal?
- If you had a spare $100 to give to charity, what charity would you pick?
- What are 3 green things you can see right now?
- If you could be any animal, which one would you pick?
- Where did BDH put his sunglasses?
And now, I am off to get some groceries.
Jul
3
There are things I am learning and things I still need to know about parenting, and most of it is not to be found in those baby books that everyone reads (and is often terrified by). I get a lot of information from friends, neighbours or experience with kids I know. But some… well, I haven’t got it yet. I just hope it comes soon.
- I have no idea what to feed my child when I bring her home. I hope somebody tells me.
- Explosive diarrhea (a.k.a. “bumsplodin”) is going to happen. Don’t kid yourself.
- Soothers are made for parents, not babies. Because it works like a plug and keeps the baby yelly noises in, thereby helping keep parents calm. (So I bought, like, EIGHT of them.)
- Embrace the random.
- Kids will pee on the pool deck at swimming lessons. No amount of rubber pants is going to help.
- All kids hate all foods — except for, say, 3 completely unrelated things, like cheese and french fries and lettuce — between the ages of 2.5 and 4. Psychological tactics don’t work, bargaining doesn’t work, punishment doesn’t work. However, kids can survive quite happily on those 3 foods, so just stock up and ride it out.
- Do I really NEED baby laundry detergent?
- It doesn’t matter how clean you keep your house, babies learning to crawl will find and eat whatever specks and schmutz you have on your floor.
- If you buy the toys that make the noise, you have nobody to blame but yourself.
- I need to make a list of medicines and what they are used for, and stock up. I have nothing right now.
- Talk TO kids, not AT them, and actually LISTEN to what they say. Their language development will be huge, and they actually behave better because they LIKE to be listened to, and they ENJOY participating in conversations.
- If you’re going to hand out punishments to a misbehaving child, make them things that work for YOU. For example, if you ground a child or take away TV privileges for a week, then you’ve just got a crabby child that YOU have to deal with all week long. But if you make him clean up the dog poop in the yard all week, or pull weeds… then voila! They are punished, and YOU get something done.
Jul
2
I was all set to come in here today and write about my day yesterday.
I was at a Canada Day volleyball tournament yesterday, playing some recreational ball in the sun with friends. It was a lovely day. And I watched a young woman I used to coach when she first started out, and she’s grown into a very poised, very talented athlete. And I started feeling my age, with torn-up painful knees, and I thought, “I remember when I used to be that good.”
So today, I was feeling like writing one of those oh-to-be-young-again, missing-who-I-used-to-be, growing-old, contemplative, blah-de-blah-blahing kind of posts.
And then I read this article about a woman who will be competing, and perhaps medalling, in swimming at the Beijing Olympics. And she’s 41 YEARS OLD.
Dude. LOOK at the woman. Look what she is doing AT MY AGE.
Granted, she’s spending, what, 100K a year with a staff whipping her into shape. (I mean, if I had 100K, I could be awesome fit too. I could kick some butt my own self.) And we won’t analyze the divorces and time spent away from current husband and kid.
But on the surface of it, she’s 41 years old and she’s fit and she’s worked her can off to get back into shape. And she’s competing with the young kids.
And after reading that?
She TOTALLY made me look like a big ol’ whiny crybaby butthead. Who needs to get in shape.
So… yeah. Never mind.
