Growing Family

Milk and Moving

Last night I bought milk with an expiration date that falls later than our arrival in Sydney date. Kinda cool.

Is that it?

Yup, it is.

And The Award Goes To...

You would think that being hyper aware of the adoption losses of Small Sun and the way different experiences might induce anxiety for him, I would be more aware of how both my children may struggle through transition. Quite the opposite, actually. I get the award of the year for Oblivious Mom.

The Sprout had her 15 month shots about two weeks ago and the ped. observed that she had an ear infection as well. We agreed to watch it before doing antibiotics (which basically means that I say "okay, we'll watch it for a bit" fully aware that I WILL NOT call in for a prescription unless the world is coming to an end). So I've been focusing on her getting lots of sleep and good nutrition and vitamin C and fluids. On top of the effects of the shots and her ear, she's been cutting her incisors for what feels like FOREVER.

I feel as if I've been holding her non-stop for a week. She's always been a snugler but lately, the moment I set her down is the moment she starts crying. The Captain dubbed her "The Saddest Girl In The World" because when she cries it is SO dramatic, and SO heartfelt. Even if it's over something I can't see as significant, she applies her full energy to her grieving.

The last couple days she has been playing on her own some, but as soon as I turn to something I actually need to do, she plasters herself to my legs, crying with all her might, sprouting cartoonish tears, and falling down on my feet. It is A.N.N.O.Y.I.N.G. I've spent so much time holding and soothing and consoling her and I'm about worn out with it.

Then tonight, I was on the phone with my mom, and she was commenting on how it sounded like I was in a big empty space, and indeed I was: our house is about half full at this point. My mom made the comment that the Sprout must be having a really hard time, with not feeling well to begin with, and then witnessing her whole world and environment change without having the verbal ability to process it.

Dumb mom moment of the year. (I hope.) Here I've been talking Small Sun through every step. Prepping him for each change before it comes, saying goodbye to furniture before it leaves, rehearsing over and over what will happen in the next couple of months. I completely overlooked the little bewildered girl hanging onto my legs. How do I explain to her what's happening?

I think my attention to Small Sun's losses sometimes clouds my focus on the Sprout's need for guidance. I feel so bad that I haven't done more to help her through this. I've even been steeling myself for a rash of regressive behaviors in Small Sun, when we move to my parent's this week. I've got to take some time to figure out how to soften this transition for my baby girl too.

Step Up 2 The Streets

I'm working on a response to Juno but in the meantime I wanted to write about the movie I saw last night: Step Up 2 The Streets. Although my dance background is is classical ballet, and ultimately, modern, my current fascination is with hip hop, and break dancing. I have no kinesthetic awareness of how to make my body move in those ways, but watching it really gets me going. I see pretty much every dance movie that comes out, regardless of its potential success as a film. I just love to watch people dancing.

Step Up 2 had some mad choreography. Interestingly enough, it had some stuff lifted right out of the most dynamic choreo from last season's So You Think You Can Dance. I did a quick Google to see if the same choreographer collaborated on the film but I didn't find anything right off the bat. Anyway, what I want to talk about in the film isn't the dancing, it's the plot.

This movie (and most dance movies) is not strong on plot or acting, it's strong on moves. Since the plot is so simplistic, I don't feel bad about paring it down to real basics (*spoilers*). Here's what I saw:

The main character is a white girl, recently orphaned, and part of a dance crew in a rough part of Baltimore. The 410 crew are survivors, they're all each other has, yada yada yada. Because she's becoming a problem for her mom's best friend, the woman who is caring for her, the woman decides to ship her off to Texas to live with her aunt. Her last chance to stay with her family, her crew, is to get into an arts school (MSA from the first film).

At the school there is a tightly wound, waspy directer determined to bring the school to Julliard's level, and his brother, Chase, who has left his ballet base to stray into street dance. He's seen Andie (our main girl) dance and convinces his brother to take a chance letting a street dancer into the school. Long story short, because she's going to the art school and missing rehearsals, her crew kicks her out. Yuppie ballet-street dancer Chase convinces her that she can start a new crew with the art school rejects who all have sic dance skills but don't fit the school mold and are overlooked in the school's classical dance programs.

The crux, and the part that kills me, is that the conflict of the movie becomes the kids from the art school struggling to be recognized as legit in The Streets (the street level, hard core dance competitions). The Streets is supposed to be for neighborhood kids only. It is the battle ground where kids with no other opportunity, outlet, or resource, compete for identity and pride.

The MSA school kids keep clawing their way back to eventually make it to the big competition. Everyone is booing them and Andie climbs on a speaker stack to give an impassioned (and totally corny) speech about how The Streets aren't just about neighborhood and turf, they are about giving a place for people that don't have any other place to find strength and support. She says something like "maybe we're not welcome here but anyone who wants to see us dance can see us outside!" Of course everyone is screaming and yelling in support of her speech (including the teary MSA director who has followed his students into the hood) and the crowd pours out into the rain where Andie and her school crew throw down some mad dancing and take the title from the reigning 410s.

Here's where I boil it down to the bones that stick in my teeth (I'm not even going to get into the completely stereotypical treatment of the Japanese student and the Latina girl.):

White girl gets kicked out of her black crew and almost thrown out by her black guardian. She gets into a privileged arts school and hooks up with power family white boy. Together they form a crew of mostly students of color (all privileged students in regard to the opportunities granted through the school), to go back into the projects to completely stomp the all black crew in their own territory at their own game.

In between the crazy dancing it was like the movie was yelling "hey black kids in the projects with crappy schools, no jobs, and no opportunities! think you can find a way to gain some self identity, success, and respect? well we privileged kids will come smack that out of you too!

Of course you can argue Andie was also from the streets, people of her school crew were persecuted in their school and were rejects and outcasts, etc, but basically, it was like the people who had something just put the smack down on the kids who didn't have anything but the respect dancing gave them. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong, but that's what I saw. See it yourself, and tell me, after you've stopped bouncing off the walls from the energy of the dancing, tell me what you think.

I Should Call Her

I should call my friend and say "two more weeks till you're living in my house! I mean your house!".

Two weeks from today we close.

Ten days from now we go to stay at my parent's house.

April 1st we get on that airplane and fly away.

We FINALLY have temporary housing arranged again. Listen to this: I spent hours looking for places, sending emails, making phone calls and getting nowhere. The other night The Captain looks for awhile too and notes some possibilities. Last night, with me in tears and lying on the bed immobile with frustration, he gets on the phone and makes a reservation. I really don't get it.

Small Sun fussed over me saying "I'll take care of you, little Mamma." He put his blanket on me (including my face), sat on me for awhile, put a cold metal object in my belly button to "check" me, and gave me slobby kisses with strangling hugs. It was really endearing. The Sprout sat on my face.

I know I keep saying this but I'm at this odd place now where I don't really know what to do. I love to pack. I want to pack. But since the movers pack, I can't. We're moving in a week and a half and all the books are on the shelf, the towels are in the closet, the clothes are in the dresser. What am I supposed to be doing?

I'm having trouble savoring the moments. We have a lot of playdates and evening engagements but my mind is glued on dates out in the future. Moving to my parents, closing on the house, a much anticipated girl's night with my playgroup friends, a going away party. I need to slow down and savor everything, especially since there's nothing better for me to be doing.

I'm sure you are all getting sick of hearing about this. I know I am.

If you have questions you want me to answer or topics you want me to blog about, fire away.

Landing on a Meme

My friend Shyla tagged me for a meme and I thought a little break from the frustration of house hunting might be a good thing.

I'm supposed to tell six interesting things about myself. Here are six things; as for interesting, you be the judge.

1. I have never broken a bone, had stitches, or sustained any serious or legitimate injury. Growing up I was always really afraid of getting hurt and I played accordingly.

2. My mother believes that the Bible teaches that women should have long hair and that short hair on women is improper at best. Once, in junior high, I cut my hair to above my bra strap, but below my shoulders. My mother was grieved and said I should wear a scarf to hide it until it grew out. Because I love my parents and wanted to respect them, I kept my hair long while I lived in their house. After I got married and came home from my honeymoon, I went to HouseWives On Fire in Amsterdam and lopped off a good 1.5/2 feet of hair. My father-in-law told me "God builds the house but he lets us thatch the roof and dress the windows." I really appreciated that.

3. There is a concert of birds that fly down the street across from my kitchen window. I see them flashing in the breaks between the houses, like a wall of moving white. Every time it takes my breathe away.

4. When I was about 11 or 12 we moved to a house in the country near a little general store. The old men from the community would sit on the porch rocking and talking, but go silent when we came up because we were "Yankees" and people didn't trust us. My dad broke the barrier by helping with a cattle round up one day. Recently, my friend, who is Creole, was in that community and a man holding a shotgun told her that people of color are "less than a coon's ass", not that it is their fault, but that's just what they are. I have some wonderful memories from living at that place, but they are somewhat tainted by what I understand as an adult.

5. I'm a vegetarian and have been for 18 years. When I was a kid we had a hunter live with us for awhile and I saw the before and after of what we ate at the table. Then, when we moved to the South, my dad went all country on us and started a little farm. The animals that hadn't made it into the dinner parade up north, ended up on our table down south. I've never really gotten over it.

6. I love stories. Reading books, watching movies and documentaries, and hearing people talk; stories are what move me and catch me.

Craigslist and Weirdos

I am waiting to see if my reservation request at some swanky accommodations has been accepted. Dang, people, Sydney is EXPENSIVE when it comes to hotel/holiday accommodation. $150 a night will basically get you some run down trucker motel if you're looking for a hotel. A holiday rental is slightly more balanced so that's what I'm looking for. There just aren't a lot of options and any way we work it, it's going to cost a lot of money.

So we've decided to rent a holiday house for two weeks and just move like mad to get in something more permanent. Getting stuck in a hotel would be the worst case-scenario.

Lured by the possibility of a good deal, I put a Craislist ad up, hoping to find something great, or at least cheap (cheap being very relative at this point). Let me tell you, Criagslist Sydney is full of crazies!

Finally I waded through the super-sketchy offers ("give me your identifying personal information so I can secure this place for you today", "please contact my wife, the Reverend so-and-so because she is making the decisions while I am on crusade in Africa, we are happy that you are an honest person, we hope you will trust us and not mind when we stop by, on occasion, which we like to do", and "I just want someone with good energy, there is enough bad energy in the world, I want to come home to good energy, please tell me you are in love with my apartment!" - that from a person who says she wanted to rent her place out but advertises for a flatmate), to narrow down to a potential three. The main drawing point of the first place was a beautiful bathroom (I really love a nice bathroom). As I went over the places for more details, it struck me, wait, don't these places have the same bathroom? Are they part of a complex or something? Hm. Odd.

A quick Google images search confirmed that yes, this beautiful bathroom picture comes up on the first page of stock photos. So, I've discarded Craigslist as a viable housing-finding tool. I'll buy a toaster from someone on Craigslist, but housing, no thanks.

Firsts

Yesterday I found my first white hair.

A little while later Small Sun sliced his hand open playing with a tape measure.

I almost passed out at the doctor's office. They made me sit down and drink Sprite and wouldn't let me get up. I was fine up until the end. I guess when the bandage was on his hand, my body figured it didn't need to hold itself together for his sake anymore.

Filling Up

We are simple people. We lead a simple life on purpose. We say "no" to most opportunities to get involved with things. We want to spend each evening together around our table, putting our children to bed early, and having a peaceful night.

Of course we still end up doing stuff. We have friends, and hobbies and commitments, but our baseline is low key.

This week, we have something every single night for six nights straight. Then, the following week, five out of seven days booked. The week after that, three commitments in the week before moving during the weekend. And try as much as I want to to keep those nights free for packing, I'm guessing they're fill up as well.

I am starting to become aware of all the lasts taking place. I'm going to favorite restaurants fully aware that this is probably the last time. I'm driving the familiar drive to church, counting down on one hand how many times I'll drive that way again. And even though I know seeing people this many days in a row will send my personality into hibernation drive (I'm very sociable, but only for short bursts followed by long recoveries), I'm saying "yes, yes, yes" to ever dinner invitation, play-date, and girls night, knowing that I won't see these dear people for so long. If ever again.

Friends like Amie, our paths crossing during the temporary time of her living here for her husband's residency. Brought together by adoption, we are each heading off onto our own adventures. We have no other connections to bring our paths together again, yet she has become a dear friend.

Mommy friends that I wouldn't have made outside of parenting, who are my wonderful companions. I'm sure they'll grow and change and move, or stay. So many of the relationships I'm in right now have served a full purpose in this season of my life. And now that season is changing. I've lived through just enough seasons now to realize that many of these relationships will fade, after the sweet blossom we've experienced.

So it is with bittersweet emotions that I hold my calendar open and fill up the spaces, knowing that I will be tired, but that I am filling up my tank of friendship and support, relishing the moments with all the dear people I have in my life. Dear people, I love you!

Snaffoo

After a long and mostly sleepless night I am thankful that we are safe and fine. My parents have no phone or power and my dad was in the ER last night with health concerns. They had to find away around the trees covering the road. I spent some time in the 2' by 4' closet with both of the kids. Even from in the closet, with the clothes all around our heads, I could hear the hail hitting the house. The tornado sirens were going pretty much all night.

The days breaks, with some blue sky showing and daffodil stems knifing up through the soil. Springs always comes to Tennessee with bluster and blazing.

It seems that while the downpour was coming down here, it was also coming down into our temporary housing in Sydney, from the neighbor's apartment above. So, we are out of a place to stay. It took WEEKS of tedious searching to find that in our price range and not many days went by that I didn't look at it on Google maps, admiring its closeness to world-famous Bondi Beach.

So, the hunt starts again. I'm pretty much accepting that it is likely we'll have to pay more.

Speaking of Goo-Goo, as Small Sun calls it, The Captain had a second interview yesterday and we're waiting to hear the results. Of course if he got it I couldn't tell you because that would be identifying information...wink.

I've submitted quote requests on 14 houses and now I'm off to try to nap for a couple minutes before Sprout wakes back up. I've got a lot to do today with Small Sun at school!

25 Days

25 Days left living in this sweet little housey.

We're going to live the last month at my parent's house as this house will be sold and our belongings will be shipped to OZ.

All the big things are done. I keep wondering if I'm forgetting something. We'll go to my parent's with out suitcases packed and everything else disposed of, as there won't be any room to add last minute things.

1 Carry on per person, and 2 50lb suitcases. I remember when we moved to Russia carrying our computer in huge carry on bags (you know the computer was monstrous in 1996!). Now we are taking those same huge duffels to move our family.

Packing is a little tricky because we'll be staying in a furnished apartment for the first couple of weeks. There is the possibility that moving into our own place and our belongings arriving won't exactly coincide. I plan on bringing enough stuff to rough it in an empty apartment for the first bit, if we need to. With small kids, "roughing it" still includes a lot!

The internet may dampen my level of excitement before it reaches you, the reader. Trust me when I say I AM SO EXCITED!!! Nearly every friend I see starts talking about how sad they are that I am moving and I just can't keep the goofy grin off my face. I know I'll be sad too. Mark my words, I'm sure I'll be crying on my keyboard very, very soon. But I am still SO EXCITED.

We're not seeing as many friends as I expected. I imagine April 1st doesn't seem that close to a lot of people. My calendar sits open on my desk, and I look at it about twenty times a day. Just checking, yup, 25 days left in this house!

So friends, call me up! Let our kids play! The clock's a tickin' and I'm a grinnin'. See, I'm even writing stupid stuff, I'm so excited.