Happy Thankgiving

A day for giving thanks, not that it shouldn't be part of every day. We have so much to be thankful for.
Lian is doing well. Despite needing additional surgery to say most consonants, (she is limited to m,n and h right now) she is picking up vocabulary and language. That still allows her to say, "Mine!" and "No" very clearly. This morning when Jamie got out a jacket for her she said, "not mine" recognizing it as Lela's. Then when given another coat, she handed it back saying,"not match." Puleze Papa, I'm wearing pink today. Another little fashionista is born. She starts speech next Monday. Her first surgery for lip/nose reconstruction, ear tubes and a tooth removal is now scheduled for January 4.
Lela is adapting to her new sister. She likes the status of big sister and has taken on the mantle of bossing with a regal air. They fight, but that's what sisters do sometimes. They also play and conspire, build pillow tents, hold elaborate tea services, (no one without a tiara admitted.) and consider napping on Lela's bed together as the best treat there is.
So we offer thanks for our darling, beloved girls. They are home forever, free to blossom, discover their talents, grow and find their own paths. Thanks for our family and friends who have supported us in our journey, through the downs and the ups. Thanks for this beautiful place where we live. Thanks for a sunny day with a few last roses blooming to grace our dinner table.
The tears and trials that lead us here are in the past. Our hearts and arms are full. The guiding hand that brought these two little miracles to us has given a blessing that can never be repaid, and for that we give thanks, now and forever.

Catching Up

Finally got the computer to cooperate long enough to put up some new images. We've had an action packed month - so much for a quiet family introduction for the new child. This child is doing just fine anyway. Some was of necessity - Lian had to see a slew of doctors. Some of it was seasonal - Halloween and the Church Fair are not movable feasts. Some of it was just life. The weather cooperated in October and we were graced with many extra days of summer so Lian got her first taste of the beach (about a 5 minute walk from our house.) She and Lela had a great time building a huge sand "castle" though I'm sure a building inspector would condemn it in a flash.

Dress up rules in our household and Lian has taken to it like the proverbial princess to a tiara (sorry ducks.) The second picture is Halloween but it is sandwiched between a glimpse of more everyday wear around the house. The clomping of high heels is now stereo.

We had good news bad news with Lian's medical reports. She'll be getting speech therapy from Early Intervention. Good news - no cognitive problems with her language abilities. Bad new - she just doesn't have the physical equipment to make many of the sounds we take for granted. That will come with additional surgery, but we will pick up the pace on learning sign language so she doesn't get frustrated.

Good news - her surgeon has decided to redo her lip now so she'll have mobility on that side of her face - and look even cuter. When they redo her palate next spring they will even give her some collagen to fill out her upper lip.

Big sis Lela is getting more accustomed to her shadow. Whatever Lela does, Lian wants to try. As a big sister I can remember this - and while it can be flattering it can also DRIVE YOU NUTS. So I do call off the dog occasionally. Speaking of dogs, Lian has gone from screaming in terror at the mere glimpse of a tail to hugging and giving out the dog treats, not to mention allowing the dog to clean her plate. Gotta get a picture of that. Gotta convey that dog licked plates still have to go through the dishwasher before reuse.

All in all, Lian has adapted to her new life so quickly and completely that I keep waiting for the shoe to drop - then the other one. She has bonded with us, the dog, even the chief competition, Lela. She gives grandma hugs and kisses. She picks out her shoes. She uses a potty for #2. She eats brocolli and tofu and asks for more! What more could a mother ask for.

Shaoguan, Lela's Turn

9/24/07 Shaoguan, Lela’s Turn
Today we are going to Shaoguan to visit Lela’s SWI, Social Welfare Institute. We were not able to visit when we adopted her in January 2005 because of scheduling problems and the impending Chinese New Year, which closes down the country for two weeks. She has been very nervous about this visit. Somewhere in the back of her head she is afraid of being left or reclaimed, despite all our reassurances. I am hoping this visit will put paid to some of her kidnapped by a monster bad dreams.
Our guide will meet us at 8am at our room, so we must get up early. No problem for me, since my usual wake up is 4am, but we set the alarm just in case. I am up well before, trying to catch up on my writing and e-mail. We wake up the girls at 7,and both are tired and logy, but we hustle them into clothing and through breakfast. Our guide, Daniel, arrives at our door at 8:10, but we still need a few more minutes. I have to race upstairs one more time when Lela decides she wants a pretty dress to wear. This is so they will know that she’s not a baby. The trip will take about three hours on the new expressway built in 2002. Before that it was a six hour drive on a two-lane road, twisting along the mountain sides. We find that Chinese highways are set up a bit differently. Our inside passing lane is the car lane, the middle lane is for passing and trucks are on the outside.
It’s sunny as we head north on the expressway. Beyond the airport we start seeing hills rise up. I didn’t realize that there were mountain foothills so near Guangzhou, but we will be climbing higher. It takes a while to exit the suburbs of Guangzhou, and we have glimpses of all the facets of a big city, industrial warehouses, train yards, busy shopping streets and thousands of apartment buildings, from modern high rises to deteriorated but still populated structures. As we near the boundaries, tiny vegetable plots are crammed into every vacant space.
Daniel tells us about the area. Though Guangdong is the wealthiest province in China, that wealth is concentrated around the southern cities. 60% of the population still lives below the poverty level in rural areas. Guangzhou has gone from a population of about 1 million in the 70’s to 7 million residents and roughly 5 million immigrants come seeking factory jobs. This is where a lot of the cheap junk in Wal-Mart comes from, the sweatshops of Guangdong. The famous low prices are built on near slave labor working conditions, 7 days a week, 12 to 14 hours a day, locked into dormitories to sleep – mostly manned by young woman. But for adoption, that might be have been the fate of our daughters. OK off the soap box.
We are still seeing factories surrounded by farm land. Daniel explains that Guangzhou has enacted pollution laws, and many of the worst types of plants have moved out to rural areas where the authorities welcome the money they bring, so we see cement factories, chemical plants and smelters.
The land is lush and green. We are surrounded by plantations of litchi trees, Guangdong’s major fruit product, banana palms, many kinds of squash and beans. Farming villages are clusters of one to three story homes and apartments surrounded by a patchwork in shades of jade and emerald. The flat land near the highway grow a grassy crop, perhaps rice, with fruit trees climbing the hills.
The weather begins to deteriorate as we climb into the mountains and rain starts to spatter. Around us are rolling ridges, backed by sharp peaked mountains spiking into the low clouds. There are glimpses into steep gorges and verdant valleys. Cuts into the earth reveal a rust red soil. The unrolling scenery is picture postcard perfect, though hard to photograph from a van zooming along at 70mph.
About an hour from Shaoguan, there is trouble ahead. The road is closed. We are directed off an exit ramp. Now we are going to be really late. Daniel gets on his cell phone to the SWI director. She isn’t in Shaoguan, but on her way back from Hunan. She tells him to take us to lunch and she will join us if she can, or we meet at the SWI at 2:30. Our driver, Mr. Lee, finds out that there is roadwork going on. There is a very liaise faire attitude about this. The detour is not marked, and you had better know where you are going. Luckily Mr. Lee knows this trip and we are off into real rural China.
Now the distant glimpses are up close and real people go through their daily lives as we bounce by. Dirt poor is an accurate statement. Many of the buildings we see have an open side and dirt floors. People squat or sit on low stools in rutted muddy yards. Women in bright polo shirts tote baskets slung on poles. Except for the clothing and the omnipresent scooters, not much has changed in thousands of years. Paving is limited to the main road way. The traditional homes are low slung one-story buildings of brick or rammed earth, with tile roofs, one room deep. Many appear to be crumbling. Fixing broken windows or shutters does not seem to be a priority. There are no lawns or flowers. We get an overwhelming impression of hardship. I think of the photos of depression era rural poverty in the US, and they seem luxurious by comparison to much of what we are seeing. Rural poverty in China is several circles of hell down from our definition. And clearly China needs their equivalent of the crying Indian anti-litter campaign, as thousands of flimsy plastic bags in a rainbow of colors are discard along the roadway, loaded with god knows what.
There are some signs of success. New homes are dotted about, uniformly three story cubes of glazed white or yellow brick, with a tiny decorative mansard of tile roof that reads more Spanish than Chinese. A new car is pulled into a run down farmyard. A farmer speeds past on a new scooter, his tanned and deep lined face topped by a shiny bright orange helmet.
We take a bathroom break by a Buddhist temple, the Nanhua Si (Southern Flower Temple) founded in 502 AD, at the Vege Tarian restaurant next door. The temple entrance is marked by an elegant stone triple archway and a long walkway surrounded by manicured grounds. Daniel tells us that the Red Guard tried to destroy it but were stopped by local farmers, so even if it’s not in their own yards, there is an appreciation for beauty. We stretch our legs for a few minutes, but there is no time to visit so we resume our voyage. Heavy truck traffic clogs the road and we dodge and weave. Passing on any side seems to be acceptable. Most of the vehicles we see now are scooters or mini trucks, about one step up from a golf cart, though not quite as big
Inside the van it is increasingly noisy as Lian bounces about demanding snacks or retrieved toys with loud exclamations. Daniel says she is saying something, but he can’t understand, perhaps it’s a local dialect from HanZhong. Lela sits in the back with me, wanting to play her princess or baby games one after the other. I finally tell her we need to look at where we are. We talk a little about what will happen at the SWI and I tell her I will carry her the whole time if that is what she needs. She says she does need it. Our little pumpkin is being brave, though she is afraid of her unknown past.
We are coming to an area where urban residents come to vacation at hot springs or to shoot rapids. A modern townhouse style hot springs resort development is plunked down incongruously amid the surrounding rustic squalor. The Shaoguan region is regarded as one of the cradles of the human race in China. Bones dated as early as 129,000 years old were discovered in a nearby cave, Shizi Yan, and named Qujiang Maba man.
We finally reach the suburbs of Shaoguan. Children are getting out of school for lunch, and dozens roll by on bikes, dressed in school uniforms of blue and white tracksuits.
We reach a street alongside a wide river in an urban area. I recognize the view towards a bridge that I’ve seen on the internet. We are in Shaoguan. Shaoguan is built on a peninsula between the confluence of two rivers that create a third – the Beijiang (North), one of the main tributaries of the Pearl River, and up into the surrounding mountainsides. It has had a long history of military importance as the rivers cut a pass through the mountains between Guangdong and northern China.
We pull into a restaurant. The restaurant name translates roughly as Wineshop Best Seafood restaurant. Apparently it is part of a chain from Macau. We are escorted to a luxurious private room on the second floor. A floor to ceiling sheet of plate glass facing the riverside lightens the 9-foot high dark wood and brocade covered walls. In addition to the expected round table, set with blue glass plates and apricot napkins, a small seating area of brocade stools and a side table is in the corner and the room features a private toilet hidden behind a concealed door. Our presence seems to require half the wait staff. Daniel confers with us on our preferences and then with the head waitress. Mr. Lee puts in his two cents. We end up with spicy shrimp meant to be eaten shell and all, a creamy tofu in egg sauce, delicious sautéed local vegetables – some kind of bok choy, fried vermicelli noodles, and pork dim sum, with coconut flavored gel cakes and fresh fruit for dessert. After much discussion, Lela gets fresh squeezed apple juice. It is delicious, but not what she is used to, so rejected. She cannot sit still or eat. She wanders the room and takes one of the warm washcloths we had been brought and starts to scrub the glass top of a corner table to try and calm her nerves She is being Cinderella before the ball, an apt metaphor. When she moves onto the plate glass window we have to tell her to stop.
After a leisurely meal we are on our way to the SWI. The rain has stopped while we were eating. Daniel and Mr. Lee consult over a map. We describe the surroundings of the SWI that we have seen in pictures, a 9 story modern pink building in a courtyard, facing a mountain view. After a few detours and stops for directions, we swing onto a traffic cirlce that has been curbed but not paved, then jolting down a half paved track and up a steep drive. Ahead is the building we’ve seen in photos. We are here. This is where Lela spent the first year of her life.
We clamber out bearing bags of gifts, children’s clothing, gifts for the Ayis (translates as Auntie) of nail polish and deodorant (recommended by Love Without Boundaries, so I hope no one is offended) candies and separate bags for the director and assistant director. We are quickly escorted up the elevator to the top floor. The lower floors are a senior citizen home. We are met by the assistant director, the director is still not back.
Though we’ve seen pictures, it is sparer and smaller than I expected. We have arrived at nap time and there are only a few Ayis, as the rest don’t come until 3pm. The crib quilts are rolled up for the summer and the children sleep on bare boards. But there are good changes. Lela was never out of her crib, but thanks to Half the Sky training, the babies now get tummy time on bright colored mats. The rows and rows of cribs we saw in pictures from 2 years ago are dwindled to a few – there are only about 20 children now, mostly special needs. The assistant director explains through Daniel that domestic adoption quickly takes most of the healthy infants. The area is relatively more prosperous. She says also that birth control is being strictly monitored, with IUD’s being installed in all married woman and checked every three months, so there are less accidental babies. This mirrors what the Chinese Central Adoption Agency has been saying about the slow down in referring non-special needs children.
Lela has allowed me to transfer her to Jamie. Lian, who I had been concerned would perhaps feel she was being brought back, is oblivious. This place is so different from her SWI there is no connection and she hangs on to Jamie’s pants leg or toddles over to inspect some of the kids. I snap pictures of the children, including two new babies with clefts. The view out the window is a mountain across a steep but densely built up valley. This is real deja vu. We’ve seen photos like pieces of a jig saw puzzle, but now it is all forming a complete picture.
The layout is central lobby with the elevator and two small room for isolating sick or new children, an open air exercise area to one side and the largest room with cribs on one side and the larger portion now with mats and some toys.
Lela buries her head in my shoulder when the director attempts to talk to her. When we venture out on to the open roof area and I try and put her down, she clings and whispers, "You promised you would carry me the whole time." I am beginning to regret not adding clauses, like, "except if I am also trying to record this for your future information and carrying two bags." But this is painful for her. This is confronting the unknown, a place with no conscious memories but a chain on her. This is the past that divides her from us. She would be happiest if it was only a bad fairy tale. But it is real and unescapable. Lela has nightmares about monsters that snatch her from her bed and take her back to China. Her deepest fears about this trip were being left behind. We are hoping that confronting the reality and returning home will help her. Finally she begins to relax. The asst. director gives both girls an apple. Then she and another nanny, who we recognize from our adoption photos as the one who carried Lela, present Lela with several children’s books. They say they do remember her, and when asked by Jamie if she looks the way they imagined, reply "she’s very tall."
Three o’clock and more nannies arrive. The children are taken to the exercise area and share a banana as a snack. Our guide is champing at the bit to get going as we are running very late. We visit the toilet, a squatty potty down a half flight of steps and get a glimpse into the senior home a very familiar sight – a group in bathrobes watching TV. Outside Lela is relieved and cheerful. We visit the small garden in the courtyard where her referral pictures were taken, take pictures of the building and then into the van. I realize I have forgotten to ask to see her original paperwork.
The asst. director will accompany us to visit Lela’s finding spot. Every child in China’s Social Welfare Institutions has a finding spot – a place and time where the course of their lives altered. For the ones who are adopted internationally, it was the beginning of gaining a new family but losing their culture. We hurry through Shaoguan’s busy streets for a few minutes and then stop in the middle of a block on a bustling four-lane road. A steep driveway leads up to a building a level above the street. This is the spot, no actually up above. But there is a guard. An animated discussion and we are allowed to walk up. But it’s all changed - a new building has been built on the spot. Lela poses without any sense of recognition, and it doesn’t seem to bother her. The asst. director points out a building across the street and tells us it is a maternity hospital for women and children. If Lela ever decides to seek her past, this will be a starting point. Then we go to visit the finding spot of Lela’s SWI sister, Raeghan. I think we are returning to the SWI when the van stops, the asst. director gets out to take a bus? back. That’s it. We head back out of town. The highway is open going south. As we speed through the mountains and many tunnels, the darkening sky looses a heavy rain, and Lela finally relaxes and curls up to sleep on the seat next to me.

One Month

A month ago we were sitting in the notary office in Xian, waiting and waiting for our daughter Lian. The two little boys from our travel group had met their families and were getting to know them. Almost two hours later at 7pm, a woman appeared in the door holding a little girl dressed in yellow. Since it was so late, we had to rush off to get our visa pictures and poor Lian was plopped into the stroller without much ado or introduction. That was how we became a family of four.
A lot can happen in a month. China now seems like a dream, except for the little person who will be demanding to be fed in a few hours.
After our Consulate appointment in Guangzhou on September 25, an intimate mob scene of 60 families having adoptions finalized, we went immediately to the nearby train station to go to Hong Kong. And there we sat for two hours in a barren waiting room. We sent emissaries in search of food and drink, with little to be found. When our train was called we were allowed to move to a new waiting room – with shops and food - for about 15 minutes. Our train left at 7 and we rolled into Hong Kong after 9pm. Luckily there is a welcome kiosk at the train station where we able to change our RMB for Hong Kong dollars and find out where to get a cab. The voucher for our hotel managed to vanish during the 10 minute cab ride, but we got checked in, got the cot exchanged for a crib, bathed and changed the girls. Jamie went out for a walk down to the harbor.
When he got back, Lela was still awake so I dressed her and took her out with me. It turned out to be one of the most magical moments in our whole trip. We walked the 3 blocks down to the harbor and the Star Ferry terminal along a street like 5th Avenue – expensive shops and hotels. At the harbor edge is a large plaza looking out across the water. It was the night after the Autumn Moon Festival and the full moon shone down from the highest arch of the sky. The buildings all around and ringing the far shore were lit up colored lights and signs. For the Festival a huge dragon lantern writhed across the plaza, representing the story of the10 brothers (AKA the 5 or 7 brothers, a popular folk tale) combined with the dragon. (http://www.xs2china.com/en/events/dragon_dance_by_the_ten_brothers.1161.html ) I remembered one of Lela’s favorite story books, Chopsticks, (http://www.amazon.com/Chopsticks-Jon-Berkeley/dp/0375833099/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-7650903-6054236?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1192532262&sr=1-1) and it was brought magically to life by the water lapping at the dock, glittering lights, ferries plying back and forth, and the full moon waiting for the magic music to set the dragon free to fly. Our wake up call came too early, at 6am. We ended our 12 hours in Hong Kong with a ride to the airport on sunny, scenic amazingly quiet highways – Hong Kong wakes up late, rush hour doesn’t start until after 7:30.
What can you say about 15 hours in an airplane with 2 small kids, except perhaps, ARGHHHHHHH. But we survived. Going back you get that strange twist to your biological clock of leaving Hong Kong at 10am, flying 15 hours and arriving in NJ at 2pm – on the same day. My dear friend, Donna Haggerty, took half a day off to meet us at the airport, so Lian’s first minutes as a US citizen were recorded when we staggered out of customs with a mile high luggage cart. The drive home, a delightful foray into NYC traffic at the beginning of rush hour was fairly uneventful, since Jamie did not fall asleep at the wheel. Our dog, Sally (no, we did not pick that name, she was a rescue dog) was ecstatic to see us. Lian was petrified of her, we’d been warned in China that she was afraid of animals, and screamed LOUDLY as long as poor Sally - who was trying to be friendly - was in sight. Grandma Pines and Aunt Christy brought us pizza, then we just went to bed. We didn’t even unpack the car. And then woke up about 4am.
Lian went to the pediatrician’s the next morning for a check up. Poking and prodding do not make her happy but Lela cried even more at the prospect that she too might have to see the doctor. Lots of test to do, lots more doctors to see, starting fresh on Monday morning – the audiologist, the ENT, the cleft team, the oral surgeon. It’s good news, bad news. Lian has hearing loss from fluid in her ears, not unexpected for a cleft kid – but it looks like there’s no nerve damage, so ear tubes should set her right. Her palate repair in China was not a great job and she will need more work – but it can’t be done until next spring when the first surgery is completely healed. She needs a tooth pulled and a little adjustment to her nose, so the plastic surgeon, Dr. Gallagher, wants to do all three procedures at the same time so Lian will only have to go under once. I spent a long time on the phone with our insurance carrier, ah the joys of bureaucracy.
So how’s it been going? Three weeks of immersion therapy with the pets has worked. Lian has gone from shrieking in terror at the glimpse of a tail to handing down food into the waiting maw at dinner. She is picking up some English, despite her hearing issues and short palate, and also sign language, so we are communicating. First sign – more – amazing how all kids grasp that abstract concept immediately. She has figured out the routine, such as it is. She loved to brush her teeth, use the potty! flush the toilet ( I have to keep the powder room shut or our water bill will be out of sight) bath time, playing tea party, and took to dress up high heels in a flash, so we now have princess #2 clomping around the house. She likes to go shopping. She loves to eat, and now we’ve got two kids that eat broccoli and ask for more. She went wading hesitantly for the first time and the second time around got totally soaked. Loves the slides and swings at the park. She has gone to Sunday School nursery, children’s library and toddler music class and liked it all. She knows who mama and papa are and is attaching very well. She’s happy and bright with a big belly laugh and an ability to snuggle right into your heart. And she is actually doing better than Lela at adjusting.
Lela is finding that 24/7 sharing is tough. Having all your stuff (except the princess stuff and whatever she can cram on her bed, which now has very little space left for sleeping) including your room go up for grabs is tough. Getting a little sis who was the youngest of a family group of 5 and knows how to make sure she gets her fair share is tough. Sharing lap time is tough. Last night Lela asked why we couldn’t send her back. I reminded her that we had promised to be Lian’s forever family, just like we promised to be hers. We are giving Lela special quality time on the weekends. We are reading every book in the library on sibling rivalry. But there are those moments when there’s a glimpse of the future. Something to hold on to when the volume is past OSHA safety levels and we are wondering what on earth we were thinking. A surprise warm day in a week of chill, down to the beach and together they built a huge soggy sand castle at the edge of the high tide. Two princesses having tea attired in ballet dresses, aka old slips. A pack of two chasing and tackling papa at the park. A tiny hint of the girls and women we will get to know.

We're Back

We rolled into town Thursday pm after a long, loong flight from Hong Kong, 15.5 hours to be exact. Donna Haggerty met us at the airport, bless her and hung with me and the girls while Jamie retrieved the car from long term parking.
The flight was about what you would expect, 15 hours crammed into a tin can in tiny seats with two children and a variety of food stuff smeared or crumbled artistically about. Our travel agent's strategy (David Tam, Tam Travel in Chinatown) of booking seats A C D F payed off - we had two rows and could stretch out, at least the girls could - they both got nice naps on the plane. Jamie and I managed a few scattered minutes of snoozing.
A word of warning about the Hong Kong airport. After we had cleared inspection, I went and bought juice and water - and it was confiscated at the door of the airplane. You can take on a baby bottle so at least Lian had her nuby cup, but Lela was very thirsty.
Continental has a weird idea of child friendly meals. Their dinner was a spicy chicken patty with mashed potatoes, the snack a ham and tomato sandwich, served mouth scalding hot. Breakfast was closer to the mark with french toast. Luckily we were still toting 10 pounds of snacks, so they had cheese crackers and dried fruit as back up.
Off we flew into yesterday, backwards in time. We flew into the night over the Pacific, saw the mountains of Alaska bathed in the light of the still almost full moon and welcomed the sun somewhere over Canada. Then plunging down to New Jersey. We had to go through the new immigrant line with three other families that had adopted. Unlike our experience at JFK with Lela, they made an attempt to get us into quick lines and out smoothly. Baggage all showed up promptly and we shelled out the $3 for a cart to push it 500 feet - all through China, baggage carts are free. There was Donna waiting with a big welcome sign and camera, so we have an official photo of Lian becoming a citizen. The drive from NJ to LI was mercifully short, since it can be a 3+ hour epic depending on traffic. Lian wasn't crazy about the car seat but tolerated it.
They were both asleep when we pulled in to the driveway. I went in to calm down the dog and greet the cats since we'd been told Lian was afraid of animals. Sure enough, her first glimpse of them she screamed bloody murder. She seems less scared of the cats - who are totally uninterested in her, but the poor dog keeps trying to be friendly and getting locked in the kitchen for her efforts. It also seems better if one of us is holding her too. Hopefully this will pass quickly. It's going to be immersion shock therapy.

More pictures !

Papa and girls eating !

Lian loving her medical exam !

Thank goodness for my Papa !

Lela enjoying time with our wonderful guide !

Dim sum anyone ?


We love to eat !

Spending time with Papa !

Where to now Mommy ?

Sleeping beauties !

Isn't she adorable ?

Papa with Lian and Lela !

Decoration ?

Victory hotel lobby !

Night time fun with Papa !

More food with Papa !

Beautiful China !

THANK YOU !

We are blocked from our blog in China, so our good friend, Charlotte, is updating the blog for us. THANK YOU! We traveled with Charlotte when we adopted Lela. Her daughter, Raeghan, is only one day younger than Lela and they are SWI sisters.


Thanks for all your comments. We can read them via anonymouse.org, but can't reply.

Keep on commenting, we love to hear from you !!!!!

9/22/07 ~ Careful what you wish for !

9/22/07 Careful what you wish for
Our first day in Guangzhou is Lian’s medical, paperwork and housekeeping. Everyone except me sleeps late. We have to bathe the girls as they are coated in a glue composed of everything they ate the previous day of travel. Downstairs, breakfast at the Victory is not the sensory overload of the Sofitel, but there is still plenty to select from. We rush back upstairs and assemble the paperwork and money we will need for the medical. This is not for Lian’s benefit – it is a modern day Ellis Island, to exclude the sick. We are a special needs group, so all our children have some major issue, though many are repaired. It isn’t Lian’s cleft we’re worried about, since we’re already approved for that, it’s her snotty nose and rattley chest. Our guide when we adopted Lela had drilled us that no matter if your child is dripping green slime, you say they are healthy.
As usual we are the last ones downstairs to join the group. There are 10 CHI families in town, half at the White Swan, half at the Victory – the cheapskates and second timers, we are both. Our guide, Connie, is wearing a charcoal chiffon baby doll dress with jeweled neckline today. I am wearing my last clean T-shirt and baggy shorts. We walk the block toward the medical clinic. But first we turn into a building to get the children’s US visa pictures. The photographer seems to be set up in an apartment hall way, as at one point a man with a bike loaded with leeks and other produce works his way through the crowd. We can’t get Lian to crack a smile.
Then on to the clinic. We crowd ourselves, strollers, crabby children and siblings in to an L shaped waiting closet. After an interminable 20 minutes or so, it is our turn. We know that drill. There are three stations. The medical is pretty cursory. First a physical exam, where the doctor looks into Lian’s mouth, eyes, nose. This is not received well, though she submits, and crying makes seeing her mouth easier. Taking off the shorts and diaper is accompanied by much wailing, but her backside full of Mongolian spots http://www.fwcc.org/mongolianspot.htm (Lian’s backside looks like this only more so) doesn’t phase a Chinese Dr. Then the weight and height, and on to the hearing test, which consists of seeing if she will turn to look at a squeaky toy.
Meanwhile, Lela is sitting quietly in the central area diligently working on her fairy sticker book and trying to pretend there are no doctors around. Connie sits and chats with her and a little girl about her age watches fascinated with the book. Between appointments, Lian decides to be the life of the party and commandeers a box of toys meant to occupy waiting children. She selects a Minnie Mouse doll that she uses to flirt with Jamie. She knows she’s being cute, as she will pause and look with a big grin to see if he is watching her.
On the way back to the hotel, I try and poke my nose into a shop but Lela has had it, and even the promise of princessy dresses fails to allure. She slumps whinely in the stroller. Lian is full of beans though, quickly spots a pile of rattles and attempts to drag them through the back of a shelf. We do a quick turn around in the hotel. We pile the mound of dirty laundry on the bed, do triage – we’ve only got 6 more days, then head out with about 40 pounds of laundry. First we hit the Beatrice friendship store, think 7-11 attached to a gift shop, for diapers, since we are down to the good US ones I am hoarding for the return flight. I had bought Huggies in Xi’an, my usual brand at home, but we had several leaks so back to the blue Pampers which I know from previous experience are fine. We stop at the first laundry we come to, Helen’s. They promise us a 35% discount, pick up at 1:30 tomorrow. We now have 30 minutes for lunch before meeting Connie for more paperwork, so we head to the deli at the White Swan. It faces onto the street and has a small cafe table seating areas outside. The menu is rapidly changing, about every 15 minutes brings a new selection, and we had imagined on our last trip that is was the leftover food coming out of the hotel restaurants. I get a German cold cut sandwich, which is a bun with a cold cuts wrapped around a pickle, cheese sandwich, apple pastry, and noodles with spinach. Lela has spotted the ice cream freezer right off the bat. Outside it is breezy and we battle to keep the flimsy paper plates from flying, but manage to eat. Lela gets her ice cream, strawberry. I try mango and Jamie has ginger. There is also a purplish taro flavor and champagne grape. Lian doesn't get one this time as she tends to wear her food, and we can still fool her, just make yucky faces when she points to the cups.
In the White Swan we take the elevator up to Connie’s room to do our last paperwork marathon. There is a strong sense of deja vu, not surprising, because we have done this before, but then we were the ones with a tiny baby in a stroller of sling. Last time Jamie did the paper work, but now he is the favored parent so I am stuck with it. He has to sign one paper then he and the girls are free to go. (Jamie reports that they went down to the WS playroom, which has very few toys in it now, where Lela found a compatriot and Lian rampaged. Then they strolled around a bit, paused briefly at the small playground – but no swings, Lela’s preference, so she only went down the slide a few times, back to the room and up to the roof top pool.) I am sitting on a bed with 9 other parents crammed into the room, about a 50/50 mix of boys and girls. We go through the remaining forms for the Consulate line by line. We get very punchy. Connie tells us we owe her a drink. It is almost 5 when we finish, but I have brought everything I needed and my forms and new bills get the Connie nod of approval. Even the US Consulate requires crisp new bills, I guess they don’t trust us. I wander back to the room through the familiar streets and muggy air. The room is empty. Where could they still be? Finally I realize that I am looking at their clothes and undies on the bed, and it’s unlikely they went out nude, AH HA the pool. I change and take the elevator to 9. The pool is on the roof top with a staggering view of the city. It’s breezy enough to feel cool. Jamie has Lela in a life preserver and is wearing Lian who is enjoying her first pool time, splashing and laughing (and I have not brought up the camera.) We have the roof to ourselves. After I have a few minutes in the pool, Lela announces she is freezing and clambers out. She wants to “esersize” and tugs at a door up a low platform.
Inside is a room full of exercise equipment that looks like it was picked up at garage sales. They even have a vibrating belt, which brings to mind rows of women in black leotards with cellulite and buttocks jiggling wildly. Lela and Lian are intrigued by the rowing machine, the one thing they can manage. The sun is setting into the haze, a glowing peach as we return to our room - which has quickly deteriorated. Lian has already stopped trying to tidy up, and is leaving her toys strewn about like the rest of the slobs she is now joined with. We stuff the girls into clothes, not a two minute process since they tend to sprint away after each article is applied, and go looking for food. Many of the restaurants we remember are closed and have become gift shops. We end up getting take out at the WS deli again. Back at the hotel we create a dining room with the two club chairs, desk chair and an end table. It’s messy meal but filling. Once you give Lian some food, it may not be removed or she wails, so we have learned to be careful with portion control.
Remember that we were concerned about her not talking? Well be careful what you wish for. She is chatting away, at top volume. We have no idea what she is saying, though it frequently features a loud “MA” which Jamie (who did take a Mandarin class) says can mean horse, mama or scolding depending on the tone. The tone sounds like scolding to me, and it’s blah, blah, blah all the time. The development report described her as a quiet gentle girl. HAH. Clearly the real Lian has just been waiting to come out. She is also trying out hitting and throwing things too, which we are trying to squelch. Jamie says “Boo How” (that’s phonetic spelling, not pinyan) meaning not good, and Lela quickly takes up the refrain, “Tell her boo how!”

Last leg ~ 9/21/07

9/21/07 Last Leg
We are going to Guangzhou tonight. Check out is noon. Jamie thinks it will be easy, I think it will take most of the morning – guess who is right. We are now faced with internal travel weight limits, 44 lbs per checked bag, vs. the 50 lbs we were darn close to on our international flight. But we have shed some donations to the orphanage and by making our red carry-on weigh 35 pounds, we manage. It is now 11, enough time for a quick stroll but not much else. We go to the small park behind the hotel and break out the bubbles. Lela has a good time, but Lian doesn’t seem to get it. We also spot a new bird, a flicker/thrasher type with a long curved beak and equally long crest, giving a hammer-head appearance. (We are active with Audubon, but birding on an adoption trip is dicey at best. Still, it’s a life bird, whatever it is – we’ll look it up at home.)
Back to the room, consigning our pile of luggage to the bell hop and down to check out. I cash the last travelers check knowing it would be a multi-hour process in Guangzhou. The three families have decided we’ll do a late lunch by the Bell Tower, hoping we can find the recommended dim sum restaurant. First the Littles need a stroller so it’s back to the supermarket in a series of cabs. They have some kind of misadventure with the bill, but Sherry finally goes up and gets it straightened out. We walk to the restaurant, but now most of the children are seated at least. It is a huge multi floor establishment. We are seated at a large round table with the ubiquitous lazy susan. Plates of sautйed vegetables, spicy lamb skewers, curry, and crisp cucumber slices twirl around. We have a meat eater, Lian demands a spicy lamb skewer (via emphatic pointing) and gnaws on it through out lunch. Steamer after steamer of dumplings arrive. The chicken and duck are formed to look like birds. There are the usual pork, vegetable and shrimp, and unusual; walnut and one that tastes just like peanut butter and honey. The waitresses keep shuffling the dumplings into one steamer as new plates arrive, making keeping track of the contents like following a shell game. The finale is soup with miniature dumplings, cooked on a flaming burner at the table, though none of us can eat anything more. The waitress dishes it out and tells us that the number of dumplings in your bowl reflects what kind of luck you are going to have. I get one. We leave the table a shambles and head out for the plaza, intending to explore the Muslim Quarter. Lela and Will, the Littles 5-year-old have now hit it off. They jointly clamor for kites and water pets, a squishy ball that flattens out and resumes shape when tossed on a smooth surface. They are tossed on the sidewalk and quickly develop leaks. Sherry gets a phone call and looks panicked. She needs to go to pick up our children’s passports – but they want to see our paperwork, which is in the checked luggage. We end up all rushing back to the hotel, where we take over the lobby. Lela and Will invent games, discuss scary movies, and terrorize the staff. The bus arrives at 4:30 and is piled high with our luggage. Sherry arrives with the passports – the paperwork request was nothing, just because Lian is not from Xi’an. We all pile in and off to the airport. Once we clear the city the highway is open and we get there in under an hour. Sherry masterminds our check in and it goes smoothly – and we’ve managed our weight limit. But our strollers are checked here. In the next line a very loud altercation is going on. Security runs our carry on twice due to a mysterious round object, and we are off to the gate.
We prove to be a traveling side show, with 6 adults, blond teen and 5-year-old boys, 2 Chinese boys, and 2 Chinese girls. People are standing in their seats to look at us, clearly working hard to assign children to parents. We visit the airport gift and snack shop – you can buy same sets of the Terra –cotta warriors sets for 30 and 40 RMB, so wait until you’re past the check in. Mn’M’s for Lela and a much needed Coke for Moi. Jack finds chocolate Terra-cotta warriors. A huge mob is waiting by the gate, clearly they don’t check in by rows – but we do have assigned seats at least. 7:30 comes and goes. Finally at 8 we board, shoving our way through the crowd. They take away our suitcase carry-ons, leaving us backpacks and purses. Oh well. I am in a row of three between Lela and Lian. Jamie, lucky SOB, is across the aisle. We lift off only an hour late – our 9:20 arrival is now 10 something. As we lift off we can make out the rectangle of the city wall, lit up at night. For a short flight they serve a full dinner, noodles and veg. with chicken, which I have to pick our for Lela, rounded out with pickled tomatoes? roll, sponge cake, and cherry tomatoes. Lian as usual, eats with gusto. Trying to manage three trays and demands on both side means I don’t eat much. Lian is playing with her bag of toys, but unhappy that the tiny fan has quit working. Lift off doesn’t bother her, but she starts to cry on decent. Luckily Michelle one row ahead has ear numbing drops, which work fast. Lela falls asleep ten minutes before arrival as is her custom. We are all the last off the plane. Lela announces she has to go, and facing a quarter mile of walk ways with no WC signs visible, I take her behind a kiosk. Someone will have to mop it up. We claim our many bags and wheel out.
No one appears to be waiting until a very stylish woman approaches. It is Connie our new guide. Clutching a sign is clearly beneath her. She has been described as a high-heeled woman and even so I am not prepared for her splendor. Correct garb for picking up grubby adopters at the airport at night is full make up, subtly highlighted curls, flowing white pants and jeweled top, with strappy heels. She effortlessly snags a family that came in on another flight and shepherds us to the bus. On board we get a quick run down of the week’s line up, and speed into Guangzhou. The Victory is the first stop, so we and the Littles extract ourselves, get checked in and head up. Our room it a T shape and has two slightly bigger than twin bed, a roll away cot and crib, leaving not a lot of floor space. Jutting off the bedroom is a small room with desk and chairs. By the time we are settled snug in our beds (which are soft, unlike the White Swan which for a luxury hotel has beds like rocks) it is midnight.

On our own 9/20/07

9/20/07 On our own
Today Sherry is taking the other families to tour their SWI about an hour away. We could go, but we have really pushed the girls, so we think a quieter day is in order. We decide to see the city wall on our own. We get a cab to the South wall, which Sherry has told us is the nicest section, no problem. Looking up at the imposing walls, we realize we neglected to ask how you get up on top. We walk through the gate and wander the park between the wall and surrounding canal. No stairs in sight. We do attract a group of ladies, who are fascinated with the girls, but no speaka da English. I begin to understand the plight of foreign tourists in the US. We back track and manage through gestures to ask and have conveyed that we somehow have to make our way across 4 lanes of speeding traffic to the base of the gate tower. We see a large group of tourists crossing and meet them half way to use as blockers. A group of Chinese pedestrians decide to use our kids as blockers so we pass in a large mob, effectively slowing traffic close to a stop.
This is the right place. We can buy 20 or 40 Yuan tickets. We opt for the 40’s though we have no idea what perks this offers, it’s all in Chinese.
The wall is one of the few intact left in China. It forms a 9-mile rectangle, built of rammed earth, quick lime and glutinous rice, which must be stickier than I thought, rising 39 feet high and 59 feet thick. We enter through a tunnel into an inner courtyard, and climb the step to the top, dragging the stroller behind. The view is amazing, with the skyscrapers of modern Xi’an surrounding the broad skywalk of the wall and its frequent guard towers. You can rent a bike to tour the wall or ride a jitney. We sit in the shade of the south gate tower and eat lunch. It now houses, surprise, a gift shop. Jamie and I take turns circling the area to look around. I go to the second floor of the guard tower. Looking down I hear loud wails. Jamie has told Lela no sucker if she doesn’t eat her sandwich. As I return I hear more loud wails. Now he has tried to pry a bag of trail mix out of Lian’s hands. We decide to walk down to the next guard tower. The jitney service is there, but we fail to negotiate a price that doesn’t feel like highway robbery (they want 80 RMB for a one way trip to the East gate and our cab to the wall only cost 8 RMB) and pack it in. Grabbing a cab back is easy. Lian gets her nap and Lela gets pool time.
Jamie has found a side street near the hotel with many restaurants, so we decide to try that. There are several restaurants, but one is packed, clearly the place to be. We enter and are seated, and presented with a menu. No pictures, no translation. OK. They assign us the head waitress, who is trying hard but doesn’t speak English. I finally tow her around the restaurant pointing at plates. We manage to convey with the help of arm waving and our restaurant cheat sheet that we want, but she finally cuts of off indicating that is enough food.
What arrives is delicious – a plate of huge broiled shrimp, vegetable dumplings (2 plates, since I must have pointed twice), a salad of crisp julienned vegetable, celery? in a wine vinegar dressing, noodles with a dark sauce – might be beans, and a very spicy but fabulous eggplant dish. We acquire a box of strawberry nectar for the girls and beer and tea for us. Lian shovels in everything but the eggplant, wielding her chopsticks with a strange at the end grip that seems to work for her. Lela eats shrimp and noodles, and even ventures a dumpling. My hands are orange from peeling shrimp. Lela starts to fade and goes to sit slumped in the stroller. The bill is a staggering 140 RMB, a little less than $20 bucks. Best meal in China so far.

Speed Touring Xi'an

Since we’re already in Guangzhou, I am waaay behind in my travel diarrhea, not to mention details are beginning to grow dim as this is now several days ago, so we whiz quickly through the highlights of Xi’an, or as quickly as I can force myself to edit.

9/19/07 Speed Touring Xi’an - Great Mosque & Muslim Quarter, Bell & Drum Towers, and Great Goose Pagoda.
First order of the day is a paperwork session. Rich, Howie and I hustle after Sherry to a another “close by” building, the notary office. Here we check the official adoption documents before they are finalized. Good thing we do. I find a lot of typos, though if it were me writing documents in Chinese it would probably be worse. I have been turned into “Ennifer” at one spot, Lian has become Lana Rasmusen, the last child to be adopted, and left lingering at the police station after she was found from April 1 to the 11th. Sherry reviews every comma and makes sure it is all correct. Then we head back to the hotel. She will return to pick us up at 11:30.
It is only the Pines touring today, the other families not being such gluttons for punishment. The driver drops us off “near” our destination. The Great Mosque is reached by winding through the narrow souvenir packed alleys of the Muslim Quarter. Since every stall has approximately the same tourist goods, it gets a little numbing and we zip through (besides our luggage is probably overweight for our flight to Guangzhou already, we can’t really afford to buy much.) Thank God that Sherry knows where she is going, since there are no directive signs I can make out.
The Mosque and Muslim quarter are remnants from the days when Xi’an was the beginning of the Silk Road to the Middle East. That two way traffic brought Muslims to China. Sherry told us the actual Muslim population is probably less than 100, but they receive special tax exemptions from the government. Seems to be a little resentment there. Then a sudden transition to open sky and a long series of courtyard leading to a still active prayer room. Men wearing white caps and traditional long dark jackets lounge and smoke near the purification rooms. Then we plunge back through more alleys and out into a fruit market and open air. A huge structure confronts us, the Drum Tower. You can go up, but apparently we’re not going to, so we look and begin a long hike to the Bell Tower now located at the other end of a long shopping plaza, and surrounded by a four lane traffic circle. Vendors are hawking long kites, strings of 20 or more tiny kites, and have them sailing above the plaza and two Towers. We have to reach it through the subway underpass (more steps) since the traffic would be sure death. Here we do climb. You can ring the huge bronze bell on the first level – for 10 yuan. When we get to the top, which besides a commanding four way view of modern Xi’an, houses a beautiful collection of pottery and calligraphy, Lela announces she has to go. We rush back down only to find the nearest WC is back in the subway, so I herd her into a corner and whip on a pair of pullups, there being no place to allow her to go ala Chinese child style, IE slinging her rear end over a curb or some greenery, which we have had to do a few times. Hey, when you’re in China.....and a lot better than a child with dripping undies sitting on your lap.
Sherry announces time for lunch. As we drive to a restaurant Lian falls asleep. I carefully carry her in and waitresses scurry to make a bed out of pushed together chairs, so of course she wakes up the moment I put her down. When we are seated and handed picture menus, Sherry turns to head out. We tell Sherry we need translation, that photos of unidentified bits in a bowl are not adequate. We manage to order noodles, a tofu soup, sautйed veggies, rice and I splurge for spare ribs. It is way too much food, but we make a valiant effort, at least Jamie, Lian and I do. Lela has apparently decided she can survive China on goldfish, ice cream, suckers, and a few bites of plain noodles.
The Great Goose Pagoda, to differentiate it from the Little Goose Pagoda, is a farther ride just outside the city walls. It is part of an active Buddhist temple complex, originally built in 652AD, though it and all the other buildings have been rebuilt many times according to Sherry, who does know her local history. There are men working on white marble railings as we enter. Beautiful gardens with small shrines surround the pagoda. The pagoda is a rather austere brick structure, 210 feet high, built to store the library of sutras (religious scriptures) brought back from India by the monk Xuanzang. His actual 17 year pilgrimage to India, study of Buddhism and return with many artifacts and sutras is the basis for the famous epic, Journey to the West. Pictorial representations of his journey fill the walls of two side buildings. The name, Great Goose Pagoda, comes from a story of the conversion of a sect of meat eating monks to vegetarianism. It seems that after praying for food, a large goose fell from the air at their feet, and they took this to mean that the god was sacrificing himself for their benefit and were ashamed at their gluttony. All this is very interesting, but we have seen too much for one day. The girls are falling down on their feet. We take them back to the hotel, feed them peanut butter sandwiches and put them to bed and pass out ourselves.
By the way, when I say pass out, that is exactly what I mean. If you do not have children or sleep like a baby while traveling, then you may have never reached the advanced state of sleep deprivation that would qualify as cruel and inhumane if inflicted on a prisoner of war. This is where you are one minute reading a bedtime story and the next swirling in a nether world of fast action dreams, only to snap out of it to find yourself telling your child something like, “the basis for the principals of religion are esoteric” and receiving a baffled look as you should be reading about Cinderella, who rarely discusses religious philosophy.

Terra-cotta warriors

9/18/07 Terra-cotta Warriors
Assemble at quarter to nine for the Terra-cotta warriors, Sherry told us. Since I have been up since four and Jamie likewise, that shouldn’t be a problem. The sleeping beauties still snooze peacefully, time to put an end to that. I put Lian in a little sundress, and me too, me too Lela. We have leisurely breakfast. Lian can manage spoon and fork just fine, but the restaurant has chosen huge heavy utensils. We finally snag some tea spoons for her. We’re ready at 8:45 and not last for once. Aboard the bus, Sherry tells us a bit about the site. It was built by the first Emperor of China, Qin, who unified the six countries. He also began construction of the Great Wall. Construction of the tomb took over 40 years and 750,000 people to create the arm and tomb. After his unexpectedly early death, his dynasty was overthrown and the tomb attacked, looted and burned. The upper portions erased, they disappeared from history for almost 2000 years until rediscovered by a farmer digging a well in 1974.
But first a shopping opportunity – we will stop at a factory that makes reproductions. The process is labor intensive with multi-part molds and firings. We do buy a set of small figures with a 20% discount for having cute Chinese girls, $160RMB. Sherry insists that these are superior to the ones will see hawked on the site.
On to the tomb. We all opt for the 6 yuan golf cart ride up to the entrance of the buildings protecting the excavated sites. The scenery of the surrounding mountains is magnificent, terraced green slopes marching along the horizon. There are several buildings housing excavation sites. First we see a movie about the building and rediscovery. It’s a circular screen and we stand in the middle, with the Emperor’s army thundering past. It would be even better if they could get the sound working, but we get the gist. Lela has her theater freak out (from a very traumatic experience involving hundreds of dancing Santas at Radio City Music Hall) and I have to carry her in screaming, but she enjoys it once she actually looks.
Then on to the main site. An enormous field house type structure covers the excavated warriors, who stand in ranks about 5 abreast, stretching back far into the distance. There is an elevated promenade around the perimeter, and we walk to the other end. The once brightly painted warriors each have an individual face, though they are made as types; archer, foot soldier, charioteer, commander, general – but only one Emperor. Now they march begrimed with dust from the amber sandstone and dry rusty earth that surrounds them. Towards the back a charioteer stands next to his four horses, the wooden chariot succumbed to rot long ago.
Then on to a building that covers an ongoing excavation. We look deep into a pit, where four horses have been uncovered and the fragmented remains of others lie in a jumbled heap. Around the perimeter where we walk are cases with one of each of the types to be viewed up close and personal The next building is more of a museum, with recovered artifacts. Did I mention we’d lost the group three times by now, pausing to look, then looking up to find no one familiar in sight. Finally lunch, at a large restaurant located on the grounds. We are seated at one large table with a lazy susan on which various dishes are placed. More selections line tables along the walls. At one station a chef is making noodles, stretching out the dough and pounding it down on the table. I try a little of everything, sacrificing my figure in the name of adventure. Some of it is a little strange. Some of it is a lot strange, but interesting, like the preserved melon in orange juice, at least I think that’s what it was.
On the way out we are assaulted by hawkers with boxed sets of warriors, one dollar. I stop, though Sherry has expressly forbidden us to talk to “those people.” She was right, turns out its a scam of getting one of the figures not the set. I do buy a set for more than I should, but still less than $5. The Littles are much better bargainers, getting a whole set for $1 US. Oh well, it’s not like it was gold futures. I also buy a wall hanging of bright appliquйs probably for more than I should, about $12 US. Back on the bus with punch drunk children and home to the hotel.
Lian has a late nap and I take Lela to the pool. We play Princess Ariel, (Little Mermaid,, Disney version for those without small girls) and I get to be the evil sea witch, also pinch hitting as Ariel’s sister or King Triton as required. (You can’t play Cinderella in a pool!) Back downstairs, we find Lian grieving in Jamie’s arms. Our arrival snaps her out of it. We dither about dinner, go out walking to look. Up the nearest main drag we pass a children’s clothing shop. We stop to ask for shoes. She doesn’t have Lian’s size but directs us to a shoe store around the corner. None of this happens in English. The shoe store is huge, opening onto the pavement. By pointing at Lian’s feet, we get sent upstairs to the children’s dept. As I have reported, we emerged successfully with pink mesh tops for Lian and extra fancy princess sandals for Lela. On the walk back we get ice cream bars. Lian steadily works on hers though it is mostly running down her fist. It’s already late so we just mop the girls off, read a quick story and it’s bed time for all.

Family pictures !

Mommy and girls !

Sisters Lela and Lian !

Daddy and girls !

Hi Daddy !

Jamie lifting weights !

Family of four 4ever !

Look at that smile !

Daddy and girls !

Yum, we love food !

Big kisses from Daddy !

Sleeping Lian !

Computer time with Daddy !

All About Lian

All about Lian
We interrupt this travelogue to introduce the star, the reason we’ve traveled to the other side of the planet. Who is this little person we’ve welcomed into our family? She has a definite personality. When we got her she had clearly been prepared, but after a long disorienting train ride from the SWI and abrupt transition, was in a state of shock. She can make her face a mask with just worried eyes peeping out. She was compliant, sitting, holding on, getting her picture taken, walking holding hands, but we could sense she was going through the motions. Jamie got the first giggle, playing horsey and tickle me, and he is clearly her favorite.
There is clearly a little brain in there, working, working. Even the first night when we brought out some little toys, she quickly mastered the different buttons on the toy radio. She sat on the floor and played with the little cars after Lela grudgingly allocated two. She appropriated a gallon zip lock to store her toys, and loves to dump them out and put them in again. She took to bedtime story right away. Her favorite book is Good Dog Carl which she will bring over and hold up. It doesn’t have any words just pictures of the misadventures of a friendly Rottweiler and the baby he is supposed to be looking after. She flips the pages back and points to the pictures to hear the words, baby, bread, grapes, swim etc. She also snuggles up to listen to Lela’s story, usually a princess or Clifford the Big Red Dog, and points to the pictures. She likes to help, so when I make one of my periodic but mostly futile efforts to tidy up the slum we call our room, she trots around, picking things off the floor and handing them to me.
The bath made her a little nervous at first, but now she jogs over to get in and loves to play with the cups and spoons we brought. The shower is another story. She has a cold and some chest congestion so Jamie decided to take her in the shower to steam. Even though we’d been told she was showered at the SWI, but like Lela, she hates to get her face wet, it was wailing and crying the entire time. Now we just steam the whole room while she’s in the bath.
The first two days her afternoon nap triggered grieving, once with me, once with Jamie, for over an hour. The third day she fell asleep while we were in the van, I carried her into a restaurant and she woke up abruptly when I laid her down on a chair. I could see panic for a second or two until she realized that we were there, and then she was OK.
I think the turning point was two nights ago when we went out at night to stroll and see if we could do some shopping. Only one pair of shoes we brought with us fit her, the sneakers, and they will be too hot in Guangzhou. We were directed to a shoe store and bought her hot pink mesh tops with light up heels. She dragged Jamie all over the selling floor testing them out. We also found Lela the most princessey sandals ever, also pink, with glitter straps, lace bow and big jewel, on sale for 25RMB about 3$, so everyone was happy. We got ice cream bars on the way back and Lian walked the whole way, ice cream dripping, shoes flashing red sparks in the dark. Shoes and sweets, the way to a girl’s heart.
However, all is not sweetness and light. Lela is having a tough time transitioning from only to older. We have several tantrums a day, usually over a refusal to carry her the entire time we tour some sight, having to share her stroller, a toy, not getting instant gratification, IE ice cream, being told no when she want to supplant Lian in one of our laps. Rationally we know this is very hard on her, but it’s pretty hard to stay rational when she’s screaming and kicking at our feet. We sincerely hope this too will pass, QUICKLY. We are trying not to make comparisons or tell her she’s being bad, but not easy. We are trying to make quality time for her, like taking her out with one of us while Lian has her afternoon nap. It doesn’t help that Lian has not taken to her, and when Lela does try to reach out, she often gets pushed away, or if she offers to share a toy, Lian adds it to her hoard. Lian has lived in a group of kids all her life; she’s got skills and strategies that Lela entirely lacks. Lela is learning the hard way that if she doesn’t pick up her toys, they are fair game – maybe we’ll have a cleaner house.
When we first got her I started to have concerns about her hearing, since her response to aural stimuli was slow or non existent. While she was sitting in my lap facing out, I let out a wolf whistle and she only turned when my breathe stirred her hair. Now I think that was mostly shock. She clearly can hear, though I think she probably needs ear tubes and her cold doesn’t help. For the first two days, we didn’t hear a peep out of her other than crying. Then the third night when we put her down to bed, she started chatting away in Chinese. So we know she can if she wants. Yesterday evening, I think she was actually making an attempt. Her palate repair is still new and healing, so it will take a while. She still drinks like she has a hole in the roof of her mouth, biting at the liquid rather than sipping.
But she manages to consume mass quantities, until we have to shut her off for fear she’ll get sick. The only thing she’s refused was some very spicy eggplant. She doesn’t like to give things up. She found a bag of trail mix in the back pack, wailed when it was removed and only ceased when bribed with a handful of cashews. We’ve had the same reaction when Lela snatched away one of her toys.
But we have made the transition from strangers. Last night at a restaurant, a woman tried to pick her up and she wailed and clutched at Jamie, so I think we are on our way to being a real family.