She is 2.5

 I'm snuggled down on the couch, a cooking segment on the Today show. Ariam's play kitchen and baby accessories are spread widely over our new basement family room and she is modeling random items of my clothing.

The dogs are impatient. Talay tore her ACL right before Christmas and is still recovering from surgery. August is 7 months old and under exercised because of the cold.

It's been almost two years since we were matched with "baby Derartu" on March 1, 2010.
Amazing how much a child changes in two years. For J and I, two years doesn't bring a lot of personality or physical change. A few more gray hairs, a few more wrinkles, but we are still recognizable. Ariam is almost unrecognizable, except for her sparkly eyes which I would know anywhere.

She's now 3 feet tall and 30 pounds. Her hair, when stretched, is at least 8 inches long. She prefers her nails painted. She can discuss books and seasons and find Ethiopia on a map. She moved from silence, to "dada" to "JER - come here and get me out of this crib" in the blink of an eye.

As I type Ariam is playing doctor on her baby. She spends much of her imaginative play time caring for others. Heating bottles for her baby and feeding her, giving us imaginary medicine and bandaids on our owies, brushing my hair, or cooking up eggies and chicken nuggets in her toy kitchen. She loves to nurture and help and is consistently kind and empathetic. A few weeks ago when August chewed up my shoe (and I was storming around the house in fury) Ariam followed me around saying "it's ok mommy, I'm sorry. we'll get you another one. it's ok..." in her sweetest softest voice.

She's very verbal. We're constantly amazed by what she absorbs and repeats correctly. Last week her teacher told us that Ariam arrived to school and told them that Daddy took her to Mc.Donald's but wouldn't let her play so she was "very frustrated." She's learning how to talk about her emotions and has less tantrums and breakdowns in general.

Ariam loves people. Names of friends, family, and the grocery store clerks are all very important to her. She knows the name of every baby and child at her daycare and whenever a new person enters her life (or a story) she must know his/her name (and usually the parent's and grandparent's names) immediately.

Sleep is still not her strong suit. We've had several nap fails (but not napping is really not an option in this house) and we went through a period of 2-3 months averaging four wake ups/night. I think Ariam is starting to dream. She's having some night terrors, combined with waking up when she wets her diaper. We've been sleep deprived. But little by little I see it getting better.

Over Thanksgiving Ariam started using the potty. It was amazing. Enough said.

Maybe the biggest change that has taken place since Ariam turned two last July is her growing interest in her story. Once a week I rock her and try to tell her some of the pieces. It's been hard - very hard - knowing how to talk to her about what we know of her life before we met. In our quest to learn the truth about her first family we've been given misinformation more than once. I've learned that the details have to remain fuzzy and that for now the bigger story is all that we can share. Ariam likes to share her story at random times with random people. It usually sounds like this (with very wide eyes) "I was a little baby. I lived with nannies. Then mommy and daddy flew ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE WORLD to come and give me my bottle."

Ariam keeps us laughing constantly. She's outgrown my favorite phrase "I hold you mommy?"But she's moved on to other funny phrases like "No pinching Jesus, right mommy?" (She's very tempted to pinch everyone and everything.)

She is also very obsessed with her (and everybody else's) private parts. She likes to include at least one body part word in every conversation. It goes something like this: "Hey mommy, I want a marshmallow and I saw Andrew's pe.nis at school today."
There are a lot of things I didn't know about raising toddlers. I'm endlessly surprised by how intimate mothering can be. How very little personal body space I'm allowed, how many complex questions have to be answered, how they notice absolutely everything - especially things you try to hide from them and how much personality and strong opinions a child can have by age 2.5. Ariam is already asking us about God and Jesus, about mothers and babies, about body parts, about death, adoption, medicine, J's diabetes, blood sugar, Africa and so much more. She is observant, curious, and chatty beyond belief. With the world's shortest attention span.

I would describe our life as parents as equal parts fascinating, hilarious, and terrifying.

She spends much of her time at home naked or in the process of costume changes.

Ariam desperately wants a baby brother or sister and talks about it all the time. Despite zero encouragement from us, she's been telling her teachers that she's getting a baby really soon. She's not.

Well, not soon soon.........


~A

A Star is Born

"Creative Movement" dance class culminated in a

 Recital.

Ariam the most confident and self-assured 2.5 year old to ever grace the stage.

Shining like a brilliant jewel.

At one point she danced to the edge of the stage and yelled "Daddy!!!"

Broadway here we come.

The Closest Thing to a Baby

is our new English Springer Spaniel puppy.

He's not so new to us anymore since he has been in the family since just after Labor Day. But I'd like to officially introduce him here. So, without further ado, AUGUSTUS IGNATIUS Puppus Pantilus.

We mostly refer to him as just Mr. Auggie Pants.

Augustus was the ruler who ushered in the Pax Romana, or the Roman Peace and he was declared a god by the Roman senate.

We've watched closely for any deity-like behavior, but so far Auggie's enjoyment of licking his personal parts has assured us that we are dealing with a mere mortal dog.

Ariam and Talay were not on board with the puppy plan. J was only marginally on board. I'd have to admit to leading this charge into puppy parenthood. But now that August has settled in, we have found him to be a very good addition.

He is five months old now and surprisingly calm, cheery, and relaxed. Talay does not deign to engage his playful antics in her spaces like the living room, hallway, kitchen, dining room, car, etc. But she has been playing nicely with him in the yard and in the newly carpeted basement family room. I don't think she's ever going to cuddle the way he would like to, but she is very obviously happy to have a canine companion again.

August and Ariam have developed a love hate relationship. He loves her and she hates him. Except for when she loves him. (She's fickle.)

Their relationship got off to a poor start when, on his first week home, she raced through the house bare bummed and screaming. Well, that little brown bum racing through the living room looked...juicy? I guess. And August's 3 month old self could not resist leaping up and nibbling it.

Seriously though they are doing pretty well now. It's been a bonding issue for Ariam and Talay (bonding over shared annoyance) but overall Ariam is a cool customer with the puppy and demonstrates a lot of calm assertive behavior ala Ces.ar M.ilan and the dog whi.sperer.

I adore this puppy. He has been a great gift. It's always very hard to tell what you'll get with a puppy but we knew that it would be hard to go wrong with another well bred English Springer Spaniel. They tend towards loyal, happy, kid-friendly, companions.

Sometimes, when August is lounging on his back in the bed (only when J isn't home, shhhh) I look at him and see Cassidy. There's definitely a bit of her in him and I could not have asked for more than that.

~A

wishing for another child

i feel like i need to blog about this in the online equivalent of whispering.

it's just this whisper floating through my days. a wish for another child. the feeling that someone is missing at dinner. the urgency that ariam should not be alone in this world, dealing with her weirdo parents as we grow old.

it is a whisper that grows louder when we want to take a family photo and i feel unbalanced, like there should be two white adults and two brown-skinned children. it is that nostalgic whisper as i put away bottles and sippies, store the high chair, consider preschools, buy our first pack of little girl panties instead of diapers.

but I don't know. i just don't know. my wishing for another child is all about me (or you could say about us/ariam.) it is not at all clear to me what path we could take that would merge our wishes with the needs of a child.

i think. think. that ethiopia is not the direction for us. while we were not at all happy go lucky adoptive parents with blinders on entering ariam's adoption, we are even less so now that we have searched for her family and story.

i thought, hoped, that moving towards domestic african american infant adoption would reduce some of our concerns surrounding ethical infant adoption. learning that is not necessarily true. sometimes i think it would be tremendously easier to be a less intentional person. someone who doesn't give a s--t. really. that must be such an easy way to live.

adoption is not simple. it is not a slogan on a t-shirt. it involves human lives. i want no part in screwing that up. so i don't know. i just don't know.

adopt again, raise an only child, foster when ariam is much older....

but no fertility treatment. two years ago next month we found out that we have absolutely no hope of reproducing without major medical intervention. we did nothing with that news. and six months later completed the adoption we had begun the previous spring. i always thought we'd revisit the conversation but i don't think we will. ariam is all i could have ever asked for in a daughter. i want her to have a sibling she can relate to. so fertility treatment is not in our cards. and there's no venting or ranting needed. we are happy, at peace and completely at ease with that decision. i imagine that our genes could not possible produce a child who could compare in any way to ariam.

and because no post could be complete without her sweetness....i present to you....the perfect peacock!

~A

School Schmool

What's up with picking a preschool these days?!

B.A. (before Ariam) we would stroll by the neighborhood elementary school just a block from our house and pat ourselves on the back for living so close to school. How easy! How convenient! Won't that be perfect when our kiddo comes home?! No commute for school, hooray!

These days, when we stroll by the neighborhood elementary school with it's big banner advertising ECE for 3 and 4 year olds, we pout, we roll our eyes, we sigh. We remind each other that "this will be the last resort."

What has happend to us? Oh, yes, becoming parents in a P.A. (post Ariam) world.

Yesterday we went to two preschool open house tours. Apparently these things are all the rage - practically replacing date night as a fall activity for all parents in our city. We couldn't even get on the waitlist for the open house for one of the schools!

As I sat in the little tiered and carpeted (you know the kind of carpet, that industrial blue stuff that starts peeling into little unraveling plastic strings at the ends) auditorium listening to a principal describe Montessori curriculum, I couldn't help but feel the crushing weight of parental responsibility crash down on our shoulders.

Here are some of the nagging voices of parental responsibility:
"Whatever you choose, it will set the stage for her life, happiness, career, future ....."
"This could be the auditorium you will be trapped in for school plays for the next 8 years..." (ok, my own concern not exactly parental responsibility concern.)
"White, Latino, White, Latino. White, white, white."
"Dual language is so important. He's telling us it is SO important. If we don't get her in here she'll practically be unable to communicate in life!"
"Montessori, montessori, traditional classroom, traditional classroom. Make your choice but don't choose wrong..."

How do you make these choices? Little neighborhood school, well in writing it sounds very sweet and quaint. In reality it is almost 100% Latino (not a problem at all except that it is as lacking in diversity as an all white school.) It is also not dual language, not top performing, not a magnet or charter school, not, not, not, not.

Do kids really need all of this scholastic input? At age 3? Do they? They might. I really seriously do not have an answer here. Mr. dual language Montessori magnet school guy says they do.

I don't remember anything about school before age 5. I think it was called daycare. I think they flicked me on the head if I was naughty, I spent afternoons napping, and my mom taught me my numbers and letters at home. Somehow I succeeded in life, although God only knows how.... ;)

Here's the thing. Today I had to be at the Children's Hospital for something. We're there reasonably often. But today I was not with Ariam so I had the chance to look and listen more. The woman I was with told me that right before I sat down in her office she had to call a family whose child had died to let them know they have a $1 million dollar medical bill. One million dollars.

Walking through the halls I watched kids in wagons, hooked to IVs, sip tiny sips of orange juice.

Ariam has medical challenges but not quite like these kids. We are so very fortunate that our decisions are not life and death ones. That we can spend our time worried about something as frivolous as 3 year old preschool.  We are so fortunate to have her. She is so fortunate to be healthy, alive, thriving. She is so smart. Already smarter than us. I want to make the right decisions for her even though I can't look in a crystal ball and see the end results.

So... here are the options for the fall so far:

1. Public school ECE (ages 3-5 in one class) with dual language classrooms. Large class sizes, Montessori based, half day program. Caucasian/Latino but not much other diversity. A magnet school but not in a fancy neighborhood with lots of funding and special "extras." Designed for kids to go age 3-5th grade with full fluency in both languages by graduation.

2. Private preschool (ages 3-4 in one class) with some Spanish taught/spoken. Small class size. Love and Logic based, full day program (but doesn't have to be 5 days/week.) Random diversity, heavy also on  Caucasian/Latino. Lots of parent involvement - bringing in favorite foods, sharing about trips to other countries, etc. Not Montessori - more group activities, field trips, etc. Designed to meet the needs of our neighborhood (in walking distance), prepare kids for kindergarten, and a fun environment.

There are other options. We have a list of SIX other programs to visit. A very diverse private preschool downtown (hello waiting list), our local school, another Montessori dual language program, and a couple of schools across town that would be annoying for commute now but could be good options if we relocated in a couple of years.

I have a feeling that in the end we will still have no clue what we are doing. We will put our numbers into a lottery for a lot of them, pay money to sit on the waitlists for the other private ones, and pray to God that it all works out.

It's pretty unsettling. This whole school thing. It's like the person who used to smile knowingly at the little neighborhood elementary school (yeah, the school and I were in solidarity about our need for a small one to enter my home) is gone. Replaced by rabid preschool weirdo mother.

Decisions decisions. How do you make this one? What weight do you give to language? diversity? distance from home? class size? price? teaching style?

~A

Oh, and a quick pic of the little miss headed off to preschool in the fall. She started dance class.

Reunited

Talk about loss of momentum. I didn't realize how hard it would be to get back to blogging after neglecting it so long.

..................................................................

This past spring, when it was cold and white here in our next-to-the-mountains city, I sat in my bed and scribbled out an email fantasy to three amazing mothers of three little Ethiopians (and 3 equally lovely non-Ethiopian!)

At the end of August, the dream that started in a chain of giddy emails almost 6 months earlier, finally came true over five picture-perfect days in Santa Fe.

Taki, Noemi, Kenenisa and Ariam.

Floating in the swimming pool on our last morning I was struck by how Taki, previously this tiny, fragile baby, hurt so deeply by life in an orphanage, has turned into a fearless, pool jumping, splashing, happy boy. Noemi, previously gripped by anxiety has blossomed into a funny, brave, open, loving little girl. Kenenisa, who couldn't breath and almost died in Ethiopia, now our chilled out, ukulele rockin,  nature loving sweet little man.

And my sweet Ariam. Who received the boys and their mommies as visitors in Ethiopia while waiting for us to come for her. So patient. So even tempered and open to life. My sweet Ariam who chose to ride like a queen on her floating seat through the pool but who got brave and ultimately jumped in. She who always chooses love and life and laughter. It was amazing for me to see these four together. The way they each fit with their mommy. The way they accept each other.

Each one magnified in beauty by the presence of the others.

~A.

Hello, are you still there?

I want to blog. I really really do. I miss all of you.

But the momentum is lost. I got a new computer and none of my photos are here. How can I blog without access to photos? But who has time to transfer photos from one computer to another? Actually, I should probably do that. Or do something to store them/back them up.

What do you do with your important photos besides transferring them via thumb drive every time you get a new computer?

For now here are some blogger bullet points I want to expand on as soon as this pesky photo problem is dealt with:

- Ariam and I spent a week in Santa Fe with her baby friends from Ethiopia, their moms, and her fairy godmother, Morgan. It was an epic reunion. The cuteness was hard to handle. See why I need photos to blog about this??

- We got a puppy!!!!!!!

- Baby #2 - in the works. Sadly not as easy as just getting pregnant and popping out a baby 9 months later. So of course I need to overshare and vent here.

- Ariam is growing up, complete with multiple sentences, a passion for all things babies and mothering, her own sense of art and style, and mad dance class skills.

- I went to London for work but also got to spend time with Claudia!

See?? I need my photos. What should I do?

~A

Two

Thank you all so much for your supportive comments. I am going to have to remove some for privacy but please don't take that personally.

It was a very hard several weeks. Ultimately the cons outweighed the pros. What a simple statement to summarize weeks of agonizing, googling, crying, endless long-distance phone calls, pounding on the calculator, and mentally reducing our household to whatever we could fit in a suitcase set. 

We stay. I continue to read blogs written by expats doing what I want to do in Uganda, Haiti, Peru, and Sudan. Maybe someday it will be our turn.

.................................................................................................................

Life has this way of continuing to hurtle you forward. In the middle of making "the big decision" - the sweetpea celebrated her 2nd birthday!!

Somehow she got it in her head that she needed a bike. She's 2! Honestly, how does she need a bike?? But she's seen the "cool kids" (you know, preschoolers) riding them and felt very strongly that a bike was her just reward for living 2 years on planet earth. We heard "bike? birthday? lemonade? bike?" every day for at least 3 weeks leading up to her birthday.

The grandparents, being suckers of the very sweetest kind, indulged her in the best of the best toddler bike and an equally exciting kitty bike helmet.

Gearing up for the bike riding!

Safety first!

According to J, her eyes were perfect circles of amazement.

And she's off! An inch a minute!

We also celebrated with a water themed birthday party. I had big plans for a water balloon toss and other activities but by the time I walked from the back door to the kiddie pool filled with water balloons the toddler gang mentality had taken over and the gang was busy pelting adults, grass, plants and the house. We made do with lots of water mister fun, water table fun, and, at Ariam's request, never ending lemonade. :)

This picture sucks the breath out of me. She looks 18 years old already!

Love for Aya and love for cupcake frosting.

Hero worship. Ariam loves Elia. She can't get enough of her.

Prezzies. Lots of prezzies.

I love you sweetpea. You are the sparkly light of our life.

~A

Half A World Away

We may or may not be moving there - half a world away. Quite literally the farthest corner of the ocean you could imagine or locate on your map. Just picture beaches, palm trees, coconut milk.... ah.

Then picture complete career fulfillment in this location. Combined with financial security. And a 37.5 hour workweek with 6-8 weeks annual vacation.

Sounds like a dream right? But it's not. It is just there, at our fingertips.

This other world just lingers as an option around our house these days. Last month it was a beloved and anticipated houseguest. Lately it has worn out its welcome, causing us to feel unsatisfied and angry at our current life situation but unsatisfied and angry at the dream.

During daylight I feel energized, excited, optimistic. As the sun starts to set I feel fearful, strange, plagued by doubt. Overly in love with my basement rennovation and the desire to use our new family room. (I actually cried at the thought of never using my beautiful new basement bathroom the other night.) But equally fearful of winter and regret and snow and feeling trapped.

Actual photo from the actual place. Yeah, no kidding.

I pray, I seek signs, I twist and turn options in my mind. I poke and prod J into conversations that never come to any conclusion. The problem is that prayer got me here. Yes, right here. With an amazing job offer in the ideal location with my dream organization. With J fully on board. I fully believe that prayer got me here because this job fell out of the sky, I sailed through two grueling interviews without falling on my face, and the offer is good and generous. Amazing actually. Thank you God for answered prayers. But darn it God, I prayed myself into this corner!

So with prayer answered, shouldn't the next step be obvious?

Except. EXCEPT.

Except that the insurance is biased against Ariam. Will not cover her.  Except that I have learned things in researching expat insurance plans that have turned my world upside down. Except that without access to expat insurance for Ariam we will never live overseas. Ever. And my development career will be....over?

There is such irony here. I am obsessed with the irony. I work in child protection. But to protect my own child I may never again work in development/child protection. Oh the irony. It's the kind of funny that makes you snort with shock and irony, and then that snort turns into a horrified giggle as you explain it to someone, and then at night that giggle turns into tears of horror as you realize the implications for everything you ever thought you were and the gifts you were given and the path you thought you'd been on since before you could remember ever wanting anything else.

I don't know what to do. We're stuck in circles of conversation. And I look and look for the purpose and meaning behind this.

Of course I'd give up everything for Ariam. Of course I would and I'd do it again and again.

But until 3 weeks ago I had never considered that I'd have to.

~A