Hard Conversations

I’ve been having a truly heartbreaking series of conversations with my little Ladybug. They started last Sunday when just the two of us went out for a day of shopping. We were chatting away, me from the drivers seat and she from her car seat in the back when out of the blue she asked, “Mommy what if the kids at my new school laugh at me?”

Caught by surprise I queried, “why would anyone laugh at you?”

“You know Mommy…because of my lip.”, (an annoyed "duh" was implied).

Stunned I searched for her face in the rear view mirror. She looked worried and her usually spunky eyes were now downcast and sad. My mind flashed to an image of some 5 year old incubus teasing my sweet innocent daughter. I fought back my own sadness and resisted the urge to go full out tiger mom on an imagined preschool bully.

“Did somebody at school laugh at you?”

“No.”

“Was it somebody at gymnastics?”

“Nooooo!” (this time with a tone usually reserved for teenagers). “Mommy, no one laughed at me, I just think I look funny and maybe the new kids will laugh at me.”

(She is so stinkin' observant and reflective. This kid has an old soul.)

I desperately wanted to tell her she is beautiful- PERFECT in every way. I wanted to dismiss her worries as silly and reassure her that no one would ever make fun of her or say anything unkind but I knew it was a lie. No matter how much I try to shelter her someday some rotten little brat is going to say something that hurts her.

As much as I want to protect her I know what I really need to do is prepare her.

And so I didn’t dismiss her fears or give her some false assurance that everyone will always be nice.

Instead I gulped hard and acknowledged that her lip and nose were different and sometimes people might tease her about it.

We talked about why she was born with a cleft (which of course we have done many times before) but then we talked about how she could respond when someone makes fun of her .

That conversation has continued since Sunday and we’ve been role-playing and practicing how she can respond in different situations. We’ve run the gamut from; educating, ignoring, being assertive and demanding the teasing stop and we’ve even come up with a few snappy retorts for just the right occasion.

(Of course her big brothers told her to just let them know about anyone who wasn’t nice to their little sister and they would “take care of it”. Can you say Soprano’s ? And while I don’t want to promote aggression I can tell she feels safer knowing the Bigs have her back.)

Tonight as I kissed her goodnight she informed me that I should talk to her teacher and have the teacher  “tell the kids to be nice” to her.  Sigh, if only it were so easy.

It all makes me wish I could keep her little and safely tucked away in her preschool or better yet keep her at home... forever.

Does she really have to grow up and walk the mean streets of kindergarten?

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Father Daughter Dance

Saturday afternoon marked a first for the girls and for their dad too. A father daughter dance.

Awwwwwww.

Yes it really was as sweet as it sounds. The girls got dolled up and daddy had pink carnation and silver ribbon wrist corsages for his double dates and mom, well she was just a little bit weepy.

Watching my husband with his daughters (as they wrap him around their little fingers) never ceases to melt me at the knees. Come to think of it these girls do a darned good job melting my heart too.

Guess I'm sort of melty about all three of them.

Princess perfect in blue "gowns" and silver shoes.

What guy wouldn't love to have two women fight over him?

She is beautiful inside and out.

Devil with a blue dress...

Lets get this party started!

Ready to go...oh and please do not mess up my perfect hair.

Please don't leave without casting a vote!

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Court allows LB to keep her real birth date!

On Friday we went to the County Courthouse for a hearing to establish Ladybug’s legal birth date.  It was actually Family Court, the “happy court” we were told, but it still felt serious.

After passing through medical detectors and armed guards we were directed to “our” court room which was small, worn and official looking.  There was nothing there that said “happy”, at least in my estimation. The focus of the room was the over sized judge's bench flanked by the US and OH flags.  I started to wonder who would sit there but my answer came just a moment later.  The magistrate who would  hear our petition turned out to be a young woman, perhaps in her thirties, who gave off a big-time “mom” vibe. (I would lay money that she drove to work in a minivan.) Yea for us! Immediately I felt she would be empathetic.

We decided I would be the one to give testimony (which really means when our lawyer asked me and my husband which of us should testify I’m pretty sure my husband put one finger to his nose and pointed another at me and said “not me”...or something to that effect...sigh...yes, perhaps this was for the best.)

I swore my oath to tell the truth and my lawyer prompted me to tell our story.  I explained that Ladybug was found on August **th and  how the police immediately brought her to the orphanage at 9am that morning.  I told them how an American missionary family was walking up the orphanage drive just as the police car was leaving.  I explained that this family cared for her over the next six months and they kept a journal of her time there.  I read excerpts from the journal that described Ladybug as a newborn with a fresh umbilical cord. I explained how the foster mother had 9 biological children and would be capable of knowing the difference between a newborn and a one month old. And I explained how unlikely it would be for a Chinese birth family to keep a child with a severe cleft for a month before abandoning the child.

Then I said;

“My daughter has lost everything related to her birth; her first family, her country, her language, her food, her customs, her history. Her real date of birth is the last thing she has that ties her there. That day is hers and it is the one thing I can help her to keep.”


“And I know one month doesn’t seem like a huge difference but I would challenge any mother, if your child’s birth certificate contained an error amounting to just one day off, wouldn’t you try to have it corrected?” 

I saw the judge nod her head in agreement and I knew she got it.


And so our petition was granted The Ladybug got to keep her real birthday.

But it turns out the judge was not only swayed by our emotional pleas. 

We had unique evidence to support our case and more importantly we had not used her wrong birth date on any US documents. All of her school and medical records have the right date AND we very intentionally have not applied for a SS# or passport or even claimed her on our tax returns to make sure the wrong birth date didn’t get into “the system”.  And, it turns out THAT was likely the reason she approved our request.

Both the judge and our attorney gave us stern warnings about the possibility of problems later on with Homeland Security and other government agencies stemming from the differing birth dates.  The judge began her warning with saying "Since 9/11...." (long long sigh)

Of course we were already aware of this, (and frustrated beyond all get out that this sort of crap goes on), but we had decided early on that it was important enough to risk the consequences. In the worst case we figure we travel internationally enough that any problems will be unearthed while Ladybug is still a child which will give us time to work them out.  The last thing we wanted was to dump this issue on her when she is an adult.

And while I'm glad the right thing was done in our case it scares the pudding out of me that correcting an error has to be a court proceeding and come with a risk of future problems with Homeland Security.

It's a pretty good indication that things are out of control when it's this hard to do the right thing...and a pretty simple thing at that.

Vote Daily Please.

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First Day for the Littles

Last minute bow adjustments...

Nervousness sets in...

Trying to calm the first day jitters by finding Kazakhstan and China on the map

Poor Bee she still has significant separation anxiety

but we did get one smiley picture from our newest Kindergartner!

a little footnote for this mama to remember a sweet moment.  The Bee chose to wear her "Dorothy" red ruby slipper shoes so she could click her heels and come home if she missed me. Awwww.

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My Daughter's REAL Birthdate Matters

Today is The Ladybug’s birthday but it is not the birth date listed on her Chinese birth certificate. Because the date listed on her birth certificate is wrong; a date incorrectly estimated and assigned to her by an orphanage director. We know this to be true based on first-hand accounts by the foster parents who took custody of her within hours of her birth.

The dates are “only” off by about a month so it’s not as if they affect anything in terms of significant age, developmental assessments or school placement or anything else like that.  It’s just that the birth date is not hers.

And for a kid who’s already lost so much of her birth story that month really matters.

But let me tell you getting this mistake corrected isn’t as simple as it should be. 

We have actually had to hire an immigration/adoption attorney to prepare a formal motion with the court; in doing so we have had to gather documentation from China, her foster parents and our physician. But that’s not the worst part, our attorney has actually advised us NOT to proceed with our request because it could cause inconsistencies in The bug's “official records” that flag immigration and Homeland Security.  She could have problems when obtaining a passport and when traveling in and out of the US.

So basically a consistent error is preferred over a onetime correction?

Are you kidding me? 

According to the "experts" my daughter should just suck it up and keep a false birth date because it’s an administrative hassle and apparently represents too much complexity for our government to get right?  If that’s the best we can do then we seriously have no hope of keeping terrorists out of our country.  Because if THIS is too complicated, a five year old with a typo on her forms, we’re sunk. 

And this does bring to light one point (there are many) of absolute agreement I have with adult adoptees; 

Adoptees should have full unrestricted access to their original birth certificates, medical history and birth information and, should be able to correct erroneous information without administrative burden.

My daughter’s birth date is the one thing from her birth story that she still “owns” and no amount of USCIS/TSA/Homeland Security bureaucratic stupidity is going to take it away from her!

TODAY is her birthday. 

Not July 25^th. TODAY.

And it matters that we get it right.

Happy 5th birthday my love.

We go to court in October.  Wish us luck,

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Violin Lessons

The Littles have been taking violin lesson for about six months now. (In keeping with my full disclosure policy,  I must tell you that Dad got a new camera for his birthday which is why I have pictures of today's lesson to share.) So far they have taken their lessons together.  Because they really like to be together (interpret as they are nearly lost and in tears without each other).

For now they both seem to be enjoying themselves and are willing to bust out their fiddles at home to play a mad rendition of scales whilst rhythmically singing PEA-NUT-BUT-TER-JEL-LIE, PEA-NUT-BUT-TER-JEL-LIE. 

But if I'm being perfectly honest The Ladybug is much more attentive and violin inclined than her sister.

True to her personality she is an exceptional student who pays meticulous attention to every instruction offered by her teacher. (Oh and my favorite part is when the lesson is over she bows and says "thank you for teaching me".  Seriously she's practically perfect.)

And then there's The Bee ...whose attention span isn't quite there (yet).

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Black & White

The Bee:   Mommy the black man is bad.  Brother told me.

Ladybug: And, and, and, Mommy.... you can't call them white man.  Brother said that to me.

The Bee: That's right Mommy... you have to call them  Darth Vader and Storm Trooper.

 Ladybug:  Yup that's right.



You can't make this stuff up.

the force is strong...vote

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Life's a Beach

I just had to share some of the images from a recent beachfront photo shoot.

Of course I am biased but wow!


My.
Girls.
Are.
Stunning!

I look at these and I'm overwhelmed with a sense of appreciation.

How and why I have been so blessed I do not know but, I am grateful.  Eternally grateful.


And I'm awestruck by their perfectly matched-for-each-other sisterhood.

And I marvel at their joyful spirit when in the middle of the photo shoot a butterfly flutters by.

And I sigh, a mother's sigh of satisfaction, seeing their personalities so perfectly captured: The Ladybug so bright and eager and The Bee, vulnerable and shy.

And then,  I see their truest smiles and my heart melts all over again...for the precious daughters I get to call  My Own.

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Editing

And now right before your very eyes I will magically transform our Cedar Point brush with hell Americana into a warm and cherished family memory...in a few years this is just how we will remember it (so long as I delete yesterday's post).

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Car Talk

The Scene:   The Sequoia, Nolan crammed beside Nina and Macy in car seats, Dart and I are riding up front and "Mulan" is playing on the truck's movie screen.


The Prevailing Attitude:  The girls are tired and cranky.  Nolan is 11.


Nolan:  Macy, Mulan is from China just like you.

Macy: I am not Mulan.  I am Pocahontas.

Nolan:  No you are Chinese so you have to be Mulan.

Macy: No I'm not.  Mommy did braids in my hair.  I have Pocahontas hair.

Nolan: No you have Mulan hair because you are Chinese.

Macy:  No I don't!  I am Pocahontas!  I am going to marry John Smith!

Nina:  I have magic hair.  It's turning yellow...like Tangled.

Nolan:  Your hair is turning blond because you are in the sun.

Nina:  Mooooom-meeeee, Nolan says my hair is not yellow!!!


Me:  Nolan leave them alone!  Nina you have magic yellow hair.  It is beautiful.  Macy you can marry John Smith.

Dart: No she can't.


Nolan: (snicker)

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Daddy Dressed Me

A few of you might have wondered worried about Dad taking the girls for a week.

I mean how on earth would he dress them?

well I got an email today and now we know.

sigh, well at least they match each other.

Now I'm wondering how many "I heart daddy" shirts he packed?

Dearest husband, if you are reading this...HAIR COMBING IS NOT OPTIONAL! xoxo

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