My own little stimulus package

Ok, get your mind out of the gutter!  I’ve been doing a little pre-tax shopping because darn it, I am tired of constantly saving.  I have NEVER spent my taxes on anything fun for myself.  It was paying for college, saving for a down payment for my house, and then putting money towards two dossiers/adoptions. 

I felt guilty for buying it when I still owe my parents money, but as my mom reminded me it is a gift for both Spud and me.  Memories fade, good photos don’t.  So, I now have a Canon XSi.  Ultimately it was a Nikon D80 or a Canon—both had a lot of the same features and both came highly recommended.  The thing that finally pushed me towards the Canon is that every photographer that Spud has worked with over the last few weeks and every professional photographer I know personally recommended the Canon Rebel.   I should also note that most of them also had a Nikon so I think at some point it comes down to a matter of preference. 

In addition, Kelly (thank you, Kelly!) emailed me suggestions on authors for photography books.  So, here are some photos of the “dead” flowers at my parent’s house.

    

I LOVE this face!  He is such a flirt. 

Today I am so thankful that some of my old passions are beginning to resurface.  The things I used to enjoy, before dossiers and horrendous waits and hair losing stress (thankfully the hair is growing back), are beginning to awaken in me again.  I used to love to do photography in the days before digital, well, before digital was main stream.  I used to go into the lab on campus and develop the film and I would spend hours printing (you know, in the dark with the little red light) trying to get just the right look.  Now you can shoot it, delete it and fix it in Photoshop.  So much easier!  I’ve also been writing again.  Somedays it just flows out of me—I usually use my blog as a way of getting the flow going.  Other days it just isn’t there and that’s ok too.  I’m just glad it is waking something up in me again.  I feel happier (of course, a lot of that is probably Spud).  For so long my focus has been work and the horrendous wait of these adoptions.  I still think of my daughter and wonder what it will be like when she is here.  I still dream of her. Just last week I dreamed of her again and I realized that we are probably closer than we realize.  On occasion there will be debates on RQ about who is “most deserving” of a child or who longs for a child the most—the childless person/couple or the one who already has one or more.  The families with one or more always argue that it is just as hard.  I can’t agree.  Having a child at home does take the edge off the wait for my daughter.  Two years ago I could never have imagined loving a son this much and now I wonder how large my heart will swell when I have two. 

God has been very good to me.

Lunch with the Spud

Where’s the beef, Ma? And, yes, I actually fed him roast beef. 

 

Spud is aware of the camera at all times.  It is impossible to get a photo of him when he isn’t focusing on the camera.  Even though the camera was off to the side (not where the food was) he still stared at the camera. 

Even when the food was coming in he was still staring at the camera.  He gets so serious when he sees the camera!

And photos of his whack-a-doodle hair:

People often ask me if I put gel in his hair to give him a faux-hawk, but why would I put product in my son’s hair when I am too lazy to put it in my own???  So, no, I don’t use product.  It’s all natural, baby!

This was in Da Nang—we had only been together for a few days.  I probably shouldn’t watermark this photo since it was actually shot by Spud’s Aunt Chennie, but she has the original and it still belongs to her.  The only thing funnier than that hair is the white knuckled grip he has on the side of the pack ‘n play.  The referral photos I received while I waited to travel often included some spiky hair.  One of my favorite photos was taken by Cinnamon:

He doesn’t look very happy here, does he?  I wasn’t very happy here either.  I wanted to hold him soooo bad.  I would cry every time I received new photos of him—in the beginning it was because I was just so happy to have a piece of him and watch him grow.  Towards the end, well, I just cried photos or not.  I waited nearly four months after I received my referral before I traveled and towards the end I began to get weepy.  I hated that someone else was taking care of him and watching him grow.  That seems so long ago now.  It’s strange—people would tell me that all the time, but honestly, until you finally have your child in your arms you really can’t really see that far ahead.  How could you?  You are busy wondering about the future, wondering if your child is warm enough and has enough food.  I wondered all the time if he had someone to comfort him when he cried.  Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, but he seems wonderfully adjusted.  He rarely cries and I do NOT think it is because he was ignored (as was suggested by one AP).  He is just a smiley, happy baby.  Just not on camera:)

And from the Mead Johnson photo shoot:

Is he beautiful or what????  I love him.  Can you tell?

Chewable Pampers

 

I saw this skit on SNL a few weeks ago and I almost shot a popcorn kernel out my nose I was laughing so hard.  I thought of it again today when I looked outside and saw a mangy mutt gnawing on one of Spud’s frozen butt biscuits (diapers). 

So how did a mutt find Spud’s diapers, you ask?  Because I am lazy.  The Spud enjoys all things trash related—he even wakes up early on the day the trash truck comes by (thanks a lot for that, trash man)—so trash is not safe in our home.  Trash cans whether they are bathroom, bedroom or kitchen are routinely dumped out and scattered about.  That particular kitchen bag had a load of his nasty diapers and the meat packaging from some beef and pork I had cooked up. Obviously I didn’t want him getting into it and gnawing on the bloody packages or on a dirty diaper (yes, the boy gnaws on diapers).  So I emptied the trash can and put the full bag over by the back door thinking he would focus on the trash can.  No good.  So I popped the door and left it right outside fully intending to attend to it after he went to bed. 

Unfortunately the big trash bin that is picked up by the trash man was at the end of the driveway on the other side of the house.  By the time I recalled that I needed to get it and bring it back around it was too late.  For whatever reason I can never recall that I need to pull it back to the house before the sun goes down.  If I go out after dark I am forced the drag the noisy thing the length of my driveway and over a very bumpy walnut covered yard.  This inflames every dog in the neighborhood and since we don’t have any streetlights the owners of these dogs then turn on their houselights to investigate why their dogs are barking their balls off.

So I accidently left my trash outside for a day or two or four which is why I found that nasty dog trying to eat baby butt paste out of Spud’s diapers.  Fortunately, those nasty diapers were frozen solid.  They were like bricks and not very edible.  At least not until Spring.   

Family

I decided to surprise my parents with a visit on Wednesday and Thursday.  They live out of state, but after receiving an email that was sent to my father and forwarded to me I realized that Spud hasn’t just impacted my life, he has impacted those around us—family and friends and the ripples extend even further to people that have never met us.

I knew my father would be thrilled to be surprised by Spud and I knew he would LOVE to show him off to his co-workers.  My dad shares more with his co-workers than I ever do so I know they have been involved with this adoption since the beginning.  I couldn’t take any pictures inside of their confectioner’s paradise (he works for a HUGE candy corporation), but I can share these from home:

For some reason this picture just brings tears to my eyes.  I love the way that they just look at each other.  My son has this amazing way of connecting with people.  He just holds their gaze and makes them feel like they are the only two people in the world.  When those two are together I am completely forgotten—it’s just Spud and Opa.

The eyes say it all.

What amazed me most was visiting my father’s office and finding that every single picture I have sent my father of my son has found a place in his office.  The photo of Spud from our photo shoot is his screen saver on his computer.  The Valentine’s Day card that I emailed was printed and on his desk.  He paraded Spud proudly around the plant making sure that everyone had a chance to see him.  He got passed around to everyone that extended their arms.  I am fortunate that Spud and I have bonded so well.  He does ok with being passed to strangers as long as I stand next to him and he can see me. 

I have one week left of maternity leave.  It’s going to be a tough week and I just want to soak up every single second with my son.  I am trying to force my brain to remember these little moments with him.  These little giggle-fests that we share, rocking with a bottle before a nap, meal time with lots of smiles and lately, spit food.  I shouldn’t laugh when he does—I’m sure it just encourages him, but I can’t help myself. 

My view

Yeah, I see this view a lot.  I love it.  I’ll miss it when he stops crawling up my leg. 

Memories of Ha Noi

This should go without saying, but please do not copy any of my photos for your personal use.  Unfortunately, although I am without skill, someone has used my photos for their own use.  From now on I will try to watermark to discourage this, but I really don’t want to!   

Just down the street from the hotel.

Outside the Temple of Literature.  Picture was taken from across the street on a balcony. If you zoom in it appears the man is staring directly at you!

Just inside the Temple of Literature

One of my favorite moments.  Two little boys, two moms and a whole lot of energy!  I could see my son in the faces of these boys and I knew in that moment I was going to be in for a fun ride.  I loved how the women tried to convey that with me once they saw that I also had a son.  Watching them run away, streaking up the sidewalk and appearing to dart in to traffic had my heart racing, but I was smiling at the same time. 

Memories of Vietnam

I’ve been thinking a lot of Vietnam.  I think about it everyday, actually, but little things are bringing back memories that I haven’t recalled since leaving the country. 

The other day it was a smell.  There was a hotel we stayed at that had this incredible smell.  I don’t know what it was—kind of spicy and sweet, but not in an edible sort of way.  It could have been perfume or cologne—it didn’t seem to bend more towards one gender or the other.  Anyway, I LOVED the smell.  I would sniff my hair constantly (because the shampoos and soaps also smelled like it).  Ahhh, sweet Vietnam.

And tonight I remembered this:

We were in Saigon and after a day out we walked over to a little pizza restaurant behind the hotel.  The menu was huge!  Like, American pizza restaurants can in no way compete with this place.  Page after page of specialty pizzas.  We walked back to the hotel with our piping hot pizza and warm drinks and enjoyed it. 

I had forgotten all about it until tonight when I decided that I had to have pizza.  I remember the wait staff—as always, so accommodating.  The waitress wanted to chat while we waited for our pie.  She was from the Philippines and told us about coming to VN.  She told us she was a contracted worker and could work in a number of different countries (I have totally forgotten now, but they were all Asian countries with the exception of one, I think).  She talked about her boyfriend and how their next job would probably not be in the same country together and I realized something.  As an American, my life is relatively easy.  I don’t have to worry about going to another country for work (well, hopefully the economy will turn around so I won’t have to worry about it). 

So much of what we recorded of Vietnam was on the tapes and camcorder provided by NBC.  Since they haven’t yet copied the tapes and sent them back to me I have to rely solely on my memories.  When we were in Vietnam I found myself on a number of occasions trying to hold on to the moment.  I would will myself to remember that moment.  No amount of video tape or photos can really save that moment or the emotions and thought behind it.  It wasn’t the big moments—not the moment I finally had my son in my arms or the ceremony.  It was the quiet moments.  Just me and my son.  Driving down a road.  Watching traffic or the pregnant woman saunter slowly across the street.   Sitting on the empty beach in Da Nang one last time.  Even yesterday I felt a cool wet breeze and the Spud and I both raised our faces to catch it.  Just as we had in Vietnam.  

Ahhh, I miss Vietnam.