Unsolicited

What does one do with unsolicited advice from well meaning parents (or non-parents—the even bigger paradox)? 

Last week I left a little blurb on Spud’s facebook page that he was yelling at me and wanted to go out and play and I asked for suggestions (for what to do).  I received a response from a woman that I know that has several children that said “let him cry it out now or you’ll be sorry later”.

I was horrified.  Part of me wanted to correct her, but I realized that would be counter-productive so I decided to just let it go.

Today I saw her at church and she asked if I had taken my advice and how it worked out.  I said, “I can’t do that”. 

“Sure you can.  You have to.  I did it with mine,” she responded.

“He’s adopted.  It’s contra-indicated,” I told her quietly.

She looked at me like I was smoking crack.  I re-iterated my position and told her that many orphanage raised children have been forced to “cry it out” since birth and as a result no longer rely on caregivers to care for them.

She thought about it and then told me a heart-breaking story of a friend of hers who had adopted twins from a Russian orphanage and that the children would literally cry tears without making a sound. 

People assume that because Spud is such an outgoing child and never gets upset that he has no ill effects from being in the orphanage.  While they did take very good care of him, as I shared with the woman today, I can see the effects of institutionalization.  Because this is a public blog and my son deserves some bit of privacy I will not divulge that information here, nor will I with casual acquaintances (like the woman this morning).

Yesterday I visited a favorite shop that I rarely go to.  They have pretty little things and native instruments that I thought Spud would enjoy playing with.  As the cashier was ringing up my purchase she asked me, “what is your daughter’s name?” 

I said, “HIS name is ….”. 

“Oh, I just assumed that you adopted a little China girl,” she quickly covered.  “I guess I should have known he was yours.”

Yes, he is mine.  And, no, I don’t think that was the question she was asking.  I never know whether to fake it and let people believe is my biological child or to correct (it’s a little gray for me since we have been so publicly identified as adoptive parent and adoptee).  I do want to educate people on adoption as I have previously state, but at what point am I over-exposing him to the comments and questions from strangers?   

Last week my mom mentioned that my aunt had called after seeing the Today Show.  Before she even had a chance to tell me what she said I told her, “if she ever says a bad word about my son or this adoption, so help me, that is war.  Not only will I verbally attack her until she cries, but she will be lucky if I don’t pop her one too.”  Evidently my sister said something along the same lines “she (our aunt) isn’t just taking on Erica if she says something, she is taking on the whole family.  She better watch it.”

As you may have guessed my aunt isn’t so nice.  I was verbally attacked by her repeatedly growing up and I am sorry to say, I don’t recall anyone ever defending me from her assaults.  I don’t know what it is about me, other than the fact that I probably resemble and have the mannerisms of my mother, that provoked her wrath.  The most hurtful attack was, wait for it…about my skin color.  Can you believe that?  Evidently I am “too white” for our family and was accused of coloring down.  Hellooo????  My g’ma is translucent…of course I’m friggin’ white. 

Fortunately she didn’t have anything good or bad to say, but she wants to have a family reunion.  Can I get a “hell to the no” in here. 

Most people comment that I am calm, like really calm, especially when things get nuts.  While I have always defended my family, my sister especially when we were kids, being a mother has awakened a very protective, very angry mama bear.

My son is adopted.  He is also kind and funny and incredibly smart with a great sense of personality.  He has the most beautiful smile and a giggle that melts my heart every time I hear it.  This is my son.  And I love him from the tips of my hair to the bottom of my toes.    

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I received a surprising call this evening from Becky at 6:20 PM reporting that our story was being re-run in a different format.  When I asked why I was told NBC was hoping to reach a different population than the Today Show because they received such  positive feedback from the first show.

Months and months ago I mentioned to Becky how much I wanted to encourage others to adopt and to help other families through the process.  Financially I can not help at this time (I haven’t had a paycheck since December—yikes!), but what I can do is educate every person that has an interest.

Last week I opened a facebook account for my son.  Since then I have received a number of questions from others about the process, how did I do it as a single, and other more specific questions pertaining to adoption.  It is a small thing, but I am so happy to help others who were in the same boat as I was.  As a single person, adoption can be overwhelming.  It’s not just jumping through the hoops.  It’s the waiting, the unknown, and not always having a strong support system knowledgeable about adoption.  People that haven’t adopted, haven’t waited and wondered if it would ever happen or worked against an impossible deadline can never understand what it is like.  For singles I think it is doubly difficult (not that it isn’t hard for couples) because we don’t have that partner that can share the emotional burden. 

I am glad that the original show touched people and I do hope more people will look into adoption.  So many children need families and until I met my son I had NO idea how incredible being a parent could be. 

Dinner with my man

I finally got the video loaded and it is of my son after dinner.  Remember my toxic dump story from a couple of posts a go?  Yeah, just keep that in mind. 

Yeah, is it any wonder why I walk around smiling like a goof ball everyday?  His giggle makes me giggle. 

A Spud for your thoughts…

I have to admit, my mother was right.  It’s not often concede defeat to my mother’s wisdom, but in this case she saw it coming long before I did.  I wish I could be a stay at home mom. 

It would be so easy…except for the loss of a paycheck every couple of weeks.  I so enjoy being home with my son.  The things that I didn’t think I would enjoy about motherhood have actually become my favorite parts of motherhood.  I love to sit him in the high chair and feed him.  With every other child  I have ever cared for it seemed tedious—the food prep, trying to get them to eat, trying to clean them up afterwards.  What a mess.  But as I have said so many other times—he makes this all look very easy.  The Spud with eat anything and I enjoy making him my own version of congee.  I don’t have to play games in order to get him to eat, but I do like to do a little zoom-zoom with the spoon on occasion because there is nothing cuter than a baby smiling and giggling with green peas dripping out of his mouth.  He even likes it when I clean his face—thinks it’s a game.  Silly boy.

Bath time is actually my favorite and if it weren’t for the fact that his skin was so dry I would try to wash him a lot more frequently.  As soon as he figures out it’s time for a bath he gets so excited.  Today he tried to climb into the tub fully dressed.  I finally laid him down and got his sleeper and onesie off, but I had a hard time wrangling the diaper off of him.  He banged his head against his door frame in his glee over bath time.  He likes to slap the water and watch me duck for cover. 

Lest you think that every moment is magical—not all are.  He’s still not a big fan of taking an afternoon nap, even if he is a constant state of eye rubbing.  As a result he is cranky and clingy, but he will not give in!  When times get tough I have often raised my fist in the air and said loudly even to be heard “I will not be defeated!”  Evidently he feels the same way about naps, and I can applaud his stubbornness.   Lately, though, he has fallen asleep while I gave him a bottle and rocked.  Ahhh, that is by far the best feeling in my world!  He doesn’t do it at night—just for his morning nap.  I am so going to miss that when I go back to work!

I still have a few weeks before I return to the work force.  I don’t want to go.  I want to stay home and watch my son grow.  I want to make lots of food and spend my evenings writing.  I find myself wishing there was someone here to take photos of us together.  I need someone to record these moments because I don’t trust my mind to remember the way he looks.  I have trouble imagining what he looked like two months ago, let alone what he will look like in a few years.  I love the look on his face when he finishes a bottle—it is pure happiness with a hint of mischief.  I love that he holds my face while I give him his bottle and runs his fingers through my hair.  I love the look he gives me in the morning when I pop into his room to check on him (yes, the boy is awake before I am nearly every day). 

Thank goodness his arm blocks, uh, some of his essentials. 

I will try to include some video with my next post.

When is enough, enough?

I am going to break away from the usual love-fest that my blogs have become since my son has arrived and look at something that has me shaking my head, wincing, and wondering where it all went wrong.

Last week Nadya Suleman gave birth to 8 surprisingly healthy babies.  I say surprisingly because it is a miracle all of them survived the pregnancy, but there is no way that they will leave the hospital without some sort of impairment as a result of being so premature.  Many multiples suffer from CP, blindness, respiratory problems, etc.  as a result of competing for adequate nutrition and oxygenation in the womb and being delivered early.  It is very taxing to provide the necessary care for these children and I imagine that the first couple of years are the most difficult.

It is being reported that Nadya is angling to sell her story for $2 million and wants diaper sponsorship and wants to start a career as a TV child care expert.  While I would normally be very hesitant to comment on any person’s choice to build a family, I feel her doctors should be held responsible in making some incredibly poor decisions.  I am a single mom and I love my son, but he keeps me very busy.  Nadya is a single, unemployed mom to 14 children under the age of 7, living in a 3 bedroom house with her parents (her mother has publicly come out and said her daughter is crazy and she is moving out). 

Who is going to be taking care of these children?  The better question is, who is going to be paying for these children?  Currently the state of California is paying for the care of her previous 6 children.  Since this story has come out the media love has cooled for Nadya.  If she can’t secure some sort of TV sponsorship and sell her story, will California pick up the  exorbitant cost of these special needs kids?  Personally, I think the physicians should have some fiscal responsibility. 

Obviously it sounds like Nadya has a few screws loose.  The real icing on the cake is that she is in school right now studying to be a mental health counselor.  No offense to my mother and others in her profession, but I think even they are aware that those that need the most help are often drawn to counseling.  Usually schools are pretty good about recognizing these people and weeding them out.

However, I could be wrong.  Perhaps Nadya will make a wonderful mother who will be able to bump Jon & Kate + 8 off TLC.  Maybe she will receive enough endorsements to care for her children adequately and will be able to hire the necessary help to raise these kids.  Maybe Ty Pennington and his building crew will build her a 15 bedroom home so they have room to grow.  Maybe one of the schools there will waive tuition so her children can go to college some day.  Maybe everything will work out and she will prove us all wrong.  I certainly hope so for everyone’s sake.

Either way, I know one thing for sure.  If Jon & Kate + 8 gives me nightmares, there is NO way I will ever watch Nadya + 14. 

Toxic Waste and other trappings of parenthood

Do you remember the Ashley Judd/Morgan Freeman movie “Kiss the Girls” that came out more than a few years ago?  It is every single girl’s worst nightmare—a stalking Casanova who prided himself on knowing her most intimate secrets, including her time of the month because he went through her trash.

Well, I’m pretty sure I won’t be having that issue any time soon.  In fact after I paid my bills tonight I threw away some statements without shredding them (gasp!). 

There is no way delicate way of saying it….the Spud’s shit stinks.  I’m a nurse and even I am gagging.  I suspect it has something to do with the antibiotics he is on which may be creating another issue in his belly.  I’m just hoping it doesn’t lead to another nasty infection.   I’ve lit scented candles, double-bagged, I can still freakin’ smell it. 

Not that you really need to know this, but the Spud has been quite regular since we met in VN six weeks ago (six weeks ago today we became a family—wow, where has the time gone?).  Usually every other day with very little fanfare or smell.  Oh, how times have changed!

Not only that, but I am beginning to think it will be easy to get him potty trained.  For the last week, every single time I put him in the high chair he grabs the side of the tray, grunts, his face turns red and his eyes begin to water.  Within a minute or two my eyes begin to water.  Oh my goodness, nothing that awful should come out of anything that small. 

It reminds me of the last few days we were in Vietnam.  While staying in Hanoi we decided to take a tour of Halong Bay (correction: I decided that long before I ever had a referral—we were going to Halong!).  Anyway, the Spud was his usual charming self and because he is the perfect baby he never pooped when we were out.  Yeah, I know, I am really fortunate. 

Anyway, we were traveling the two or three hours back to Hanoi in a van with the three or four other child-free couples. Well, on the way back everyone is sleeping.  Everyone but the Spud.  Not only is he not sleeping, he dropped the biggest, nastiest poo that I have seen in a long time.  And let me tell you, Vietnamese diapers are not made to handle that kind of waste.  It was so bad that even our guide sitting in the front seat starts to gag quietly and discreetly covered his nose with a finger.  Mom and I are laughing our butts off because it is awful and we know it’s awful and I don’t know why they haven’t pulled off the road or at least cracked a window.  The only ones immune were the couple in the far rear of the van.  Well, we finally did pull in and knowing there was no changing facility I suggested to the other couples that they leave.  Most did, except for the couple immediately behind us.  They said it was fine with them.  Well, I no sooner got his pants pulled off and they decided to seek higher ground, preferably upwind of us.  As they stumbled over themselves to get out of the reach of the green cloud the woman called over her shoulder, “he’s cute, but that is awful”. It truly was awful.  It was everywhere.  Have you ever tried to change a diaper in the dark when the baby has had a blowout?  Yeah, ten minutes later and I still can’t shake the smell.  I start searching and realize it is on me.   I started whining at my mom “get it off of me!” It was that bad. 

Where do we fit in?

Addendum:  Spud’s Uncle Mike came over and shoveled us out.  I went out to help, but after about 10 minutes the Spud was crying so hard I had to stop (oh my goodness—it broke my heart!  His little face was red and covered in snot.  Evidently there is a little more separation anxiety going on than I thought).  Fortunately my neighbor saw Michael shoveling alone and came over and helped him finish. Thank GOD I have the support system that I have!

I have been a single girl for a long enough time to be referred to as a single woman, and now I struggle to see where I we fit in with this new dynamic. 

The dynamic changes somewhat when a woman skips the whole marriage thing and goes directly to family.  I grew up in a conservative Christian family within a conservative Christian community where nice single girls do not have babies by themselves.   Lest you think I am, like, 60 years old I will remind you that small, rural mid-western communities take a long while to catch up to the rest of the country.  After all, this particular town is still proudly sporting a mullet—a look that hasn’t been acceptable since Billy Ray’s Achy Breaky Heart went mainstream.

Although I have grown up and am certainly not a conservative, I still have some conservative values and I attend a Christian church.  I say all this because I am trying to figure out where I fit in.  I was reading this month’s AF magazine and one of the questions posed was how is a single woman with a new baby supposed to do it all without feeling overwhelmed?  Their advice was to reach out in your circles of friends and create new ones through a variety of resources—including faith based ones.  I am fortunate that I do not feel overwhelmed (at least not while I am pretending to be a stay at home mom for a while).  We just don’t have single moms at my church nor have I been able to identify any divorced moms that I might be able to reach out to. 

I enjoy my church more than any church I have ever attended, but I struggle to see where the Spud and I will fit in in the long haul.  There aren’t any adopted children at his church, but we do have a number of Asian families that attend (mostly Korean).  I don’t know any other single moms so there aren’t any children without fathers that Spud will be able to identify with.  They are really trying to increase the number of events for theirs members to socialize in, but I struggle even there.  I am not over 40 (one such group) and I am not married with children, and while I could attend the 20/30 year singles group, I am hardly a single any more.  I am 1 + 1/2.

So, does anyone have any advice for me? 

Contrary to what I thought, Spud has not drastically changed me or my life.  What I mean is that all the things I did before, I still do, I just bring him along.  I am very fortunate that he is up for anything and enjoys hanging out with people.  I think I have mentioned this before, but I will say it again, that boy will skip naps and food just to hang out with people (that was the reason for our HORRIBLE flight home from VN—he wouldn’t sleep or eat for the duration). 

The Spud and I have been snowed in for the last three days.  Yep, we have been stuck in the house since Monday afternoon.  There is more than a foot of snow outside my door and I today I can’t even see my car tires.  Unfortunately because of cold-induced asthma I can’t do a darn thing about it.  My dad bought us tickets to a Home Show on Saturday, but unless someone volunteers to dig me out, we are effectively stuck until it gets warm enough to melt. 

The Spud doesn’t seem to mind.

 

Those little “bumps” in the snow are my outdoor lights.

 

This little face kills me!  He is just so beautiful!