real

It's really going to happen.

Yesterday, I just felt so much lighter. I know much of that was my sw visit. I had been concerned about to going to court and swearing I lived where I didn't live...and getting caught in a lie...and having the judge deny my adoption...

With my rock star visit yesterday, all of that concern just vanished! (Agency has yet to acknowledge this good news, I suspect, because their mouths are full of crow.)

The other thing that makes this real, more real than the toys and dresses and things that have been accumulating for years now, arrived yesterday.

I remember shopping for a wedding dress with my friend Lara. She tried on beautiful dresses, including the dress that was just perfect for her. And she was fine--happy, but in a sort of impersonal way. Then they put a veil on her and happy tears came flooding out. The veil made it real.

Here's what's made things real:

I've had the privilege of buying dolls, first dolls, even, for my friends' children and my niece. I've been looking forward to doing the same for my daughter. But I refused to buy d2b's doll until I knew she was coming home. I wanted it to look like her. So I waited. Yesterday, her doll arrived! I even had time to place it in the cradle before the sw came.

Now, every time I pass by Sasha's door and see her doll sleeping in the cradle, I smile. It's real.

Yes, that's her sweet, dainty room--without being pink. Oh--the doll's blanket is pink (not unpacked in this photo) and there's a pink pillow on the green couch. I still need to sew that slipcover. Photographs don't do justice to this room. I love the arch in here! It keeps it feeling cozy. On either side of the arch, the ceiling soar. There are floaty, white cotton curtains on the window at the foot of the bed. The sill is more than wide enough to curl up on and watch the happenings in the courtyard. That's my beloved bed in there--one I shopped ages to find. It came with me from the US. But, I thought that when we do move from Russia, it might be comforting for Sasha to have the same bed in our new house, so I've given it to her. It's oak with a spoon-carved daisy. On the wall across from the dresser, where you can see them while you're lying in bed, are three large photos of the two of us from trip one. The six little pictures are Monet prints from a calendar and bits of pretty wrapping paper. Next to the dresser is a large, oak-colored wardrobe. Above the little couch is the big Noah's ark print that I love. This room could use some wall stickers, couldn't it? I wish I were able to paint.

I am trying to decide if Sasha's doll will come with up on our pick-up trip. If the orphanage will let Sasha bring her elephant with her, then I think the doll should wait at home. The elephant will be familiar (I hope) and smell like the orphanage. (Sasha's Elephant could be the sequel to Mishka: An Adoption Tale.) But, if the orphanage keeps the elephant, then I'd love to have her doll for the time in Moscow...and on the plane rides. Right now, I'm contemplating sacrificing valuable suitcase space for the doll and just keeping her hidden if the elephant makes it out of the orphanage. What fun things to ponder!

rock stars

My social workers are rock stars.

My friend, Galina, called my Russian sw today, at 1:30 p.m. and explained that the school had moved me to a new flat and I needed a homevisit as fast as possible; that a child was waiting.

My sw came at 3:00. That was barely enough time to drive home from Galina's! After 30+ minutes in the car, I found a great parking space close to my building. (That is a miracle in and of itself at this time of day and year.) I made a mad dash to the shop for a bottle of wine to give my rock star sw as a thank you gift (and believe me, I was THANKFUL!), tidied up, cleaned the cat box, changed clothes, took out the trash and found her waiting on my front step fifteen minutes early.

AND she said it didn't matter if my apartment was not clean (I was pleading "new flat" before she entered). All that mattered was that my baby had a place to sleep.

She asked me about Sasha and, after looking at her sweet picture, told me she was a good, kind girl. ;>

In as long as it took me to copy the statement requesting the visit (that she'd prepared and brought with her) she looked around, complimented the size of the rooms, and was finished. We LOVE her!! Her report will be ready Monday. Monday! Or maybe Tuesday.

AND, my US/international sw (who lives in Germany) said she'll take the information I sent her today (who did the visit, size of flat, etc.) and plug it into her update without even waiting for a translated copy! (I'll send her one, nach.) That means we can be finished!

I have to re-do my fingerprints (tomorrow) and type up a letter to accompany my lease (in Russian) for my principal to sign (also tomorrow) and then...that's it. ВСЁ!

If the judge asks for more, we can get it without looking shifty.

We already gave a shout out to Barbara Parker, who is a bureaucratic rock star.

The final rock star in today's post--Dr. Victoria Khoudoulis who did Sasha's in-country exam. She's already written the letter that I need to get Sasha's visa and handed it off to my rep in-region. (For the record, this was my call, too. Agency still is hemming and hawing about what to do.)

It's like We are the World or Band Aid or something around here. Rock stars everywhere you look! (OT: Anyone else find it ironic that Band Aid was mostly Brit musicians...and the Brits call band aids plasters?)

tick tock addendum

Called my agency and told them I was proceeding as outlined in the previous post.

They thought this was a good idea.

tick tock

If my agency would PLEASE just make up their minds about what I need to do, I could start doing it.

Yes, everything is finished if we don't mention my move. But, I think the judge will want to see a lease. And, while I know there is "game-playing" involved in Russian adoption, this pretend-you-haven't-moved feels too high stakes to me.

I think we should submit my new lease (agency actually asked me to get a lease without an address...umm...not possible).
I think we need a new homevisit and two new homestudies.
I think we need to get the paperwork with my address on it re-done. (WHY is there an address on my psych eval??)
I think I should go to the region, visit Sasha, and re-do all the petition/registration/etc. forms that have my address on them IN RUSSIAN, in front of a Russian notary. Then, the papers don't have to fly to the US, be notarized and apostilled, flown back and translated. They'd just be finished.

I have suggested all of this. Multiple times.

However, no one seems to care what I think. And so we're wasting another day. By the time they e-mail me today, even if it's morning there, it'll be too late here to call my sw and try to schedule a visit.

I'm almost to the point of e-mailing and telling them that if I don't have a plan of action from them by tomorrow morning (MY time) I'm starting to move ahead as I see fit. Almost. We'll see how the day pans out.

Tick-tock.

eta: I did e-mail them.

And don't freak out about the new blog color, this color and charcoal grey are two of my favorites. I had just had enough of the pink. This is much more peaceful to me.

I just wish the header stretched...or centered...or something...

more adventures of car

I travelled to meet Sasha a month ago today.

I've been meaning to post my latest car adventure for you car fans, but...

I left home to go and meet Sasha a month ago today.

When I came back from meeting her, it was late Friday night. The next day was Scarlet Sails (go look in FAQ on the left if you missed what that was). I knew that cars on my street would be towed, so, I called my principal to arrange to meet up and get my car keys. I'd left them with him so that he could rescue my car if need be. (Foreshadowing or irony?)

I passed my car on the way to his apartment. The street was clearing, but by no means clear. The tow truck was nowhere in sight. By the time I'd walked the block to his apartment, chatted a bit about my trip, heard about the end of school, and walked back...yes, faithful readers, my car was gone.

I wasn't really fussed. I mean, this is par for the course, right? I'd find it.

Well, I didn't. I looked on Sunday in ever-increasing spirals, checking all the places it's been taken before. Nothing.

But, I still wasn't fussed. I knew there was a database on a website somewhere that the secretary at school could access.

So, Monday morning, I walked into school. We joked about my missing car and she started looking online. And making phone calls. Several phone calls. And no one knew where my car was. It wasn't logged as being towed.

We called the consulate. Shortly there was news--my car had been towed and left not far from the consulate. It seemed an odd choice...crossing some busy streets, but within the realm of possibility given my red plates. Oh, and given that this is Russia.

I walked to the metro and rode over to that neck of the woods. I walked up. And down. And around. And up and down again. And again. I was in the background of so many of one couple's wedding photos (The registry office is down the street from the consulate. You're bound to hear shouts of "Bitter!" as the guests encourage the couple to kiss--and make life sweeter--whenever you're nearby.) as I scoured the area. I'd been told that a consulate employee had spotted my car.

I called the consulate and told my friend in the motorpool that my car wasn't there. He was a bit flustered and went to find out what happened. Well, we found out at about the same time. I found a car with a similar license number (one letter different) parked on that street. It was little. And white. Sigh.

So, I walked and metro-ed back to school. The consulate encouraged us to report the car stolen. The school employees wondered if it would be better to wait to see if it turned up (because I would need one of them to go with me to handle the police department). We decided to go that day. I was actually quite curious to see what it was like. And, if my car was stolen, was looking forward to buying a newer, smaller one with the insurance money.

The police station was a tiny little hole-in-the-wall, hidden in a courtyard. We rang the bell and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally they buzzed us in. And we waited. It was just a tiny room, with the damp smell of an old basement and a table with two chairs in the corner. The desk officer was behind a plexiglass partition, dropped down a few steps.

Mostly, we waited. We waited until they would hear our business. (They knew who I was so I suspect the consulate had called.) We waited until an officer came to talk to us. We waited while he sent people out to patrol for my car. We waited for over an hour. People came in--two homeless men, three women who lived up to the bad stereotype of "Gypsies" that St. P has, two young men who seemed to be considering a career in...law enforcement (for lack of a better term)--and were taken to a back room. Officers came and sat at the table and filled out reports (about the homeless men). Other officers came and went, their guns (not handguns or pistols, but guns) apparent. And it was apparent their young owners were quite fond of them. There were wanted posters on the wall--some for runaways.

Then, the first officer (who my companion said was now resigned to actually doing some work) came and took us on patrol. Deciding that his car was too small, we took ours. Then, we just drove around the city looking for my car. WE could've done that! Well, we could've if my companion that day had been willing to do that. So, actually, it was a good thing the officer initiated this ridealong.

We were having a hard time finding my car and started debating whether we should do the paperwork (ah, that was the hesitation!) to report it stolen. The argument against that was if the car turned up, I'd be unable to drive it for months as undoing the paperwork would be difficult. Before we had to make the decision, CAR! We found it parked near the circus.

So there you go. Not much charm in this retelling. Not much emotional investment. I think they're all invested elsewhere at the mo. But it was an experience nonetheless.

saturday nothingness

I went shopping early this morning so as to beat the traffic and be back in time to get a parking space near my flat. Well, early here means I left by 8:00 on a Saturday. That's early for this sleep-in town.

I carefully planned my route so as not to drive by either the militsia guy who stops me for no reason despite my red plates or the one who pulled me over for a valid, though unknown, offense.

I got most of my shopping sorted. But I didn't find denture cleaner. NO! I need it to clean my shower head. I looked in the toothpaste aisle. Wouldn't you think it'd be there? Nothing tablet-y or fizzy or in a box with a picture of teeth.

Do they have dentures in Russia?

(Yes, I'll try hot vinegar on the shower head now. It's next on my list. Denture cleaner just sounded fizzy.)

(btw, one of our Estonian girls at school has the name "Talii" which, apparently, means "dentures" in Korean. It made my little SM giggle everytime she said it last year.)

(I'm finding it very interesting, linguistically speaking, that I wrote "has the name" instead of "is named". Very passive and Russian of me. Linguistically speaking.)

back to our regular programming

Well, those few days we had thinking everything was finally taken care of, that all the paperwork was completed were nice, weren't they? I enjoyed them. I was excited. I was counting down the days until it was likely that everything would be translated, submitted and I'd have a court date.

Now, NOW new agency is realizing my lease is up. No kidding. This, THIS is why I asked if we needed to update everything with my new apartment! (Do you ever feel like people dismiss you, thinking they know best, when, really, they DON'T?) I have no clue what they'll ask for now. Two new home studies and a new rental agreement, I'd guess.

Hopefully, my Russian sw can come quickly and do the visit. (It's summer, and everyone is on holiday, but we can still hope.) That visit can be used for my hs update (which Jane JUST completed...and will have to change). But I think this easily adds another month. MONTH!

New agency asking for two more bits of paperwork--one of which I sent in May and the other I will never have.

triple check

Barbara Parker, that jewel amongst bureaucrats, e-mailed me yesterday to tell me she'd done my child abuse clearance and the report had been mailed. Check!

The embassy in Moscow e-mailed today to say my FBI check is back and clear. Double check!

AND, the embassy in Moscow seems to be saying that a letter from the doctor *may* be enough to negate the need for a new visa. Triple check!

I sent a package to Sasha today--letter, photos, coloring book, stickers, matching game. It cost about $1.25 and should be there in ten days. I feel better with that tangible reminder on its way to her.

Now I must conquer the summer lethargy that's overtaken me (can't do anything without needing a nap afterwards and am all achy) so that I can clear away the last few boxes. Well...maybe tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day. And after that triple play, I don't have any paperwork to chase!

have, need, like

Let me just clarify, especially before this post, that *I* am not a chronic pain in the neck. I *have* a chronic pain in the neck. ;>

Do you know that Ann Marie first came up with the virtual shower idea while she was here in St. Petersburg meeting her little one? And now Alexander isn't so little...and he's been home for two years!

I'm so grateful to Ann Marie and Debbie for organizing my shower. (Ummm, you're all invited. Check here for news. But I'm not. Checking there.) I was so excited about registering for my shower. I didn't have a bridal shower, wedding shower, housewarming shower...or any shower (that didn't involve water) so this was exciting. I had images of me with the gun zapping items in Target.

Instead, I got completely overwhelmed. My good friend Julie got online with me and got overwhelmed as well. We couldn't find things that I needed and would be easy to ship to Russia.

So, rather than "register" Debbie suggested I let you know what we have (maybe you'll see some holes...and everyone keeps asking) what we need (that I'll be buying here because it's just too heavy to ship) and what we like. I'll give you some guidelines and turn you loose. While my friends (um, Kerry--who always gets me the perfect gifts) tell me I'm hard to shop for, I think, like Sally Albright (to whom I've been compared, oh, once or twice. every day.) that I just know what I like.

Harry: There are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.
Sally: Which one am I?
Harry: You're the worst kind; you're high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance.
Sally: I don't see that.
Harry: You don't see that? "Waiter, I'll begin with a house salad, but I don't want the regular dressing. I'll have the balsamic vinegar and oil, but on the side. And then the salmon with the mustard sauce, but I want the mustard sauce on the side." On-the-side is a very big thing for you.
Sally: Well, I just want it the way I want it.
Harry: I know; high maintenance.

Oi. The have is long. Let's do it backwards. Let's start with like:

I like natural products and fibers, not synthetics.
I like Sasha in winter colors (I think... but I'm a winter so I may be biased). Cool colors, jewel tones...not pastels and not warm colors. No peaches and yellows. Cool, deep red was great.
Sasha likes dresses (me, too) and hearts and stickers and puzzles.
I like many of the clothes by Hanna Andersson (but not their fall preview) and Mini Boden.
I like little girls to look like little girls.

I don't like Disney.
I don't like *any* characters.
I don't like logos.
I'm not keen on electronics.
I don't like markers.
I don't like "prostitot" clothing.
I don't like frilly and fussy.
I don't like light-up shoes.

If you're desperate to buy something to send, let me think.
If you long to buy little girl clothes, I understand completely. ;>
Please don't buy us anything smaller than a size 120 or 7.

I found a few things on Amazon and made a wish list.
We could use some more bath toys.
I like the Fisher Price Noah's Ark--if Mrs. Noah is there.
There are lots of animals to go with them.
The nativity set might be good.
We could use some 12-24 piece puzzles.
Alphabet, numbers, colors, shapes...
a potholder loom and loops
simple craft items
jump rope
hats and gloves and mittens and scarves

Trips to the circus, zoo, oceanarium, puppet theatre, etc.

There are a few things we still need:
A rocking chair (very hard to find here)
baby bottles, pacifiers and sippy cups (for therapeutic play)
a mini trampoline
a bike
roller blades
helmet and pads
shoes (I don't want to buy them until she's home. Feet grow so fast!)
winter coat
an easel
water colors
kid cd or mp3 player
balls

Sasha has:
a bed and dresser
linens (sheet sets, towels sets, comforter, duvets)
short- and long-sleeved dresses (about 30 in sizes 100-110 alone)
pants, jeans, sweat pants
long- and short-sleeved t-shirts, tops
cardigans, sweaters
lots of underwear (about 30 pairs each of sizes 4-6 and 6-8)
socks, tights, camisoles
pajamas and slippers
a possible winter coat, but I think it will be too small
a futon couch (that I need to recover)
stuffed animals (so many already!)
a bitty baby from American girl
a cradle for her toys
games (candyland, chutes and ladders, sorry, jenga, memory, parcheesi, some russian games, jack straws)
some puzzles
a brio-like train set from ikea
a floor mat that has roads to drive on
a car and tow truck (;>)
play dishes
wooden blocks
lacing cards
jacks
wooden farm animal stringing beads (big hit on trip one)
cards: uno, alphabet flash cards
lots of board books and picture books
coloring books and stickerbooks
crayons and colored pencils
finger paint
bead kit, craft kits to make slippers, purse, picture frame
fairy wings and a tiara
pattern blocks
a make-it bake-it butterfly
bubbles
princess leia (polly pocket size w/ clothes)
another little 4" doll
foam shapes and pon poms and glitter
play dough (and a mama who knows how to make it)
play clock
dvd's, mostly sesame street and veggietales
cd's: Steve Green, Raffi, Jim Valley, Peter, Paul and Mommy, Kenny Loggins, Little Einstein (from Rachael), a Russian one that is too rocky-poppy, some books on cd
toothbrush, flouride rinse
hairbrush, comb, clips, headbands
ponytail holders, and some ribbons (won't need for a while)
tylenol, motrin, advil, benedryl, triaminic
neosporin, band-aids
thermometer
vitamins
lotions, bubble bath
a mama kit (from julianne) with first aid-y things
a wooden adjustable-height chair
a car seat
plastic cups, plates, and bowls; little forks
two cats
me

Does that help?
Any questions, fire away!

I'm excited and overwhelmed at the amount of joy that is being shared because of my little d2b. I'm really looking forward to my shower! Let's eat, drink and be merry. Come rejoice with this one who is rejoicing.

Happy fourth!

I can't wait until we're both wearing these:




The flag shirts are for both of us on the plane ride home. (We'll keep them covered until we're on the plane--or at least until we've cleared passport control leaving Russia.) After she's cleared immigration in the US, she'll truly be an "American Sweetheart".

angels and weirdness

That title reminds me of the quote about Russia being the land of heroes and madmen.

First, let us pause for a moment and give thanks for Barbara Parker. In the midst of e-mails like this from unhelpful colleagues (I suspect they're subordinates with little power and unhappy personal lives.) of hers:

I did not respond to your first email The instructions you received initially were incorrect. You cannot fax your request, it must be mailed and have the original signature. There are no exceptions to this requirement in the Ohio Administrative Code.

Barbara Parker sent me this:

I'm acknowledging receipt of your faxed request for searches of Ohio's Central Registry on Child Abuse & Neglect for your name. Your request included all appropriate documentation to proceed with searches, except one: our policies require that your original signature must be on file with our office.

I can relax the requirement somewhat if you are able to scan a document containing your original signature and return it to me as an e-mail attachment. You can use the document you faxed to me (there is no need to include the IDs) or you can write a statement, "Please conduct a search of the central registry for my name," and sign it.

Otherwise, we will need to obtain this information through U.S. mail, Fed Ex or other delivery service.

Please let me know if there are any questions. I'll do my best to accommodate your request!

Thank you!
Barbara

This is the happy ending to weeks of misinformation and rude bureaucrats. I scanned her the signature last night and she's doing the search early next week. This, and my FBI prints, which should also be in early next week, are all we need to update my homestudy!

(Christie Llyod, who used to work at the embassy in Moscow was another angel-in-bureaucrat's clothing. She helped me out immeasurably three years ago...with just a little common sense. She was amazed that I, and another pre-adoptive family she'd recently helped, were so grateful for what, to her, was a little thing. Little things are important.)

Now we just need to sort out the visa issue. "Just".

Frankly, I am not too bothered by this. I need to convince my agency to go ahead and submit the paperwork for a court date as is. If USCIS Moscow won't give me a visa, I'd think I could just take Sasha home to St. P while things (new hs, new I-600A, new I-717H) get sorted. Of course, that's a little common sensical of me. Danger, danger.

I should be out paper-gathering for that visa appeal, but woke up with two three-inch red streaks on my shoulder. It looked like traveling poison from a bite. It looked like this:

So you got a post, instead. Maybe two. There's no bite, no rash. I didn't eat anything new. It doesn't itch or burn or feel warm to the touch. It's not changing size (that's what the black marks are for). But, it's red and it's weird. An ache is spreading and I'm dizzy. And WebMD (always a little alarmist) says I should seek immediate medical attention. So, rather than run around the city, I'm headed to a new doctor this afternoon. We'll see how that goes.

Exciting stuff, eh?

eta: Having been seen by a gp (American clinic), a neurologist, and been x-rayed, the diagnosis is a disease called...

Chronic Pain in the Neck.

Seriozna. Seriously. It is exacerbated by stress and lack of sleep. The treatment includes (basically) an injection (ya nehachoo-I don't want), advil, tylenol, flex-all and massage. Also, less stress and more sleep. (Say what you will about Russian doctors, this neurologist was GOOD!)

And the marks...well...by the time the doctor saw them they were less red, more brownish and more diffused. Diagnosis: too heavy shopping bags carried on that shoulder. (It was only groceries.)

So I'm going to take some advil and a nap. And check into delivery options for my upcoming big purchases.

bitter irony

Does my agency,
who is closed from now until next Tuesday,
not realize that by closing
for a week
for Independence Day
they are postponing Sasha's independence day?

And now I can't get any answers to any questions.

I'm going shopping.

newsy

Internet is back! Hooray.

I'm moved in and mostly unpacked. (Yes, yes... pix when I'm ALL unpacked.)

I've beaten the boat noise by moving into Sasha's room. See? Co-sleeping already. ;>

I'm overwhelmed by the enthusiastic response to my shower. I never got to have a bridal shower, wedding shower, baby shower...housewarming shower so this is very exciting. I'm a little gobsmacked. I don't quite know what to register FOR. I've got so many things...but I guess we just register for the future. Right? I'll do some dreaming. And consulting. Maybe in addition to registering I can give you some basic guidelines for those of you who like to shop off the registry. (That's easy--no Disney, no characters, no synthetics, nothing too cutesy. I think she's a winter. Yea! Me, too! But we won't know until she's home and has lost that orphanage pallor.)

Paperwork. Bleh. My agency is going back and forth on whether or not we need to update my hs for USCIS. The latest word is yes--and get a new visa. If we do, that's a big update. It will take a long time to complete. Special needs adoptions need special paperwork. (Came up with that gem of a definition very late last night.) BUT the memo USCIS sent out to agencies in March (I have a copy) says that a doctor's exam can overrule the dx on the paperwork. I think my doctor's exam does that and have e-mailed USCIS to ask for their opinion.

My current hs update for Russia is 12 pages long! I thought it would be a page...or maybe two listing the things that have changed (salary, saving, address, special needs) that would be attached to my current hs. Instead, she's re-written a lot of things that haven't changed (personal history, why I'm adopting, plans for after d2b is home, guardianship, etc.).

Twelve pages will take a long time to translate.

I e-mailed my agency to ask their sw (who approves all the hs) what we need--two pages or twelve. She didn't know. Let me repeat--She didn't know. She didn't even understand WHY we were updating. (insert controlled scream) We're updating only because THE AGENCY TOLD ME TO UPDATE!

To answer your questions, it's not likely that I'll be visiting her during this wait. If she were close by, I'd be there every day! But she's hours and hours away. Russia's a big country. Imagine if you were adopting from another state. You wouldn't be able to visit every weekend. It takes longer to get to her than it does to fly from New York to London.

And, she really doesn't know what's going on at all. Having me come and go may be worse.

If it looks like court will be more than eight weeks, I'll go visit once more. Probably. If it's going to be soon, I probably won't.

That's the newsy-ness here.

(Sorry for no pix. A friend got on the blog without accepting his invitation. It makes me nervous.)

from ann marie and debbie

Blog: shower4kate.wordpress.com

User: shower4kate

Password: zeus969

(I'm so excited about this!!!)

(Am I allowed there or not? Abstaining for now...)

beautiful

There used to be a picture here.
It was of my beautiful Sasha. And me.
I'll put it back sometime.

That should keep you busy until I'm back...

surprise, surprise

no internet at the new house. i can watch my sling, but can't open firefox or safari. IT from school is coming monday (fingers crossed) to sort it out.

i've got a great car story for you.

handprint

"You'll be with me, like a handprint on my heart."
-Wicked

her name...

is, and will continue to be, Sasha. She's Alexandra. Middle name disclosed after court!

Having thought I might keep her name as her middle name and add a new first name (Sasha is neither one of my favorites nor one of the can't -stands...except I'm worried someone might mistake me for an Obama supporter. Nah. Never happen.), I was surprised at how unquestioningly I kept her name. Really, as people keep saying who have done the same thing, I feel like it's all she has. And I can't take that away from her.

Not judging--just how it played out for us.

Now, if in time she wants to change it, well and good.

And we can always Americanize the nickname.

See? That was worth signing on to a private blog.

Answering comments:
Jim, of *course* families are included. And thank you and your family for your prayers.

Melissa, yes, it's a new USCIS requirement. If your paperwork says that you're requesting "minor, correctable health conditions" and you are referred a child whose paperwork indicates otherwise, there are now visa problems. Now you have to either have paperwork changed (including a hs update) to match or get a doctor to do a private evaluation and say that actually the issues are minor and correctable. We're hoping that the doctor who examined her will do that for us. Hoping.

so, here we are.

As soon as everyone has sworn the oath of non-disclosure we can get started. Please leave your own oon-d in the comments with a suitably traumatic consequence for breaking it. (Katie, I suggest something with birds.)Seriously. Go comment.

My blog was in a recent Aeroflot in-flight magazine. It made me nervous. It got me some snarky comments.

So, I wrote to Aeroflot and asked them not to quote me again. I put that completely useless pseudo-copyright on the top. And I was still nervous. So, now we're private.

One reason for privacy--I moved yesterday. And new agency is saying to just.say.nothing. That makes me a little nervous...especially because the notary in-region was skeptical about my address (which actually has the wrong apartment listed...but it's the same on every piece of paper, so I'm not saying anything about that, either) and changed the wording to say "She says she live at xyz". Nice, huh?

But re-doing MORE paperwork at this point might make me weep. So, I'm taking their advice and saying nothing.

Here we are:

I'm in the yellow building, above the (overpriced) produkti. I use the door without a sign or awning.

It's a much nicer layout for d2b. But, it's NOISY with the boats on the canal and there was zero water pressure this morning. Also, there is no track for a shower curtain. It's a wet room...but I'm not really keen on that.

Still, it's light, has real hardwood floors and is just a much pleasanter place. Pix once I've unpacked (give me few days).

a little privacy, please

Friends, I'm temporarily taking this blog private shortly. If I "know" you, you can look for an invite in the next couple of days. (Don't panic if you don't hear from me until the weekend. It's a little busy here...)

This might be precipitous, but I'm just feeling like I'd rather be safe than sorry.

Faithful lurkers, please keep checking back. Once we've had court and d2b is home I'll make it public again. I do want to you to be able to share in what it takes to get us down this homestretch...but I don't want to do anything that might jeopardize actually BRINGING her home. I'm sure you wouldn't want that either.

Hoping to be back soon...
Kate

so now...

So, what's next? Well, first I need to find my car. (Yep. Towed again. And I can't find it!) Then...

PAPERWORK!

D2b has a "diagnosis" in her paperwork that doesn't match up with my paperwork. We asked if they'd change hers, and they won't. So, I have to change mine.

I've had new fingerprints done (they'll be back in two weeks), a new psych update written (notarized copy to the agency on Wednesday), new bank details notarized (yea, agency) and am waiting for a new child abuse clearance. THEN we can update the US hs (and maybe the Russian hs, too) and my visa. Her visa.

THEN, when that's all done, my papers and all her papers will be presented to the court. If it's all okay, a court date will be issued. If it's not, more paperwork will be requested. (During the summer, there is only one judge working at a time, so things slow down. But, I'm still hoping we're home before my birthday in mid-September. It's possible.) Once I have my court date, I'll have my eight doctor medical exam done here. (There are no gp's in Russia, only specialists. So, to prove I'm healthy, I have to see a cadre of doctors. Fortunately I can do this at my local clinic.)

Then we have court. Then we wait two weeks. Then we fly to the US. Then we come home!

Please pray for my little one while she waits. I really don't think she understands why I'm gone. Pray for her to be safe, for someone to love her, for peace and reassurance. Pray that she'll remember, that this doesn't break the fragile trust that was forming. Pray that knowing she has a Mama who is coming back for her will give her strength and confidence.

Please pray for the people completing my paperwork and hers. Pray for the judge. And pray for a quick reunion.

Do you know what? D2b came into the orphanage the same time I changed agencies.

hers and mine

Have you read the book, Two Little Girls? I read it ages ago and, quite frankly, can't remember if it was good or not. I do vividly remember thinking that I hoped her children, especially her second daughter, never read that book.

So, I'm cautious about sharing.

I've read so many stories, and have become vf's with families who've brought home little six- and seven-year-old girls from Russia. After a settling-in period, which seems to often include some very physical moments, these girls hit the ground running.

Their backgrounds, however, are quite different to my little bunny's. We're not going to be running any time soon. We're going to be having a nice leisurely walk. And it's a walk I'm so looking forward to taking! But, I'm not sure that it's one I'm going to be blogging. We'll see.

I'm going to be discreet from now until court. You'll just have to bear with me and know that it's all worth it. ;>

Let's see...

She is not at all what I expected.
We are perfect for each other.

• I'm a teacher.
• I was a psych major...until I realized all I could do was go to grad school...which would postpone my acting career even further.
• I ended up with a psych minor.
• My focus was on children--developmental psychology.
• I've had an interest in, and done much research about, the challenges d2b has in front of her.
• I've got lots of clothes in her size. ;>
  

Everyone who sees us--the examining doctor, my agency staff, the sw, the director of the orphanage thinks we're a good match, one that is more than good, one that is deep and strong and true. My child-charming skills, while not a surprise to me, were a source of amazement to many onlookers. The sw was very impressed that I was "a professional".

It wasn't until the second day that I knew. It was then that I realized that if I'd prayed for the right child to be referred to me first, then I'd best open my eyes to why this was the right child, instead of worrying about why I might not be the right Mama for her. It was that second morning, when I was walking to get a Coke before we left, that I realized I couldn't really put a limit on my obedience. I am adopting because I know it is what I'm supposed to do. So, who am I do say that I'll obey up to a point but no further? That actually made me laugh. I was much calmer going in the second day. And I knew when I saw her again that she was mine, and I was hers.

Even though I didn't know it at the time, I started being her Mama about five minutes after they brought her to me, a scared little bird, so worried about what to do and determined to do things correctly, and then proceeded to read her history out in front of her. I was livid!

She understands my Russian. She listens to me, and turns to me, instead of to the translator. (After my second translator's first day, which was the second day, I had to get her to back off and stop trying to push things. It isn't her job to bond with d2b or to run a dog-and-pony show. And, frankly, what she thought was important I didn't. I gave her the cameras to keep her busy. It helped...but she's not a great photographer.)

She is more agreeable than any child I've ever met. Ever. She does everything willingly and wholeheartedly.

She loves balloons and balls. She like puzzles and games and drawing. She likes hearts and stickers. We had so much fun playing with some wooden farm animals I found. (We made the goat a cow and then a dog. There was no dog. How can there not be a sabaka?)

She has never had a choice and doesn't really know how to make one. She will choose between two activities, but was very perplexed when we asked her what color shoes I should bring her. Several colors were suggested and she was still perplexed. When I told her, "Mama will choose?" I got a big grin (oh, those dimples), an emphatic nod and a big sigh of relief.

She's figured out what makes me smile (like her dramatic, tak, tak, tak --kind of like "so" and kind of just a thinking, tongue-clucking noise--while she's thinking or looking for an answer) and does it purposely. She mirrors the way I'm sitting. If my chin is in my hand, hers will be moments later.

She has scars over both eyebrows that look like injuries that should have been stitched and weren't.

She is a teeny-tiny little peanut. She's 111 cm tall and weighs...not nearly enough!

She is very precise in everything that she does. She is eager to please and to do things the. right. way. She looks into my eyes and just searches.

She has the sweetest voice, the deepest dimples, the most gorgeous eyes.

She cried every day when I left. This, her panic the first day, her inconsolablity the second, her determination the third and her melting into my hug on the last day broke my heart four different ways.

I left her a stuffed elephant (what else?) that I'd been sleeping with for weeks so that it would smell like me (the best connector to memory). Elephants never forget. They promised to let her sleep with it. My arms are so empty without that elephant.

She loved her photo book about her new life--home, cats, school, friends and family. She likes that she will have three uncles. She likes her toys and her dresses. She was excited about the circus. She said she will throw the mouse for Mia. (Mia is thrilled.) But her absolute favorite page, the one she poured over every time we looked at it, was a page with photos of the two of us. She was just amazed. We decorated the book with stickers. She was ready to go home on Thursday--and I was so ready to take her! They said they would read her book with her.

She is mine and I am hers.

She needs to come home. Now.

in the pink

Yep. D2b likes pink.

Hoping she like periwinkle, too. ;>

slideshow help?

I have a slideshow, created on my mac in iPhoto that is saved as a Quicktime .mov file. I'd like to upload it using blogger's video button, but can't figure out how. It just says it's loading FOR.EV.ER.

Any help out there?

"ten minutes ago"

I had this all preloaded to post Monday, but I wasn't singing it until last night. And this morning. And now...



Ten minutes ago, I saw you.
I looked up when you came through the door.
My head started reeling.
You gave me the feeling
The room had no ceiling or floor.

Ten minutes ago, I met you,
And we murmured our "How-do-you-do's?"
I wanted to ring out the bells
And fling out my arms
And to sing out the news:

I have found her!
She's an angel,
With the dust of the stars in her eyes.

We are dancing.
We are flying!
And she's taking me back to the skies.

(Please excuse Lesley Ann Warren. Dreadful. Almost as bad as Audrey as Eliza or Whatserface as Guinevere. But Stuart Damon is so joyful!)

D2b has nearly-black hair and golden-brown eyes.
And dimples.
She's a little peanut, can be a frightened rabbit, and is certainly a survivor.

More about the trip once I'm home. But, I thought you'd want to know.

for cuteness' sake

and for no other reason. So don't go thinking there's some clue here (seriously--I.don't.know.anything.):



I love how "lmno" came out. ;>

Too busy to even take a pretty picture for you. Leaving on Saturday.

mouths of babes

On the way out the door today (I'm not sure what started this) one of my big-hearted students (whose brother I taught last year and whose younger sibs I have next year) earnestly told me,

"Miss X, there are so many important things you need to find out about her. Like her birthday. Can you imagine if you didn't know that?"

"You're right, Kealan. That is important. That's probably the first thing I'll find out."

"No." he replied emphatically, halting in his homeward journey and facing me in all seriousness. "First," he continued emphatically, "you've gotta know her name."

* * * * * * * * * *

Former students (current fifth graders) were wondering about d2b while I was on playground duty this morning (a duty I love). One of the girls asked me if I had a picture of her in my mind. I told her that I tried really hard not to so that I wouldn't be disappointed. The girls went on to say that they have been imagining her. They think she will have big, brown (or blue) eyes and shoulder-length light brown hair. They think she will be rather petite (or not). Her name is likely Olya or Nastia (or something really unusual for a Russian name). This varies depending on whether you asked Vani (or Neta).

preparing myself

So, let's see... I have

• booked an apartment
• made train reservations
• decided on what activities to bring for our visits (beads, matching game, puzzle, paper & markers, nail polish, balloons, eye-spy book, sticker book, activity book)
• looked through my stash of clothes
  
• updated almost all of my pre-court paperwork (still need sw to do her thing and to get my fingerprints done. again. waiting for cards to arrive as non-card prints didn't work last time.)
• arranged for a doctor to visit the orphanage on the second day
• lost my watch and lens cap (they're the ever-helpful "somewhere")
• mentally packed

I'm keeping track of everything on spiral bound index cards. This is brilliant (and not just because I thought of it). It lets me have multiple lists--to do, to bring, for agency, for sw, for school, to buy--but keep them all in one place. I love it.

According to the genius-spiral-bound-index-card-organizational-system I still need to

• do a little shopping (a specific game, a new lens cap, possibly a digital video recorder)
• confirm cat care
• grocery shop for this week
  
• clean
• put away laundry
• wrap up the school year (BIG to do there...field trip, sports day, game day, math assessment, grading, report cards, good-bye party, make photo dvd's, get pillow cases for the kids to sign for leaving students, phone and in-person interviews of prospective students...)
• meet with the movers for them to see how much stuff I have
• hand off some orphanage donations to V--and pack the rest in my car to await my return
• sub plans for while I'm away (yes, they'll still be working the last week of school)
• leave to attend graduation in five minutes
  

So, I'm a little busy. It's probably THE worst week for me to miss at school. And, yet, no one begrudges me this time at all. There's just a lot to do so that my absence is less inconvenient than it could be. But, no matter what gets accomplished and what doesn't I'll be in-region in a week (I'm going a day early to help with sleep and my composure.) ready to meet a little girl who may be d2b. We'll see...

prepare yourselves

During our last field trip, I had nine of my twelve parents along for the fun. They all had their cameras and were clicking away--calling to their kidlings to "Look over here. Smile. Say 'kimchee.' Over here." I was busy trying to get pictures for our class and for the three moms who weren't there. Our tour was fast-paced and we were whisked from one activity to another.

I think it's great to have photos. I don't have nearly enough photographs from my childhood. There aren't everyday moments captured. I have friends that I've known for over thirty years and we have a handful of photos of us together. It was so normal for us to be together that it wasn't photo-worthy, I guess. There aren't yearly birthday and Christmas photos, marking growth and change. I want to have more photos of my child. I've been a good photographer of my friends' children for years. I'm looking forward to doing the same thing for d2b.

But.

You knew there was a but coming, didn't you?

I think that we've become spectators of our own lives--photographing and recording and commenting on them instead of just living them.

While I know you are all dying to hear and see what is happening, recording it in the moment is not my priority. This is a moment that I want to LIVE. I'll share some of it...but it may be after I'm back. (And, of course, photos have to wait until after custody is granted, as per Russian law and common sense.) I may have time to blog while I'm away, but I may not. I'm not even sure about internet availability.

I am so grateful for all the support I have both irl and in the blogpsphere. It's wonderful! But, this moment is mine. Is ours, mine and d2b's. And I think I may need to just treasure it up for a little while before I decide what to share with all of you. I just wanted you to be prepared. ;>

ppnn

Yesterday, second grade went on a wet and windy field trip to Vyborg Castle. It's a Swedish medieval castle (as per our guide) in what was once a Finish city. Vyborg is lovely! It has a very not-in-Russia feel to the layout and architecture.

ppnn, as defined in this post, is kateish for "pretty picture, no news".

ppnn

The tulips in the Summer Garden are beautiful right now.

'sall i got

had an e-mail telling me that it had been so long between posts that the e-mailer was having withdrawl. in case anyone else is, here's how i answered:

there's just no news.

and i had a person staying with me (from my single russian moms group online) while she was here for court.

and i have a cold.

and i stepped on a tin can and split my toe. (don't ask)

so that's news...but it's not the NEWS that everyone wants.

and i won't have that for two more weeks. even though i tell people it's a blind region, they think i'm holding out. they keep asking. and i just. don't. know.

i have most of my pre-court paperwork either taken care of or lined up to be taken care of...so now i just get healthy, heal, pack and go. well, maybe shop a little, too.

oh--after all my year-end assessments and report cards...and multiple field trips...and a bake sale tomorrow and a flea market on saturday....sports day next week and an early end-of-year party....(i am sad to be missing the last week of school with my kiddos. i feel like i'm abandoning them. it's always an important time, but for third culture kids, it's especially important. so i'm trying to squeeze all that good relational stuff in to send them off strong, confident and happy and finish up all our academics without my students feeling hurried or anxious. i'll tell them (and their parents and the rest of our school staff) tuesday that i'll be leaving early.)

maybe i should just post this!

so i did. ;>

what's next?

I forget that not everyone adopts from Russia. Forgive me.

I am travelling to a blind region (I prefer to call it a "stepping out in faith" region). This region is totally blind...unlike some which are just really nearsighted. (Ha! Laugh at the jokes, people.)

I will not receive any further information about d2b before I travel--no name, no birthday, no picture, no video, no health records.

I'll go to the region on 14 June, meet with the MOE on 15 June, and then have five days of visits with her. (This is because I have a great agency. Some agencies don't get this much face time.) Probably on day 2 we'll have a doctor come in to review her medicals records with me and perform an independent assessment. This will include developmental tasks as well as a physical exam.

At the end of five day, if all is well (and the only reason for declining a referral in Russia, according to my agency, is a medical one) I will sign my "intention to adopt" papers. And go home. By myself. That's the end of "trip one".

A court date will be scheduled 6-9 weeks later (although someone in my region recently had only two weeks between trips one and two). That's "trip two". I will again spend a week in-region, visiting with d2b (yea, agency) and then having court. In July and August things really slow down because people are on vacation. This could work in my favor, as judges try to clear their calendars before going on holiday, or against me, making me wait until September. Let's hope it's the former!

In Russia, there is a ten-day wait until any judgment is finalized. In the past, since it was unlikely the new parents would appeal the decision and they presented "compelling reasons", many regions waived this ten days and granted custody immediately. Not so mine. I expect to have the "ten days" enforced, though it could be counted as either calendar days or business days. I will probably return to St. P, unless we are the exception to the rule and circumstances (everyone at camp, chicken pox, etc.) allow me to have custody during the ten days.

At the end of the ten days, I'll return to pick up my daughter. We then have to get her Russian international passport and do an exit interview with the US Embassy in Moscow. That is "trip three". So far, my region is not taking an extraordinarily long time to issue passports. In some regions, new biometric passports are taking so long (over a month in some cases) to be issued that parents are choosing to leave the country and make a fourth trip. If trends change, and the passport will take a month, I *should* be able to return to St. P with d2b to wait that out and then go to Moscow for the exit interview.

We fly to the US. D2b becomes a US citizen when she clears immigration (and not the infinitely more romantic "when the wheels land" or "when she touches American soil" that I'd prefer). Then, we turn around and fly back to St. P. We might stay a night. But, I'm anxious to use my maternity leave with her in our home in St. P rather than at T@rget (much as I love and miss the big bull's eye). We just need to settle in to real life. And, our real life is here.

I'm double-checking with the consulate, but I should be able to do her social security and US passport applications here.

So, that's what's next. I'm still hoping we're home before my birthday. (mid-September, shop early and often)

THIS is news

I have been invited to meet a little six-year-old girl. I will be in-region during my last week of school--June 15-19 for an official referral from the MOE.

I'm excited to see who she is. I'm a little sad not to be meeting "my" sisters. And, I'm cherishing a tiny little sparkle of hope that it actually *is* my sisters and their info is just off.

The earlier inquiry about my being willing to raise my age range was made was erroneously. They're actually brother/sister siblings.

More about my plans soon...

(Stat lovers, news of referral came on day 1176. And, today is St. Petersburg Day. Ironic, no?)

stick fam (eta)

THIS IS NOT NEWS.

June asked to see the stick figures I was playing around with. Sorry for the tease.

Make your Stick Figure Family at FreeFlashToys.com

Hmm...it's too wide for this blog. Mia really is there next to little sis.

X

I can't decide if I want to

• burst into tears
• go to bed
• laugh hysterically or
• scream

I think this teaser-followed-by-no-news is getting to me.

So is the face of the eight-year-old that I *think* is one of the sisters. Oh, I'm hoping, hoping, hoping she is; that the sisters are who I think they are. I don't want my face (and my heart) to fall if the pictures on the MOE's screen don't match up with the pictures on my screen. Oh, I hope that doesn't happen!

I called my friend Marina tonight and asked, "Just how common is X (**not the real initial) as a last initial?"

"Don't worry. It's very common, Katoosh. Everything is fine."

"No. I was hoping it wasn't common. That way the chances that these two are sisters is greater. See?"

"Oh. They're both X?"

"Yes. Xxxxx X. and Yxxxx X. (**yeah--not their real names, either)"

"Oh. Well, it's not as common as (long pause) P. Or (long pause) V. But it's not like an immigrant's name. It's still a Russian name. But you're right. It's not a common initial. I'm sure they're sisters. It's them."

That's a good friend, eh? ;>

Oh. You guys have a three-day weekend, don't you? No wonder things are so quiet. ARGH! That means my agency has s three-day weekend, too. Sigh. Will stop looking for news today.Tomorrow is one of S's days at the MOE. Mozhet bit... (Maybe...)

don't buy a kindle

Apparently, it's not how far a kindle falls that damages it but how it lands. (I just laughed and said I wish I'd been able to tell the kindle that before it fell.) The "service option" offered was that I pay $200 for a new kindle. I've had my kindle for two months.

I told him I couldn't pay $100/month to use their product. The rep said he hoped this wouldn't happen again. I said I wished it hadn't happened once.

The rep was polite, but couldn't do anything. I e-mailed amazon expressing my disappointment at their misleading demonstration on their website and told them I'd spread the word on their customer service when it comes to kindle. (That's why I'm bothering to post this.) They're great about tracking orders, replacing lost or damaged books. But,

Kindle support is non-existent. Don't buy one.

ppnn

Fishermen on the Neva surrounded by hungry gulls as seen on my way to school. That's Vasilevksy Island behind them.

(Pretty picture. No news.)

ado annie

Thank you all for sharing your experiences. What generous friends I have in bloggerville who are willing to share these very experiences for the greater good.

The nice thing about believing that there is a plan for my life, is the fact that I also believe that can't mess things up. I can't. There is no decision that I make that will be outside of that plan. That doesn't mean I'm a little robot. Predestination and free will are not mutually exclusive.

Okay, let's say that I plan for my students to have an extra recess on Friday afternoon. There is, actually, some math that we could finish up instead, but I've planned for recess. I ask the class if they would rather finish up math or go outside. If they say they'd like to finish math, we will finish math. But, they say they'd like to go outside and we have recess as I planned. They didn't know this was the plan, but they chose it.

That's a very poor illustration of how I think free will and predestination work.

(Boy, am I getting preachy these days. Pretty pictures tomorrow.)

So, no matter what I say, it will all come out right. My decision is already planned.

But, since I've asked over and over not to have to say "no" to a child (even though a little part of me still thinks I might have to...) I am going to be Ado Annie, that infamous I'm just a girl who cain't say no girl. Except I can. I can say no. I just won't.

Just because I was surprised, doesn't mean I'm going to say no. I'm ready to meet these girls! And, the nice thing about me is that my little dilemmas generally sort themselves out quickly. I was surprised, but not doubting.

Remember the last possible? She was seven. And, I never quite warmed to her. But, I kept going. (Really, there are very, very few children that I don't eventually understand and love. And those few had...parental handicaps.) And, because of the first possible, I started corresponding with a family who had their own possible from the same pen-pal situation. The MOE voiced my same concern about my possible and didn't invite me to meet her. The family turned down their possible. And now I have a friend who is interested in pursuing the other family's declined referral. A family could be united...partly because I didn't say no. (Okay, I almost called this post "ripples" ala Joan of Arcadia--a show everyone should watch. )

So I'm waiting to hear if I get to meet these girls. If it's a go I have SHOPPING to do! Shame, huh? ;>

Yes, my brain is in practical mode.

• I need to find out if it's required for the girls to have their own beds or if they can share.
• I will need more clothes in bigger sizes. Smaller sizes can be donated to the local orphanages, given to my favorite caretaker at Lapouhinka for her granddaughter and sold on eBay.
• I need a bigger pair of sunglasses for big sis.
• I need more sticker books and introductory activities in an older age range.
• I need to know when their birthdays are so that I know how to increase the age range in both my homestudies. (One sw has been contacted and the other is on holiday until next week.)
• I will be teaching internationally longer, most likely, to provide for two girls. I should get my masters...but that will continue to be put off.
• I looked at the database and found a sibling possibility for these ages. If it's them, and they're so precious that I can't let myself think it IS them, then they have lovely names and I know what middle names I'll add.

So I guess I better get busy.

It's possible we'll hear about the possibles later today...

pharaoh's daughter

Thank you. I am overwhelmed by your generous support.

I am never given a lightening bolt. Never. I don't ever sit bolt upright and know what to do.

I just have a heart that...changes to surety. It's not really that solid of a feeling. It's just knowing what is right.

I didn't start adopting because I had a burning desire to be a mother. That sounds horrible. But, it wasn't that intense. It was quiet. And it was something that I just knew I had to do. I had to give up a job I loved and start over. And it would all be good--even when it wasn't GOOD--because it was what I was supposed to do.

I struggled with the fact that I was single. I think children are much better off in a loving family that has a mom and a dad. But when the family isn't loving, or there is no family, a single parent must be better, right? I knew that, but still felt uneasy.

Then I read the story of Moses being adopted by Pharaoh's single daughter with a different ear, one that was captured by the single mother instead of the baby floating in the river, and I was reassured. Can you imagine the upheaval in her life when she took that baby in? I think the story reads as if it were a whim of hers to take this baby in to her life and her home. But it had to be more than a whim. I imagine she faced innumerable obstacles as she brought in this little Hebrew baby boy in the face of her father's edicts. She became a single mom.

And, really, do you think she didn't know Miriam was his sister? Yes, she could have been completely fooled. She could have been delighted at the convenience of having a baby appear and a nurse for the baby offered immediately. But, I think she knew exactly who Miriam was and who the nurse was. I think God working on her heart to do what was right for this baby and this family is much more in character with my God than it is to think that He used deception to further His purposes. I don't know, but I think Pharaoh's daughter may have known exactly what she was doing and did it anyway.

It has been my prayer all along that the right child or children be referred to me first. (No referral yet, so calm down.) I was hesitant about meeting "Miss Possible" last fall, but told my agency to move ahead. Because she was first. And she was presented to me.

As it turned out, she wasn't meant for me, and I was relieved. But, I did get involved with a series of events because of her that may lead another little girl to her family.

Now, there is a possibility of my meeting sisters who are six- and eight-years-old. Somehow, when I heard that they were six and eight instead of four and six, I felt like I'd lost four years with them. But rather quickly, my heart recalled the faces of my pre-teen girls whom I love so dearly. I was reminded that I'd asked, over and over, not to have to say "no" to a child. And the face of an eight-year-old girl became more important than the darling size four dresses I have hanging upstairs.

We've got two more possibles now. If we go from possibles to referrals, I'll let you know! Please keep all of us lifted up as we wait.

bow your heads

I could use some wisdom and clarity right now. Prayer warriors, this is a call to knees.

warming

Didn't I once say if one had nothing to contribute to the conversation, or was in doubt as to what was appropriate to discuss, one could always talk about the weather? (Yes. I did. Basically.)

It's warmer.

See? The meteorologists in second grade said so.

And they're predicting soaring morning temperatures. ;>


**note: the cold spell lasted four days--these are only recorded on school days. nach.

AND, I put a new picture in this post of my favorite Victory Day poster from this year.

And now I'm off to delete a post from the archives. Otherwise this is post number 555. And it's just not worthy.

lost

But, I like Juliet and Sawyer!

She's my favorite. He's my favorite. They're my favorites!

There's only one season left.
They'd better end up back together.

kindle-thumbs down

I had planned to do a post "kindle-part 2" to tell you all about my kindling experiences. I had planned to list the pros and cons:

pros

• you can read in the bathtub
• many books in a small space (good for travel)
• quick downloads to and from computer
• books are reasonably priced
  

cons

• not a book
• one page shows at a time
• lots of clicking to turn pages--even on the smallest font, I'm turning pages all.the.time
• my hand falls asleep when I'm reading in bed
• you can't easily look ahead to see how many pages are left in the chapter to decide if you should finish the chapter before putting the book down or look for a convenient stopping place
• many books I want are not available on kindle
• screen saver image gets "burned into" screen
  
• not a book

That's basically what I'd planned to post. It was convenient for me in Russia, but I wouldn't use it when I got home.

That's not what I'm posting now.

Now I'm posting that, based on yesterday's experience, you should not buy a kindle. The drop test they show on amazon is not accurate. Mine dropped from a lower height than theirs purports to, and my screen is damaged.

This is not covered under their warranty. There are no repair facilities for kindles. I'm calling amazon today, but I don't hold out much hope. If I'm pleasantly surprised, I'll let you know.

I will not buy another kindle.

And, unless you never drop things (and don't have any dropping helpers around like...kittens or children) I'd advise against buying one.

my little present

The other day I had on a shirt that wrapped around and tied "on the empire". The tie was so long that I had it in a little bow.

A Russian-speaking colleague at work walked past where I was talking to another teacher, patted me on my upper abs, and coo-ed something about a present.

I was horrified! Did I look pregnant? Having put on a more than a few pounds since I quit dancing/entered my thirties/moved overseas/began the adoption process, I don't really want anyone patting me. And, being a little sensitive about this, I was immediately concerned that she'd confused my adoption with a pregnancy--and was commenting on "my little present". This was my taste of the magnetic quality of a pregnant belly--even if it's just paper pregnant.

I realized much later that *I* was the little present, neatly tied up with a bow. Yeah. Not a comment on my curves-simulating-pregnancy at all. Sheesh, Kate. Mind a little one-tracked, maybe?

No you do NOT get pix of me in the shirt! How can you even ask that after the rest of this post?

choking cherries

Do you see this?

It's a chokecherry tree on our school playground.

Every year when it starts to look like this:

the weather gets cold. I don't remember this happening in Colorado...but maybe it did. We've gone from warm sunny weather with temperatures in the lower 20's to cold, sleety morning with a temperature of around 8C. I refuse to dig out my winter coat...but I did put on a hat today.The sunshine is predicted to be back on Monday. Let's hope!

fortnight? eta

Does this two-week wait seem long to anyone else?



eta: Oh, I've already e-mailed. Nothing. Strange "closings" on the days S goes to MOE (Another agency parent tells me he's a creature of habit, to put it nicely, and won't vary his routine. So, he'll only deal with referrals on x day, the embassy on y day.) when other agencies are getting things done. Mentioned that. Got nothing other than referral likely before JULY. Surely that's longer than two weeks?

So much for my one-sentence post.

bear pix

My friend Jenn sent me this photo after the recent posts about bears in St. P. She took it when she was here adopting her gorgeous son a little over three years ago.

random

Do you realize that next year, in 2010, Mother's Day in the US and Victory Day in Russia will be on the same day? How perfect is that?

Did you hear that Madonna is coming to play a concert in Palace Square in St. Petersburg? Russian officials have declared it a "natural disaster".

Mia-ow

The state of the animal kingdom here, for the animal lovers out there...

Thanks for your concern. Mia was not happy with her blanket. She wasn't awake, but she'd flail a bit and try to roll up to her feet. I put her back in her carrier to contain her. Later, when the rolling continued in earnest, I let her out. She was dazed and kept trying to go upstairs. I figured she was trying to get to one of her favorite napping spots--on the heated tile of the bathroom floor--and carried her up. She fell back into that scary sleep...and seemed to be leaking. It wasn't bile or urine. It smelled (yes, I smelled it) odorless. But there were pools of it a couple of times and she was drenched. Poor baby.

I was a little worried about how long it was taking her to wake up. I've had another cat spayed here, and she woke up faster. (I had another Russian kitten who didn't get along with Beazy and went to live with a family from school. It might be because of what I named her. Seriously, did I think Beatrice and Helena would get along? What was I thinking?) But, her incision was on her hip (which I'd never seen--but I think it made for a faster recovery). Mia's is on her stomach. Different surgeons...

About 5 a.m. (10 hours later) Mia was awake and groggy. I brought her in to my room, took off her little straight jacket, and she slept a bit. A little bit. She's eaten a few kibbles and is slowly moving around. She's still a little loopy--and she's very skittish and afraid. I feel so bad for her!

I'm sure she'll feel better soon. She's hiding right now, which just makes me feel worse. She's usually very much a lap cat, much to my chagrin. Now, when I'd feel better if I could comfort her a bit, she's MIA. (ha) And I'm worried about her stitches. (Tami, any tips from Shad on how to keep her from licking them too much? Neosporin? Ace bandage? I know a little licking is okay, but how much is too much?)

eta: It's now quarter past six in the evening and Mia is much more awake. She's sore and her eyes are squinty (weird), but she's much better. She so wants Beazy to snuggle up with her, but Beazy remains wary of that vet smell. Time to break out the vanilla for the napes of both cats.

Changing animals- it's not uncommon to see people on the street with a bear cub asking for "donations". There is always a sign saying that the bear needs money for honey. Unfortunately, this ploy works. You often see children and tourists taking pictures with the bear cubs. The bear cubs look miserable and drugged. I'll go picture-taking for you once school is out. But it's sad.

The "horse girls' near Palace Square have a reputation for riding up and cornering people and being persistent to the point of viciousness in their demands for money "to feed their horses". It hasn't happened to me, but it has to three male colleagues.

At the same time, I've seen old women treat stray cats with great compassion. They feed them along with the birds in the park. I'm told by a Russian friend that the women are making amends in a way, offering gratitude for the animals that were eaten during the siege. It may be this soft spot that local people have for animals that make the ploys of the hustlers lucrative.

shrug

My poor kitty.

Today was the day that Mia was scheduled to be spayed. The secretary at school had made the appointment (my Russian is much worse over the phone than it is in person) for us to go in today at 11 a.m. It seemed like a strange time, right during the parade, but I did as told.

I got Mia into her carrier (easy because she'd never been to the vet) and walked the mile or so to the vet. My car was safely parked at school, away from the festivities. I could hear the parade going on several streets over. The streets were pretty empty and the day was sunny and warm.

When I got to the vet, I gave them my name. When they asked why we were there, I told them "She needs...scissors. No mama." They asked if I had an appointment, and I told them I did for 11.

We were taken back to an exam room shortly and Mia got the once over. Then, the vet brought in their English speaker. (SO glad Oleysia was working today!) After explaining that they would give Mia an injection and that she'd likely vomit and would be ready in 5-15 minutes, she asked us to come back later--there was no appointment in the book for us. They brought in the (note)book to show me and, sure enough, the 11 o'clock appointment had been whited out. When I asked why, she just shrugged and said, "This is Russia." We made an appointment for later in the afternoon.

We walked home, killed two and a half hours and then headed back to the vet. Getting Mia into the carrier was a little trickier this time. ;> The day was warmer and the Field of Mars was filled with people--couples enjoying the sun, boys in uniform, veterans in uniforms covered with medals, children carrying red carnations to give to the veterans.

At the veterinary clinic, everyone greeted us loudly and with big smiles. We went back, Mia got her injection, and was very quickly...still. She still had muscle tone, but was obviously not herself. The vet came and took her away.

While I was waiting for the procedure to be finished, Oleysia came out to tell me about the post-op care (put her on a blanket on the floor because she will be drunk, keep her covered, clean her stitches every other day). A man came in and asked about bringing in his wolf for care. His wolf! Oleysia had a sparkle in her eye as she explained that the wolf had a hurt foot. She also asked if I'd seen the wild cat that was in there earlier. I had--it looked like a baby snow leopard or an ocelot. I thought I'd been seeing things... Oleysia said they get pumas, baby bears and other wild animals. I told her how sad it made me to see the bear cubs out begging on the street. She agreed. I asked her where people got these animals and she replied, with the same shrug she'd shrugged this morning, "This is Russia."

About 45 minutes after we'd started, the vet brought a still anesthetized and completely limp Mia out to me, dressed in a little surgical gown to keep her from eating her stitches. I've done this once before, so I knew what to expect, but it still took me aback. Poor baby!

We walked home and she's resting on her blanket on the floor. She looks so pitiful. Beazy is a little concerned. I'm just waiting for her to wake up.

It's a little unnerving bringing home my kitten while she's in this state. But, (shrug) "This is Russia."

v.i.c.t.o.r.y

I'm loafing around home today enjoying the luxury of having a four-day weekend. Water was delivered this morning (on time--will wonders never cease) and the kitten is off to the vet tomorrow to be spayed. Exciting? No. But having two days to take care of these things AND have two more days off is certainly a luxury.

Today, Europe celebrates VE Day. Russia, of course, celebrates it tomorrow. (Why make things easy and share the celebration?) Here's a link to an old post I wrote about Victory Day. And here's a shorter post from last year on the same subject. (I've lived here long enough now that nothing seems new.)

(And, might I add, since I was searching through the 500+ posts on this blog for various and sundry reasons, there are many very well-written posts in the archives? I entertained myself reading them. Caution: lots of typos and they're not all gems. But, if you're stuck in-country and looking for something to read it might help pass the time. Right, Irkutsk families?)

I hope each and every one of you finds some victory, no matter how small, to celebrate this weekend.

(Barb, look what I had waiting for this post before you even asked. A picture! See? Not very exciting.) eta: a picture of my fav Victory Day poster from this year. Before I saw this one, I'd only see billboard versions. I am not ready to drive in St. P traffic and take photos at the same time. My talents do have limits!

These are the only pictures I've taken of late (with my fabulous and very fast but also very big camera) that don't contain either children in orphanages or my students. It's all I've got that's suitable for a public blog.

exhibit a

I will not miss the fact that I live in a subterranean flat.

As I type, there is a crowd of boys outside my window, acting as if they were at the zoo, tapping on the window and trying to play with my cats. While I realize it's harmless--the boys are giggling away as they trace circles in the air, just like they do for the trained seals at the Oceanarium and my kitten is following their movements intently, dizzy with the effort--it kind of bugs me.

It's bugging Beazy, too. She's jumped up to protect Mia and is staring them down. The boys are using their best sign language to try to get the cats to kiss. The cats are not amused.

Now the boys are making raucous monkey noises. Off to rescue both the cats.

happy students

For the spring concert (like we need one more thing to do in the spring) second grade is singing "Happiness" from You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown. (Can't imagine who would've suggested that one...)

Inevitably, when my students hear this song, they start singing their own versions. Really, how can you not? Today, my little SM, who has provided us with the best esl stories this year, has been chirping away. Most of her songs are a variation of

Happiness is having Miss C for my teacher
And living with her in her 'partment
With my family
And Mia

It's nice to have blatantly happy children in my class. She said to me last week, in utter wonder, "But, Miss C, how you make me like you SO MUCH?" I just told her that I liked her.

We're writing books about how to be a good teacher to give our student teacher when she leaves. (She was in Moscow today so we seized the opportunity to get started.) Most say, "You should be like Miss C." "Don't yell like Miss C doesn't yell." "XYZ like Miss C." I know that most of this is just that my little ones are very concrete thinkers and I'm right there in front of them. But, I'll still put these in what a friend of mine called "The Stroke File"--little things to pull out when things feel grim.

Yep. Hanging on to the happy.