i'm just saying

I intend to say twenty-ten

and not two thousand ten
or the even worse two thousand and ten.

Anyone else?

Yes, I do think about these things. Because, you know, I might be called upon to offer my opinion to the world or the blogosphere. It's kateish.

And I still think the last decade ought to be called the oughts.

plates in question

I just e-mailed this to Essie, and thought it might be of interest to other readers new to the car saga:

I have red, diplomatic plates on my car. The head of the consulate motorpool says it's pretty common to have them stolen--that even white plates get stolen often. (Who knew? Not me. I thought it was pretty ballsy for them to steal red plates and that there'd be big trouble if they were caught.)

They're starting the process now--and looking into a temporary plate (unheard of) or a stamped letter of permission to drive (also unheard of) at my request. Both seem like good ideas...

The consulate is open today and tomorrow and then is closed for the next week. So let's hope something gets started or even sorted (a girl can hope) in the next two days.

A friend had his (red) plates stolen over the summer. (It took him 5 weeks to get new ones.) He said someone told him that it might be people trying to get goods across the border--use the dip plates once, leaving immediately after you've taken them so they're not yet reported stolen, and then discard them.

He's been stopped to prove he has dip privileges just while driving around with his new plates, so it must be becoming more of an issue.

further adventures of car

It's been a while, hasn't it?

I didn't blog about the day-long saga that led to the discovery of a failed ignition coil.

Or the trip to pick it up on a late Saturday morning--by foot and metro--in which Lexi and I were charged by barking dogs (leashed and muzzled, fortunately, but still scary) and saw more staggering drunks than I ever have in one place.

That's all sort of old-hat.

But this. THIS.

Setting the scene: Snow is very, very deep. It's been snowing for a week now and it's over two feet deep. (It's not good for playing as it's too deep and doesn't stick. AND there's no where to sled nearby.)

We went out to go shopping and found that the car handle had been messed with, which left the interior light on, which drained the battery. Not fun, but par for the course. We (consulted with the principal) decided to wait until the roads cleared a bit more (Ploughs aren't running for some reason. Monday a week ago, when it all started, we were shopping. A trip that takes 20 minutes with no traffic, and about an hour with traffic, took THREE AND A HALF hours. So we've been content to stay home and let the snow bury the car.) to call the service to have it jumpstarted.

We called today to schedule a time tomorrow morning. Service is not working until after 5 January. Welcome to Russia.

Another service will come, but you can't book ahead. We planned to call tomorrow.

Ever-helpful principal shoveled my car out.

And discovered I have no license plates.

This is a big headache. BIG. I don't even know how big yet. It will involve trips to the consulate and the local police station. Made, of course, without my car. And it takes AGES to sort out new plates. A colleague's plates were stolen this summer and it was months before he had new ones. Groan.

No, there is no such thing as a temporary tag.

And Lexi and I will have to walk to and from school...or take a taxi every day. I'd guess taxi there and walk home.

But it keeps all of you entertained.

Stay tuned.

yawn

I have not had a full night's sleep in over three months. Neither have I had a satisfactory nap in that time.

While I'm not nearly as exhausted as I was at four weeks, I. am. tired.

official joy

*announcement removed*

Wishing you a Christmas filled with joy and wonder.

-Kate and Lexi

three months

She regularly talks to Mr. Hooper on the phone.

"I can't to-cide." is my current favorite mis-pronounce. Decisions are hard. ;>

Baby Chicken is still with us quite often. She regularly wants to swim in Lexi's drink at mealtimes and is chastised accordingly.

Her doll has gone, in three months, from being Malishka (little one) to Kookla (doll) to Dochka (daughter) back to Kookla to Baby.

I love to hear her pray.

She still considers every decision quite seriously (I want...tak, tak, tak...)and then vehemently chooses (THIS one!).

She thinks Santa will bring her chocolate and a puzzle.

She is currently enjoying her "terrible two's" and is experimenting with all forms of "no". (Another thing for which we can thank her kindergarten.) She has been quick to learn that when Mama tells you do something you say, "Yes, Mama." and obey. The rest of the time she can enjoy being all no-ing.

Our refrain of "This isn't the orphanage, it's OUR home." has come out of retirement in a slightly altered "This isn't kindergarten, it's OUR home."

Our favorite books this week are Piglet and Mama (We quite often have the piglet calling "Mama" around here followed by the refrain, "But Piglet wanted HER Mama." Both the role of Piglet and the role of narrator performed by Lexi. Mama makes a cameo appearance as Mama Pig at the end.) and Loving (which I highly recommend and is better, in our opinions, than the similar book Families. I get a little uncomfortable with the pc nature of Families. It lists foster families and adoptive families as kinds of families...but it sort of creeps me out. And it says that all children everywhere have a family. And we know that's not true. Lexi prefers Loving because it has a picture of a boy's behind as he is bathed. In fact, the subtitle of Lu-vin' for a long time was "The Popochka Book".)

Really and truly, she is a bright spark, a near-constant delight, and a complete joy. And, yes, she really is this cute.

*photos removed--black dress*

I know these are blurry. I didn't want to use a flash, and when Lexi smiles, she smiles with her whole body. Be still and smile? Just can't be done. I just love them--blurs and all. I think the first one is my favorite. Or the first two. Or the first row. Or the first nine...

What prompted these smiles? Christmas, milkshakes, zucchini (which she loves and thinks is the funniest.word.ever), ice cream and Kipper.

(Am very surprised Dior hasn't contacted me about a photo campaign after I sent them her photo. Or Lands End, after the excellent, albeit accidental, product placement in the singing-in-the-park post.)

stats for the record:
height: 112.5 cm (44.3 in)
weight: 40.5 pounds

quickie

We are sick.

School is hard.

Her teacher is...not ideal. Or even close. Looking at options and weighing the benefits of being in my school with being in a structured, disciplined, learning classroom. The problem is, there really aren't any English-speaking kindergarten options--the Christian school has a K/1 split (which I don't think is what she needs--she needs a solid year of K, but...). The Montessori School is "selective". And then there's our school. That's it.

Continuing to talk to the teacher and the principal. Am not the only unhappy parent. Fortunately, am not the only unhappy parent who is willing to speak to the school and not just grumble.

As a parent, I'm awed anew by the responsibility I have as a teacher.

The students all, grades 2-12, treat her like a rock star. They're so glad she's home! Her time out of the classroom is good.

We are both beyond happy to be spending the day at home in our pajamas. I, the only being in the flat with a concept of time, am luxuriating in the fact that we have three. whole. weeks. at home. Bliss.

That's the extent of my stamina. Back to Sesame Street, Silly Sally, raspberry tea with lemon and honey and a stuffy, phlegmy little girl.

p.s. SW visit was fine. Lex wouldn't speak English and sw was too familiar (kissed her and was all touchy until I took Lexi away and said, "only for Mama"). Lex wasn't best pleased, but is fine. SW will come every three months for the next three years. Or as long as we're here. Must inform her of our travel plans out of the country. Also am expected to take Lex to the doctor every three months to be weighed and measured.

post-placement visit

My first post-placement visit with my Russian social worker is scheduled for next Tuesday. I will have visits from her every three months.

I have been told to have proof of medical insurance ready and to be prepared to demonstrate how independent Lexi is. One thing in particular we have to demonstrate is that Lexi can eat with a spoon independently.

We also have to register Lexi here in St. P. This is not an easy task. I say "we" but actually think this is a kindness-of-stangers thing. I don't think I can do it at. all.

We actually bumped into the sw today while we were out fruitlessly searching for plain, brown tights. (Note to all of you who say to go ahead and buy a Christmas dress: If only it were that easy! Dresses here are...not to my taste--and everything is expensive. A Christmas Day dress means I need to make one. But, we were at the fabric store to find something to make Lexi a stocking and, let me just say, no. This, "the best" fabric store has little in the natural fiber category and lots of acrylic and sparkle. I do have some lovely material from India we used for fairy costumes last year...) She's so nice and is always friendly. This is the first time she's seen Lexi. Lexi blanked out at her greeting and "how are you" in Russian. Lex is supposed to answer some interview questions...

One of our Russian speaking friends will be here to translate for both of us!

do you see what i see?

Do you see what's in Lexi's hand? It's a baby chicken!
She's been carrying it around all. day.
She even carried it the .75 mile to church this morning.

When we went to school for our conference, my middle school drama girls (I love those girls) proclaimed, "She looks just like Pixie from Peter Pan!" and took us down to see--and TOUCH--the baby chicken they'd just hatched.

I'm so glad to know my big girls will be watching out for my little girl in the mornings.

(And how much do I love this dress? SOOooo much! I decided that Christmas dresses should be worn all during advent. But now I sort of want a dress *just* for Christmas day. Hmm...)

six days to school

Starting school next Thursday.

Did a quick staff orientation last Tuesday.

Meeting with teachers today.

Neither of us is excited--though I'm faking it big time.

(Thought it better to remain in school's good graces and be seen as co-operative just in case I need something in the future. Love and Logic deposit.)

She starts Thursday. Monday they celebrate Santa Lucia. Tuesday is pajama day. Wednesday is the Winter Concert. Friday is a Christmas party. I'm tired already.

Off to watch Sesame Street. La di da di da...What's the name of that song?

I asked

Lexi, "What are you thinking?"

Without missing a beat she emphatically replied, "Ice cream!"

(This was awhile back but it still makes me giggle. I have no doubt it was true.)

decorations

We've started decorating for CHRISTMAS!

giving thanks

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

When we sit together at the table
and my little girl takes my hands
to say this simple prayer,
either with me or by herself or listening raptly,
I have a thankful and happy heart.

Hoping your heart is the same--today and always.

Happy thanksgiving.

perfect setting

I thought today's misty walk through the park would be a perfect setting for a photo. It wasn't raining, the light was diffused, the park was empty...

Lexi thought it was a perfect setting to burst into song.
(Well, she is, after all, my daughter.)

Mist-inspired songs about people who were so sad and crying and the sky commenced. And, you know, songs about trees and babies and the tired man sit, sit, sit on the bench because he is tired, tired, tired...and whatever caught her eye and her consciousness.





Fortunately, the artist threw a bone to her fans. (Hmm...that seems to imply that we, her fans, are dogs.)

FMLA?

Did your employer count your trips prior to custody being granted as part of your FMLA?

If not, tell me how you managed that! If we don't count trip one and court, Lexi and I can stay home until after Christmas vacation.

That would an amazing gift.

And it makes sense to me as there was no child for FMLA to be applied to until I had custody...

But my school has been SO GOOD to me, that I don't want to kick up a fuss.

Cheers! I'm being summoned to "lunch". (Jenga block pies and water served in IKE@ toy dishes on a stool covered in Kookla's blanket. Yummy. Koosna!)

i confess

i'm a handwashing hypocrite.

daytime:
yes, Yes, YES! Did you wash your hands? With soap? WARM water?

between the hours of going-to-bed and the-first-number-is-seven:
Nooo. It's night. (Don't do anything that might wake you up further!!)

i heard lexi telling her doll (they were playing bedtime, a favorite game) that it was night. we don't need to wash hands at night.

umm...well...

two months

111 cm., 40 pounds

still just as amazing,
brave,
awe-inspiring,
trusting,
good-natured,
imaginative,
pleasant,
delightful,
and beloved as ever

if not more so

(If only there were some natural light so I could capture her likeness better. Ah, well, March will be here soon enough.)

i just love

that this is Lexi's favorite shop window.

It's near our house and we pass it often. We stop and check "the girls" every time. Their outfits are changed frequently, and Lexi always chooses an outfit for herself and one for me. We look at the jewelery. We admire the shoes. And we are so glad that these girls, as opposed to many shop-window displays, have heads!

Don't you think Dior should mount a campaign around this photo?

attachment-regression

So, the top e-mails topics re:blogging are

1. Good for you for not blogging during this time!
2. Good for you for not blogging during this time, but could you just post about regression?
3. Good for you for not blogging during this time, but could you just post about sleeping/eating?

Hmm...well...I can meet you halfway.

I think we all know that regression occurs in individuals in times of stress. But, I wasn't sure that it would work as a verb--that you could regress someone.

Not really time to devote to this, but I can cut and paste. Here are a couple of e-mails I sent people about regression.

Kathy commented:

I can't remember if I asked you this. Anya is 7 (just a little older than Lexi) so a lot of what you are doing is very interesting to me. I have never considered giving her a bottle...help me through that. Is that something Lexi took well? I am just thinking about Anya, and with her it seems everything is "Mommy, I am a big girl". Just wondering....

I replied:

Whole post coming on this, because I think it's fascinating.

I was worried about the same thing. But, I present everything as a game--"You be the little bird." when I feed her. The pacifier was refused the first time I offered it, but I just left it out. Soon it was in her mouth. When I was rocking her to sleep that first night, her little mouth was going just like an infant's, sucking in her sleep. So...it made sense.

I don't offer a bottle, but she asks for one sometimes. I had it out for her to feed her doll with. Then, I asked one time (okay, so I did offer) if she wanted a bottle. Again, indignant refusal. But later she wanted to be my baby (this happens in *short* spurts and then she's off again) and wanted a bottle. She usually wants this when she's sleepy, so it's around nap or bed.

It's interesting that she only does this with me. I took the pacifier on the airplane thinking she'd find it helpful on take-off, landing, and getting to sleep. She wouldn't use it at all. So, don't worry that Anya will be heading to school with a pacifier.

Does that help? While we both know that it's actually more, we treat the feeding and bottles as a game. The paci stays under her pillow. Sometimes we rock with it. But, if she's asked for a bottle, she doesn't need/want the pacifier.

The bottle has been a stress-reliever. I don't think it will last long. I do think it will recur--like when school starts.

I hope this helps!
Kate

(p.s. to Kathy--I think that "I'm a big girl." comes from being told she's a big girl--as in you are capable of doing this so don't bother me with it--in the orphanage. I think she'll take just as much delight in being your baby as she does in being capable and helpful. Lexi doesn't spend all day "regressed". It just happens in spurts. Of course, she was coming from an orphanage where she was among the oldest children there. A is among the youngest now, which could make things radically different. And, A & L have very different histories. So, who knows? I just hope *something* we're doing helps you down the line.)

My friend, Jen, commented about the bottle when I mentioned it in a post:

Did she have a bottle at the orphanage? Because you have done so much preparing, I assume this is something recommended. Is it for attachment? Please enlighten someone who knows nothing about adoption.

I replied:

Hey, Nif! It's an attachment thing. It's not something that I force on her. She has a lot of regression at night. And, when she's under stress, there is more. She asks to be my baby then--and just wants me to cradle her and coo at her. That's often a bottle time--and it's usually before bed.

People talk a lot about regressing a child for attachment. I've been amazed at how much she wants it--there's no making her do this. She likes to be fed like my little bird, to be my baby, to have me take care of all her dressing and...wiping. I thought at six there might be some resistance to this. I was so wrong!

I've tried to write a post on attachment, but it's just too big! I think I might to a series on it. (Like I'm some real writer or something...but whatever.) It will bore some people to tears, but I think it's important and interesting.

Thanks for asking!!

Love,
Kate

So, quick wrap-up on regression (feel free to ask me to elaborate... and I'll try to later): I think if you're ready for it, it will just happen. If you're open to it and present the opportunity for it, you child will lead the way. If they think you're crazy, and refuse, then don't push it. But, if they want to "play baby" and get in those developmental activities, (All of these activities teach important things and help an infant to bond with his parent. It shows that a parent is not only loving and responsive, but is capable and provides. Rocking with a bottle, and cooing and snuggling while you do it, is provides more than sustenance. Remember Harlowe's experiment with the monkeys? Levine and Meany's experiments with rats who were separated from their mothers? I'm pretty sure those were gen psych and not further into the degree...) I think it can only be for good.

Hmm...there are times, actually, when she's over-tired and I know that a bottle or some rocking would help things and she's *said* she doesn't want to, but I do it anyway. I just tell her that I want to rock. I scoop her up and rock her, holding the bottle with my chin so I can snuggle her with one arm and stroke her cheek with the other hand.

So, I guess I do push it a little. But, it's something that's already started. There's precedence. And, there are times when I need to say, "You cannot push me away. You ARE my baby, forever, and I am going to take care of you." It's hard to explain the difference, but so easy to feel it. And her "I-don't-want" disappears immediately.

You'll know.

fair warning

I have a month left of staying home with Lexi.

You may get some quips and snaps in the next month.

But I'm not even promising that.

It might be really quiet here on the blog, but rest assured it's not at our house. And I want to savor that--without thinking about anything else.

Mwah!