More Holiday Tidbits

Jiejie (explaining Hanukkah to TJ): It's when the Jews were fighting the Epiphanies.

TJ: (digging throuh Hanukkah goodie bag) Is it my Hanukkah or everybody's Hanukkah?

Meimei: Can I sing my song again? It came upon a midnight clear, that glorious song of all. With angels  (what are they doing, Mom? Bending? OK!) bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold.

Jiejie: Mom, why do these candy bars have Santa on them?

Mom: Oh no! I couldn't find any gelt so I got the million-dollar-bill bars.

TJ: Mrs. Hart say that George Washington guy on the money is the last president!

Jiejie: He was the first president.

TJ: No! Mrs. Hart say!!!

Holiday Tidbits

Meimei: (singing) Are we like sheep have gone astray-ay-ay-ay-ay. Ding! Ding! (that's the triangle)? Why do I have to be a sheep and wear ears?

TJ: (Chiming in) I'll tell you a story that's old and yet new. About Judah. Judah? What his name, Mama?

Mom: Maccabee. Your dad is going to love this.

Jiejie: (Poking finger  at and then through tissue-wrapped Hanukkah present). How do they get the sparkles in the paper. Oops! it's soft. Hmmm. Is it a towel?

What a Difference a Year Makes

On Monday it will be a year since we met TJ.
How much he has grown and changed and
become himself. But it's too late tonight
to post more than this photo from tonight.

More to come ...

Sweet Things

Our first few moments as a family of five, 12/2010.

Meimei decides the perfect Thanksgiving dessert for her class is: Brownies! (Brownies?) She makes them almost all by herself and in the morning she decorates them with lots of sprinkles. (OK, I tried to keep the sprinkles in the orange family in some homage to the holiday). When I got home from work she listed by name all four kids who partook.

Jiejie and TJ are upset that Meimei got have her own baking time and did not share the bowl-licking. Mommy will try to make it up to them by enlisting their aid in some projects that will appear on the Thanksgiving table.


A few days ago I was talking about how corporal punishment (and evil name-calling) on the part of teachers used to be common in school, at least the ones I attended. I still remember the sting of the yardstick across the backs of my legs at rest time in Kindergarten when I got too chatty, and the time the second-grade teacher held a girl by the neck and shook her, and the awful thing the sixth-grade teacher said to a chubby boy who ended up being a football star and police officer.

These stories percolated around in TJ's mind for a few days, and last night he told me, "Mama, I go to a bad school in China too." Since he has a strict rule of secrecy about anything related to China, no doubt imposed quite firmly by someone else, I was all ears. Well, the "bad school" seems to have had some physical punishment, but nothing TJ would go into detail about. He did say there was no paper and no crayons, so no drawing, which explains his reluctance to pick up the crayons at home.
"There was only reading and reading," he said. When I asked if the teachers were better in China or in the U.S., the boy who hates school gave a resounding vote to the local elementary school.

"Remember when I only knew how to spell TJ and Sonic," he said. Sonic, as in the hedgehog, was the first word he learned to spell. He is acquiring reading skills slowly and shies away from practicing at home. Now that his tonsils and adenoids and ear tubes have been taken care of, we can see there is still some sort of auditory processing issue that needs to be dealt with as part of the package of of help TJ will need to get him caught up with his peers. He is also starting to sense that he is behind is slightly younger sister and often comments about what grade people are in, a fact he seemed oblivious to before.

Then he started reminiscing dreamily about the candies and (white, flat round?) cookies of China that he got at a little store, and that was the end of the sharing of significant details of his past, or maybe it was the beginning? As those days in China dissolve in his memory, we feel we need to mine his thoughts for details we can piece together into narratives he may want to hear when he is older. But maybe the past was fuzzy or painful or bitter, and the elusive sweetness of the flat, white cookie will be the remembrance he clings to.

It's National Adoption Month

And there is little time for posting, but lots of time for reflecting on whether there is

• room in your heart and home for one more amazing kid,
• initiative in your workplace to extend maternity/paternity benefits to adopting parents,
• some spare change in your pocket for a charity assisting orphans in Haiti or China,
• or a question you might have about the process. 
• Let me know if I can help.

Headlines From the Homefront

Upside-down girl.

Eight-Pack of Target Neon Vampire Fangs a Big Hit

Power of the Press: Jiejie Discovers  Police Blotter in  HyperLocal Paper

Mom, Capitalizing on Interest in Reports of CVS Shoplifters and Public Urination Tries to Explain Who Qaddafi Was After Failing To Sum Up Wall Street
(Silently Wonders if Kid Peeing Behind Tree in Park Counts as Public Urination)

TJ Sleeps With Toy Catalog

Kindergarten Social Season Debut Falls Flat When Play Date Play Mate Has to Cancel

Another Day, Another Play Date
('Who Cares?' Says Meimei)

TJ Adopts Ringmaster Pose, Standing on Dining Room Chairs, Chanting 'Welcome, Welcome to the Car Race!'

ZhuZhu Pets Meet Remote-Control Mini Hydroplane

Jiejie Finds Homework Loophole; Notes That Assignment Says 'IF You Find and Interesting News Story, Summarize It' (Future Editor? Attorney? Literal Thinker?)


TJ Claims Teacher Says It's OK to Wear Halloween Costumes to School

American Idiom

TJ's English is really coming along. Though it's true that acquiring what is known as academic English will surely be a struggle, slang words and idiomatic expressions have begun to stud his speech. The other night when the soap slipped into the sink, he said "Oops-a-daisy!" And this week he came home with a coupon book from school, took a deep breath and explained very carefully that if we wanted the book we had to send in $25 and that it was to help the school, that's what the teacher said. He has been guarding it carefully. This week he started an after-school class in magic. He came home with a small brown paper bag that he carried around secretively. Later, after a little tussle over homework, he became more militant about not showing me the contents. "How you spell 'don't look, Mama,'" he asked. "You know those words," I told him. He ran to his school drawer and found his box of flashcards. He pored over them until he found the words he wanted. "No look Mama," is what he wrote on the bag, with a circle around the words and a slash going through them. It turns out TJ knows "If I Had a Hammer," too. We were singing the song and talking about it when Jiejie said, "Mom, is Pete Seeger still alive?" "I know Pete Seeger," said Meimei, to my extreme surprise. I assured the kids that he was very much alive, and told them about the time I met the great man, when I was very young and very stupid and writing a newspaper story about the anniversary of Freedom Summer. They told me they were learning about him in music class. And that is a great thing about having three kids in the same school: seeing the information filtered through three different minds and delivered at home for our delectation. Jiejie made me proud with her processing today. We have been struggling over extra-credit assignments. There is a lot of optional work in her class, and I want her to do it. Schoolwork comes easily to her, and she needs to meet the challenges that are presented if she is to grow and to develop good study habits. She disagrees. I told her it was not negotiable. The night before the latest optional assignment was due, she saw me filling out a form. "What's that?" she said. "Something for school," i said busily blackening circles without looking up. "Refuses to do extra-credit work. Check. Doesn't listen to Mom. Check." "Wait!" she said. "Is that about me?" "It's just something for the teacher," I said. "I'll do it, Mom!" she said, stricken but not quite believing me. I started to laugh and told her I was just pretending. Tonight she did the work, a poster about a European country. She did Greece, but scrupulously avoided any mention of any Greek heritage in the family. Then, she started to get interested in copying the Greek words. We listened to some Greek hiphop. She wrote a little text based on what we had printed out. Then, to my surprise, she wrote: "Don't forget the yummy triangles!" She was thinking of her Yiayia's spanakopita. She asked me how to say and write the word in Greek, then carefully copied the word and drew a delectable piece of spanakopita. I'm so proud of my Greek-Chinese-American-Jewish girl.

Meimei Turns 5

It's hard to believe that Meimei is 5. Well, actually, I think she is probably a few months younger than that. The orphanages in China do not set much store by accurate record-keeping, and indeed the workers, with dozens or hundreds of children to deal with, probably do not have the time to keep track. Some anecdotal accounts indicate that random birth dates are assigned, but every orphanage is different and surely the intake procedures vary. Someday, we might have more information, but it's something to hope for, no something to count on.
With Meimei's birthday coming the day after school started, she maintained she was four-and-a-half until the last second, confusing some folks in Kindergarten who asked how old she was!

She had a very small family celebration with a special dinner (ok, it was Slacker Mom pizza and wings) and a cake sprinkled with tooth-shattering multicolored candy doggie bones. It was a lovely party, but something very important was missing. Daddy. He set off from his office by car at 4 for the 7:30 p.m. celebration. At 9:20 he had not called. Calls to his office and his cell phone and texts were unanswered. Dad turned up around 10, well past bedtime, bearing a sweet music box that played "Fur Elise" (can't find the umlaut). he had been waylaid by flooding that closed the roads, more than doubling the two-hour commute.  That same morning he had driven from home to the office after having come home for the first day of school. The backing and forthing is putting a lot of miles on Dad and on the car, which is truly a lemon and one that is racking up repair bills that are coming close to what we paid for it three years ago.

What's the solution? Pull the kids out of the school where TJ is finally at ease and Meimei has just begun? Where Jiejie is excelling and feeling secure? Put the house on the market and sell low and buy high? It is going to be hard to find a community as comfortable as this one, where everything is just right.

In the meantime, we are hoping Meimei will begin to accept her classmates as her new friends so we can have a real birthday party. She persuaded me to buy a boxful of themed favors online for a big puppy party, but she only wants to invite 5 children from her preschool, none of whom have turned up at our public school. She is starting to make friends, boys first of course, although there is a little girl in her class who may have been adopted from China or Vietnam. Meimei said, "She is my friend, but I free-got her name." I asked if she was from China. "Yes," Meimei told me matter-of-factly. How do you know, I asked. "Mom, I'm form China too, you know!"

Tapping Our Troubles Away

Everyone is settling into the school routine, although the weather is perfect now, so different from the last few weeks of summer vacation, that I don't know how the kids are keeping their minds on their classes. Perhaps they aren't.

I am getting an unusually close perspective on the after-school hours because I injured my ankle and have been hobbling around in a big black boot, between visits to the orthopedist and waiting for insurance approval of an MRI. First there was a broken bone; then there wasn't. Now the suspicion is a torn tendon. In the meantime, I am working from home and waiting for that MRI, and hearing the school bulletins up-close and personal, as they say.

Meimei has reconnected with a friend she used to have play dates with by virtue of an au pair connection. Will Leo replace Shane in her affections? She happily reported today that she and Leo bedded down side by side at rest time at school. Meimei loves Kindergarten and has treated us to a few songs, including a somewhat fractured version of "If I Had a Hammer." Note to self: record this.

Jiejie seems to be struggling a bit with the homework load for third grade. Or is it because Mom is home that she is so squirmy and unwilling to  settle down to work. She has missed her TV time every day so far as she labors (or sits next to me at the dining room table fidgeting) over the year-by-year timeline of her life, due Friday. She has three years done so far and a start on a fourth, then four more to go. I promised to print out the photos she needs. The tonight I checked out the homework folder and found the next big assignment: writing and illustrating a theory for the creation of the universe. Sheesh! I hope they get at least seven days! Seriously, it's a creative and clever assignment and I'm glad we live in a district where this is an option. On the other hand, I don't know if the Big Cat Theory will pass muster.

TJ is delighted to see that he is not the only one who doesn't like homework, and has made a point of noting that Jiejie, in her restlessness about homework,  is "Just like me!" Time to manufacture some homework for TJ!

He said tonight he wants to take tap class with Jiejie. I can see it all now.

Back to Stress

This year we started the school year with a bit more organization than my usual slacker mom lackadaisical planning. My conclusion? It doesn't make a bit of difference!

Yesterday, the day before kindergarten, Meimei and I went to the ice cream social/getting to know you party at her new school. (OK, it's weird to give kids ice cream from 4-5 p.m., but what do I know?) She was a bit shy but very polite, full of please and thank you and willing to tell people her name. She even giggled a little, colored some pictures and generally seemed to have fun.

On the way home she professed to be craving mac and cheese, so off we went for some alone time. Walking through the parking lot on the way to mac and cheese we saw anew clothing shop. Meimei was very interested, so after a bite to eat, flower cookie and some lemonade, we headed next door to the pricey looking new boutique and found a not too terribly expensive but very fashionable long, ruched tee in her favorite blue and a baby-soft pair of jeggings. She wore them today for the first day of kindergarten where I was the last parent to leave the room after disengaging Meimei from my leg. I am sad to see her start school, but proud and happy and wondering if that tiny, tearful little thing will get through the day. I know she will. Kids always do, right? It's just so hard to leave her there sobbing, "Why do I have to go to school? I want Mama!"

While I was up in the Kindergarten room, Daddy was downstairs in the nurse's office with TJ, who was screaming. He screamed about getting out of bed and had to be carried downstairs. He refused to eat his breakfast, ordered the night before. He crawled under the table and lay there holding onto the table leg. Finally I coaxed him out but could not get him to eat even a bite, brush his teeth or use the restroom. Reluctantly he let me  walk him to the car and buckle him in. When we got to school, however, he clung to the car door. I had to sort of pull him along, fighting his resistance as it increased with every step toward the school door. We were blocking traffic as other families hurried in, trying to get out of the rain. People said good morning; TJ screamed.


By the time we left school, TJ was sitting on the floor outside class with his teacher and the school nurse squatting beside him trying to gently talk him into joining the class. They said they'd be in touch. Outside the door the new principal reassured us that he would be OK. I hope sometime soon she reads my email and responds to my phone message about the urgency of getting TJ evaluated so he can start getting some of the services he needs. Onward to start the working day and find more caffeine. Lots more. The idea of breakfast seems repugnant, though. The school anxiety diet? Burn calories with empathy for your kids in transition? Perhaps there's something to this.

Dialogues of the Caramel-Eaters

Jiejie and Meimei enraptured by Taylor Swift concert DVD, ignoring requests by Mom to turn it off.

Mom: Eject the disc.

Jiejie: One more minute?

Meimei shimmies in a way Taylor Swift never would and sings along.

Mom: Eject the disc now. You can bring it upstairs and watch the rest.

Jiejie: TJ, do you like Taylor Swift?

TJ: No way! I watch "Pink Panther."

Headlines

Jiejie Sells Yarn to Meimei
At Extortionate Prices
To Help Finance Purchase
Of American Girl Doll

TJ Discovers the Power
Of the Primal Scream
Over and Over and Over
And Over and Over Again

Meimei Counts Down
To Kindergarten
And Fifth Birthday

TJ Notices Target's Lingerie Department

Mom Unhappy to Come Home To Malodorous Gallery of Nail-Polish Paintings

Jiejie Suggests Compromise on Use of Inappropriate Language;  From Now On, 'Bleep' Is the Word

Geronimo!

The kids are jumping from one bed to another.
"Row, row, row your boat. Get me down the stream," Meimei sings.
"Say Geronimo, TJ," Jiejie calls, taking a leap from the dresser onto the twin mattress -- TJ's sleeping spot -- on  the master bedroom floor."
"Geronimo!" TJ says, a little uncertainly.
Such is life when school is out and Daddy is away. Summer is drawing to a close. It's not as hot as it was, and today the kids went to the playground instead of the pool. Their school playground, that is. The only problem is, someone didn't want to play.
That would be TJ.
He avoided the playground entirely and instead sat with Haley and watched the ducks.
The perceptive Haley, who has observed TJ from day to day at the swimming pool and playground realized that every time a classmate greeted TJ, he shied away and pretended not to  know the child. Today, he stayed away from the play area where Jiejie and Meimei were running and climbing with Jackie, our new au pair. He extracted a promise that tomorrow the destination would be a different playground.
It has taken us more than seven months to understand, although we had a few clues earlier, what Haley summed up today. Sometimes, outside the home, perhaps a bit surprisingly, TJ does NOT like to be the center of attention. In fact he loathes it and wants to stay in the car or leave early or do anything but stay in a situation like that. Maybe that's why he hates birthday parties? It could be one reason why he doesn't like school, but that issue is a lot more complex and probably tied up with achievement issues and his allergy to anything remotely academic. Maybe because it's difficult to learn to read in another language? Maybe because there is some disconnect between what he sees and what he hears? Maybe because of the lack of real schooling before, or the association of teachers with punishment?
A few pieces are beginning to fall into place as we continue occupational therapy (and continue the fight with the insurance company to cover our work with therapists certified in the areas the kids need.) And a few more by personal observation. And even more with input from Haley, who seems to be a natural at teasing out social and developmental issues.
With her help we are beginning to see that the rigidly scheduled orphanage potty time that forces kids to deny what their bodies are telling them to do can lead to  health issues later.
Waiting so long to bring TJ home was nerve-wracking, but waiting to discover all the secrets his past holds and how he has been harmed and hampered by that past is hard to bear. We can't help repair the physical, emotional and neurological effects of years of neglect until we can grasp what they are.

Waiting for Mom (to Post)

To say that life is hectic would be a gross understatement.
On the other hand, it's not bad.
Meimei had a root canal today. She was a brave girl. Mom left for work. Everyone got dollar-store prizes afterward, but Meimei got more. Some unnamed siblings were suggesting  that perhaps an Xbox 360 would be in order instead. In fact, they are suggesting it about every five minutes.

Waiting for TJ: Down on the Farm

Waiting for TJ: Down on the Farm

Down on the Farm

 

Feeding the farm animals after berry-picking.

The summer has been racing by since TJ recovered from his tonsillectomy. The kids each seem to have grown about five inches and perhaps a shoe size in the last few weeks. They are going to the town pool every day, and their swimming skills are improving rapidly. TJ, who had never been in a pool until April went from fearful to explorer of the deep in his goggles and floaties. He has even started taking off his T-shirt at the pool. He thought the girls were kidding when they told him boys did not have to cover their -- well, TJ calls them boobas, as in the song he was singing tonight, "For Christmas I want boobas!" I told himt to be careful what he wished for. TJ managed to close down the pool early when he drank a little pool water and lost a bit of his lunch while coughing up the water. He had had a big day already before the pool. We had along visit with an occupational therapist who was evaluating him for a cluster of postinstitutional issues. He has a few neurodevelopmental areas that will need therapy, but it took two evaluation sessions to get him to fully take part. By the end of his second visit to the sensory gym, he was having a blast.  The real fun will come when we battle the insurance company, which seems to think all OTs are the same. Afterward we had some rare alone time together at the public library. We got TJ his library card, late in the game, I know, but a parent is required to accompany the child, and these parents seem to have been leaving the library visits to the babysitters. TJ was so proud of his card. He chose some books and DVDs, learned how to use the automated checkout, and then settled down at the library cafe with me for some lemonade and a little reading: "Clifford the Big Red Phonics Dog," or something to that effect. After the third book he pronounced them "too easy," but he carried all the books out reverently when we left. Tonight he said he wants to go back tomorrow. Tonight we also had a few battles over who grabbed a pair of sunglasses that don't belong to anyone in particular, a fight over TV (Jiejie wantedvthe insufferable "Fred"; Meimei wanted the same "Pink Panther" episode over and over; TJ decided to forgo the Hulk and Iron Man for Pingu) and a show of inappropriate language from the two 8-year-olds. Repeated inappropriate language. Inappropriate language repeated after Mom said to stop. Four times. It was hard not to laugh. All the kids were in their pajamas. Jiejie was wearing a candy-apple red dress-up wig with play high heels; TJ was wearing a golden crown and Meimei had play eye shadow in green and blue circling her eyelids. Finally, they stopped when they realized they had cut into their TV time, but Jiejie has been challenging Mom a lot lately, arguing every point and deliberately disobeying. I suppose this is the budding of her adolescent rebellion, her Elektra complex rearing its head, the beginning of years of emotional ping pong with my heart as she moves toward independence. Yikes! One minute we are working on sleep plans to get everyone sleeping in their own room all night, and the next we'll be waiting at the window for them to come home from nights out. The old joke in the "helpful Chinese phrases for adoptive parents" comes to mind: "You can date when you're 35."

 

 

 

Headlines

Jiejie Discovers Some Cool Airlines 'We Need to Fly':
Emirates and Singapore's First-Class Pods
(Mom Starts Looking for Banks to Rob)

Meimei Practices Going Underwater at the Pool

TJ Wants Popcorn

Mom Loses Eyebrow in Home Waxing Tragedy

Meimei Practices Going Underwater at the Pool With Her Eyes Open

TJ Makes First Trip to Movie Theater
To Ingest Transformers and Simple Carbs

Jiejie Starts Tap Lessons

Meimei Practices Going Underwater at the Pool Without Floaties

TJ Wants Nutella

Mom, Owner of Half a Dozen Swimsuits Seen Last Week,
Cannot Find One to Wear to Pool

Meimei Practices Going Underwater While Propelling Self Forward

TJ Wants 'Piggy Bacon'

Jiejie Zooms Ahead in Library Summer Reading Challenge

Mom, Worried She Will Have to Wear Lingerie to Water Aerobics Class,
Orders Three Swimsuits Online at 2 a.m., Paying For Express Shipping

Mom, In a Fit of Inspiration, Springs From Bed at 3:30,
Dredges High Closet Shelf, Finds 2 Swimsuits

Jiejie Notes Dover Catalog Cover Advertises
'1000's of Books for $5'; A Buy-in-Bulk Bargain?

TJ Says: Why You Give Me So Little Noodle?

Just kidding!

He Eats

A thinner, paler, slightly less energetic TJ asked hoarsely for a bowl of noodles with Panda sauce long after bedtime tonight. He got it, and ice cream after that. The doctors said to load him up with calories, and we have been, but I hope he gets clearance for broccoli and carrots before he forgets what he has learned about nutrition. He lost at least 8 lbs. after his surgery, and he was only hovering around 50 lbs. when he started. He has the pep now to chase the new kitten and to accuse his sisters of taking his toys. He's definitely on the mend but still in high-maintenance mode.

Home Again, Home Again

After a bit of a wrangle with some arrogance and the aid of an amazing nurse, we got TJ sprung from the hospital last night. He has been home about 24 hours or 27 Spongebob episodes. Sure enough, home cooking (not Mom's) saved the day. He gobbled down steamed eggs Chinese style, sesame-paste-filled rice balls and a squeezable snack called jelly-juice from the Asian market, then more of the same and still more. He's a little grumpy and awfully imperious after his reign in the hospital, and he says he's bored, but he keeps eying a gummi Krabby Patty his sister brought home. It's so nice to see him eating and drinking again.

Last night, the first thing he did after the car ride home was to vomit. Oh no. We kept him quiet and it didn't happen again.  We started thinking that perhaps that miraculous Tylenol with codeine really was at fault for upsetting his stomach. We called the doctor and asked if we could switch to plain Tylenol. That seems to work just fine, and his tummy has been in good shape since then.

Next Stop, Nurses' Station

I have known a few superhuman creatures in my life, and many of them are nurses. They attack the messy, the complex, the recalcitrant with grace and gentleness and vigor. TJ has been messy, complex and recalcitrant since we too him to the ER last night after a listless day of coughing and vomiting every drop if fluid we managed to get down him. He was admitted and treated for dehydration, given buckets of IV fluids, eventually some antibiotics, a chest X-ray and several rounds of respiratory therapy, poking prodding, vital-signs checking, offers of toys and crayons and ice pops.

He's staying again tonight.

The poor guy has a  very sore throat, exacerbated by the vomiting and coughing and the fact that everyone forgot he had been taking pain medication every 4 to six hours.  As a result, he was completely uninterested in any of the exciting offerings on his clear-fluid diet. The doctor changed the order to a soft-foods diet. Nothing appealed. TJ asked for an ice cream sandwich, but it was "too spicy."  Then came the aha moment. The pain medicine! The nurses worked their magic and it came in, in a syringe  shoved into a glass of ice, like a shot of silvery vodka. Once it took effect he asked for blue ice cream. I am ferrying some back to him, wondering how he will have upped the ante by the time I get back to stake out my spot on the recliner. It's clear that TJ has no control over his environment and he is holding fiercely onto what little control he has. It's also obvious that the pain in his throat and nose and esophagus and tummy and ears and the memory of the pain of the last few days,  is a powerful factor. But how can he win the game and win a pass out of the hospital? Ah well, maybe the novelty of peeing into a jug will wear off.

Stumbling in the Dark

TJ is crying in his sleep, which is pretty much an echo of the day, losing those precious bodily fluids that we have been cajoling, begging and bribing him to swallow. I am tempted to calculate the price per ounce I am paying various game Web sites for his grudging compliance. Poor little guy. He has been clinging to me like crazy and retreating into his talking  Iron Man helmet every times he sees a medicine cup, nasal spray bottle, ear drop vial or evil Pedialyte pop headed toward his fortress on the sofa.

He has tried  holding medicine or milk in the front of his mouth for minutes at a time to avoid swallowing. And I have tried telling him that if he doesn't let me hydrate him he will end up spending the night in the hospital.

We tried to get TJ to eat some dinner: baby food, Chinese dumplings, 3 kinds of ice pops, bread moistened with milk. It was not long after he got his red liquid medicine (administered with a little syringe to the side of his mouth because otherwise it's "too spicy," when the lights went out. TJ clutched the giant flashlight but was uncomfortable around the candles and insisted on going outside where the summer solstice light remained.

He sat on the steps with me, injecting a few milliliters of water into the side of his mouth, having decided that the squirt-gun delivery system beat normal swallowing. His sisters ran to the driveway with the sidewalk chalk.

'Biggest Tonsils Ever'/Live Blogging From Surgery Center

I feel like I'm a reporter again.


TJ is out of surgery and we get to begin our four hours in the recovery room shortly. The doctor came out to tell us TJ's (former) tonsils are the biggest she's ever seen and that his adenoids "run a close second." She had a lot of choice adjectives like "infected" and "purulent."

But now they are gone and TJ will be able to breathe through his nose at last. And sleep without snoring down the house. And go to school without falling asleep.

TJ and His Tonsils/Live Blogging From the Surgery Center

TJ and Dr. Mom prepping for the OR

We scooped up TJ in his PJs and brought him in to get his tonsils and adenoids out and ear tubes put in. He took this photo just before we were escorted in to the operating room. What a way to celebrate six months in our family! At least he will have all the ice pops he can eat. He went into surgery with his new Ironman hand and glove on. Good thing we didn't have the helmet. The anesthesia mask was scented with bubble gum. He cried a little, and squeezed out a couple of those huge tears, then his eyelids fluttered shut. We'll see him soon in the recovery room where we'll have another on-the-spot report (not).

What's the Matter With Meimei

Tonight Meimei told me, again, that she doesn't love me. She started this a month or so ago. The first time she said it,  few minutes after her shocking pronouncement she added, "Am I breaking your heart?"
Now it has become a nightly ritual. She finds a pretense for anger, or perhaps just an excuse for anger already bubbling within. Tonight it was my singing. "No singing!" she ordered. Of course she has never liked my singing. I resorted to recitation. "No talking!" she said even more sternly. I said good night and turned out the light (and no she's not sleeping in her own bed, in case anyone was wondering). I reminded her that I loved her forever, no matter what.  "I DON'T love you forever!" was the reply.

Meimei in China, 2007

Further, she does not love her sister or brother. Only Daddy and one of her babysitters. Then she started trying to pound my hand with her little fist. I kept moving out of the way. She got me a few times. i told her it hurt and then reminded her we had a family rule against hitting. The hitting stopped. A minute or so later, I felt a small hand pushing against me.
"Do have to make a rule against pushing?"
She grunted.
I snorted, which usually makes her laugh.
She grunted a few times then dropped off to sleep.

In the daytime, she is as loving and eager to please as usual. Even then, she doesn't tolerate my singing, one of the few chinks in her armor of patience and compassion. Of course is any kid REALLY that compassionate at 4.5 years old? Now that we have determined she is not the panchen lama, we need to figure out what  she's giving voice to --- something that always was there behind her meditative mien? Or just one of the many changes she's going through? And what does she need to hear from me in response?

Spinning Out of Control

TJ, Meimei and I made a trip to the otolaryngologist. TJ and Davyn got hearing tests. Mommy was treated to the Epley maneuver.

Meimei's hearing was perfect. TJ's ears were filled with fluid (no wonder he has trouble with final consonants in English),  his tonsils big as meatballs, his adenoids short-timers. We had expected a wait-and-see approach, and were prepared to push for more aggressive treatment, but the doctor made up her mind in seconds.

So, more trauma for TJ, and ice pops and toys and finally, we hope, sound sleep, the ability to breathe normally and relief from the bouts of sinusitis and tonsillitis and bronchitis.  Learning -- and everything else -- should get a little easier after it gets a little harder.  We took the first open surgery slot. It just happens to be Dad's first day at the new office.

Then it was Mommy's turn to get a vertigo treatment. It takes a long time to scrape up the courage to face the spinning and accompanying anxiety. Past treatments haven't worked and this positional vertigo has persisted for five years. A sort of headphone beamed some kind of electrical impulse into the bone behind my right ear to agitate those crazy otoconia that are lodged in the wrong canal. My head hung over the back of the examining table first in dizzy position for 5 minutes, then straight back (normally also a dizzy position) for five minutes and then five minutes hanging over the table to the left. After that, a slow move to a sitting position. I felt great. No sign of that residual near-vertigo I feel at the dentist or hair salon. Woohoo! I walked slowly down the hall to the crowded waiting room where Meimei and TJ were waiting with Haley. TJ jumped up and I snapped my head around, the room made a quick quarter-turn and I was sitting on the floor, feeling very silly. Don't look up, don't look down, don't nod, get a neck brace, try to get down four flights of  escalator at  the Port Authority.

Just a few days until TJ's surgery, and another vertigo treatment. And the world keeps turning.

Headlines

Preschool Moving Up Day, 98 in the shade.

Meimei's Pre-K Report Card Lauds Her 'Fashion Tips' to Teachers; Meimei Mum

TJ Wants to Be Cub Scout; Not Sure What It Means, But Likes Derby Car on Brochure

Jiejie Refuses Vitamin Unless It's Crushed Up in Nutella

Meimei's Report Card Calls Her a 'Diplomat'; Meimei Mum

TJ Loves the Dentist (Or Is It the Goodie Bag?)

Meimei's Report Card Says 'Practical Life' Activities Don't Interest Her; Like Mother, Like Daughter

 TJ Issues APB for Daddy; Shows Mommy Giant Stuffed Bear Tucked in Where Daddy Had Been

Daddy Found Watching Basketball on TV

Stress Tests

Jiejie and Meimei have been running fevers since Friday night, sleeping fitfully, whining, asking for their cool drinks in the baby bottles they turn to, sometimes for fun and sometimes, I think, because they need to be babies.

Mommy is still fighting whatever virus she had, but she is very far behind and has missed a few important deadlines and a day or work, not to mention all of Memorial Day weekend.

TJ is over his tonsilitis, but we have not heard the last from his tonsils.

In two weeks Daddy starts his new job -- or rather his old job in a new place -- about 120 miles away. That is just a few weeks after his mother, Grandma Mollyne, died suddenly, just when she was getting her strength back and planning to travel to Germany for an exhibit of her paper mobiles.


It's all rather overwhelming. No wonder Meimei is crying at preschool and TJ is making us promise never to go to China again. (He is afraid he will have to stay there, and that this is all temporary.) The children's sense of stability and security is shaken. They will not be happy to hear that for the next nine months or so, through the first semester of the next school year, they will see a lot less of Dad because of the long commute. And Daddy seems almost too busy to grieve. He was in touch with the office almost without interruption during the three days he took off after his mother died.

Still, there is a lot to be thankful for. The kids had a perfect Mother's Day at Grandma Mollyne's apartment, surrounded by art, complete with ice cream cones scooped by Grandma. In her apartment there was a pile of plaster hands, life size, gaudily decorated. They hung from trees on Governor's Island for a show a few summers ago. Everyone could use a hand now and then ...


Mom and Dad will have been married 25 years on July 5. That in itself is an accomplishment.  And somehow, in spite of tight work schedules, we will get to the beach this summer. 

So, the garden isn't planted, TJ has no Social Security number yet and the taxes are not filed. The summer is likely to bring a tonsillectomy before we see a ripe tomato, and a recent house guest was right when she said our home was in the same disarray it was in after we moved here two years ago.

But soon we will be moving on toward a new set of challenges. If you're ready, raise your hand!

Sonic Strikes Again

On an especially crowded  bus on the way home tonight, I really wanted to read my book, but I was stuck in the middle of the back row, out of range of reading lights, so I played with my phone. When I checked my email, I found a statement from iTunes. $34.29 in downloaded apps. Sonic the Hedgehog, 99 cents, Sonic the Hedgehog, $1.99, and on and so forth. I had a little time to prepare for our conversation, to reinforce the idea that only free apps were allowed and only with permission and only Mom has the password.

More iFun.

The problem is, the password authorization for the free download doesn't just snap off after the installation. It last awhile. Long enough for TJ to download a pile of Sonic the Hedgehog comics. Perhaps unwittingly. If it works, it must be free, right?
Ahem.
Enter Daddy. I picked him up at the train in the heavy rain and told him about the downloads. He wasn't happy. Nor was he vigilant. More on that later.


We had a talk with TJ with the help of Yuanfang. He admitted to having the Sonic comics and accessories. He promised never to download anything again. I asked him for a hug. he refused. For a while. Fast forward to bedtime. TJ looked up at me and said, "Why mama no dollars for iPhone?"


While Mom gets emails about her iTunes charges, Dad's iPparatuses report to an email account that he never checks. He checked tonight. He had a few downloads too. Smurf games and Smurfberries. Bushels and buckets and barrows of Smurfberries. A total of more than $300, including two of the $99.99 mega-semi-tractor-trailer loads of evil berries. They were downloaded a month ago, when TJ's English was minimal. A quick Google search to make sure I was spelling Smurfberries correctly  filled me in on the whole Smurf snafu. I guess I have been too busy playing Angry Birds to read about the true hazards of being plugged in and being the mom of the kid whose first handful of English words included iPhone.

Quotes of the Week

TJ:  Ma, you prefer ("prefer?" wow) blue Sonic Hedgehog or yellow Sonic?
                                       


Meimei: Do you know my classmate Jack? He knows a lot about geckos!


TJ:  Guys, who wants ice-a cream?


Meimei (doing the splits): Shea loves it when I do this.



TJ (carrying around his Spongebob wall clock, hands moved to 10 o'clock): Ma! Bedtime 10!

Mom: Bedtime 8:30.

TJ (shaking head, stomping) Bedtime 10, bedtime 10!

Mom: Who's the boss?

TJ: (Scanning the room for candidates and lighting on one of the cats) Philbert is boss!


Meimei: At school we have the planets and when we walk by Mars we go like this (pretending to shiver) because it's so cold. Then we walk by the sun, "Ooh! Oh! It's so hot I'm burning my feet!" Mom, which one is the one with the big red dot?


TJ (Saturday morning): Don't want to. Fishing no cool!
TJ: (Sunday morning): Fishing again today? OK?

What's in a Month?

T.J. and Max at the koi pond of The Garden Hotel in Guangzhou, Dec. 2010.

It's been four months since the day we met T.J., and it's been more than 30 days since we've updated the blog, an eventful month that began with the serious illness of one relative -- Grandma M. -- and ended in the death of another, Uncle Phil. Neither of them has had the pleasure of meeting T.J.

Soon, however, the children will make a pilgrimage to Yiayia's house to meet another clutch of family members and to visit  T.J.'s pal, Max, who is now living outside Chicago.

What they will have to say to each other is anyone's guess. Their last video conference was a bit awkward after several previous non stop chats. In the intervening weeks,the boys seem to have lost the local dialect they shared. But they used neither Mandarin nor English to converse this time.  Max waved some Transformer toys and lugged the cat into view several times. T.J. seemed frustrated. He seems to have a great deal he wants to share with Max, but he isn't quite sure how to do that. It can't be denied that they are thrilled about getting together, and I'm sure they'll find a way to communicate. We cherish Max, the only certain link we have to any part of the first eight years of T.J.'s life. Someday, he will feel that lack acutely. Right now, however, he is living completely in the moment in a way we grown-ups can only envy.

The more comfortable T.J. becomes in our family, the more he opens up, not with information about his past (we know almost nothing and have only two or three photos, all quite recent) but with parts of himself he has kept hidden. As he acquires English, and as he races (not without stumbling) toward emotional maturity, we are seeing funny faces, tricks and tastes that must have been part of his repertoire for a long time. We still really don't have a clue about his foster family, how long he was with them, where he really came from and when he lost his first family.

He is adjusting quickly, but his old balkiness at new situations is arising in the strangest places,for example, a tae kwon do birthday party, which seemed like just the sort of thing he would love. He stood outside the door of the martial arts school, protesting that he wanted to go home, in spite of promises of pizza and cake. The birthday girl, from Jiejie's class, is adopted from Russia. She and her two older brothers have studied tae kwon do for several years. There was something very appealing about the ritual and discipline, the focus on respect and self control -- and about hearing these normally giggly 8-year-olds sing out, "Yes, sir!" Appealing to me, anyway. T.J. and Jiejie would have none of it, even while I was fantasizing about arranging a family class. They watched from the observation area and played a bit with some of the targets the hostess thoughtfully brought over, but did not join in.

For You, the Sun, Moon and Stars

T.J. was not thrilled about his first dancing and drumming class. Meimei told us she went into class with him and  held his wrists and patted his hands on the drum as he cried.

That was last week. This is another week, and he is loving it. He likes making noise and rhythm, and he loves to sing, mostly "la la la," but today he had the iPad singing "Old McDonald," and he was singing along as well as he could.

He's speaking English in sentences now and hardly ever speaking Chinese if he is with just the family.
"Mom, play with me." "Water, please." "Wow, that really cool." (usually regarding a new iPad app. He has earned that Mama will (mostly) say no to the ones with numbers and dollar signs and thus has learned to read the word "free." "I want toy." "Why sleep time?" "More bacon." "I no like that." "How you do this?" In other words, he's way ahead of my Chinese. Still, he seems much younger than eight, and so very innocent. He has seen so little of the world, but come so far.

The Learning Curve

TJ is learning faster than I ever imagined he would. Just a few examples of his newfound vocabulary and interrogatives (!) in the last few days:

What you doing? (to everyone, all the time)

What you say?  (to Mom, who said the words "presents for TJ" in a phone conversation)

"I number one!" for toothbrushing, using the restroom, and just about everything you have to line up for in a house with three kids.

Why Jiejie 15 dollar? (upon hearing that a groupon-type offer would allow us to buy $30 worth of fabric for sewing class with a $15 voucher)

Why? (of course, and endlessly)

And each time that we are able to give him a considered answer, he learns more.

Short Takes

There's so much to say each day as TJ and the girls grow and the and we all entwine in new ways, but the reserves of time and energy are constantly in demand and sometimes sleep is the wiser choice and recording these moments gets put off for another day and another.

And so,
some comments from the peanut gallery.

Meimei, left,  told us this week that she was studying George Washington in preschool.
"What did you learn about George Washington?" I asked her.
"He's the one with the white hair," she said with undisguised pride.

TJ continues to surprise us. Here he is in his Shirt of 100 Eyeballs, made for the 100th day of school celebration. He refused to wear it, then relented but would not wear it with the long-sleeved shirt underneath. At last, he gave in. Sometimes with TJ it helps to be a clown; he is easily disarmed by his own laughter.
Tonight he said, "Daddy computer."

Then to clarify, he said, "Big." I took him to the desktop computer, knowing full well he could find it and log in himself. "Uh-uh," he says, shaking his head and thinking. "Big iPhone!"
"Oh," I said.  "Daddy's iPad?"
"iPad!" he said, thrilled to have gotten through. Pretty resourceful.

Jiejie is nearly 8 years old and changing fast. She's taking an advanced sewing class at the Y; she knits, with needles and with fingers; she watches out for her big brother and little sister, and she competes with them wholeheartedly. Like TJ, she has trouble putting things in perspective. What seems like a minor slight causes weeping, as intense a reaction as a major emotional wound. She dives into chapter books, but wants to be on my lap every time she stops moving. At her insistence, all three children imbibed in chocolate milk from baby bottles, just as Jiejie did when Meimei came home, a sort of planned regression she found comforting. They each were rocked and cuddled while they drank their milk. They kept it up for three days, and after that the bottles have been, for the most part, put away. But the baby in each of them is near the surface. Jiejie had a couple of whiny and weepy days, and a few hours after this photo was taken complained of a sore throat and headache and spiked a fever of 103.6. I held her in my arms most of the night and put cold cloths on her neck and forehead, and looking down at here, with her hair held back by the washcloth, I could see the long lashes, pouty lips and full cheeks of the beautiful baby who came home almost seven years ago.

TJ Does Nijinsky

TJ is flying along so fast his feet don't touch the ground. He is a busy, content little boy who sometimes gets so excited he cannot contain himself. If we don't witness some of his antics we may not hear about them because of the language barrier or because it's moreinteresting to play Spiderman video games or ride a tricycle around the house, so I should not have been surprised to hear this from his music teacher: 

"Perhaps T.J. does not yet have words to explain,
but he played the part of the clown, Petrushka!  He ...  seems to enjoy music class, and brings energy, delight,

and willingness to "Jump in" and experiment every time."

I wish I could have seen Stravinsky Day in music class! We really do see miracle a each day, or at least we hear about it.

Crunchy Living

Vegetables are not a big favorite with our kids, but the girls know they are required, and now TJ knows too. The other day at lunch the boy who has been know to run a mile to avoid a pea in his soup smilingly stuffed his mouth with the entire serving of baby carrots on his plate, then disappeared. He was back in moments with no sign of the carrots. "Good job, TJ!" I told him and dug out a quarter. "Please tell him that he can have this coin if he can bring back the carrots," I told Haley. She translated. They headed to the bathroom where TJ showed her where the carrots were buried. Silly rabbit!

Fun With Dick and Jane

TJ and Jiejie often have their heads together these days, whether they are doing homework, watching "Spongebob" in Spanish for no particular reason or brushing their teeth together, sharing a stepstool. "Brusha teeth!" TJ proclaimed tonight, summoning Jiejie,  And earlier, "chicken!"  as I was preparing to roast one. When Daddy tried to give him his nasal spray, he began to whine. I suggested (yet another) reward. "He likes bubble gum or a lollipop," said Jiejie helpfully. "Lollipop, bubble gum, O.K!" said TJ, submitting to the torture.
On the way up to bed, the two older kids wanted to look out at the falling snow. "Snow! Wooo," said TJ, jumping up and down and speaking in rapid Mandarin. "He said, 'no school tomorrow!' according to his translator.

Quotes of the Weekend

Meimei, studying a bubble of toothpaste on her brush: "Even spitballs don't last forever."


TJ: "One, two, let's go!"

Meimei, playing with a disconnected phone: "Hello, Shea. I have something to tell you. Can you stand on one foot?" Shea is the young man she seeks to impress at school, whether they are playing "The Farmer in the Dell" or he is getting scolded at circle time, a frequent occurrence, Meimei reports. "He got in trouble again," she said, rolling her eyes. "He was playing with his zipper! I laughed and Jack laughed."

Hyperlocal Heroes

For Daddy's birthday, the kids made cards. Jiejie made several; T.J. copied Chinese characters onto construction paper he had decorated with a printout of another hero, Ultraman. He did this after his homework, homework from two days of school, some of which was not due until later. Homework with T.J. is great fun. We did the worksheets of addition and subtraction by counting pennies or cherry drops: "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven minus two, bye-bye one, two!" Then T.J. would count what remained aloud  in English and fill it in in his careful hand. At the end of each page I would add a red-wrapped candy to his personal pile. In English, anything over ten is a mystery to T.J., but we can switch to Chinese for those. The English homework is a bit trickier. T.J. loves to copy his vocabulary words, and repeat them. It's much easier to explain to him the concrete objects on the list: "gum," chomp, chomp; that's easy. "But," however, is harder to explain. He's learning nouns and verbs and speaks a few two-word and three-word sentences. He has also spoken sentences in Mandarin, filling in a word in English: "puzzle." His receptive language is even better. He sometimes translates back to Ping or Haley or Yuanfang something I told him in English. Tonight the kids watched cartoons in our room after a little dance party to some conga music and before bed. T.J. and Jiejie at the foot of the bed, were discussing the finer points of Spongebob, and I believe I heard Jiejie speak a few short sentences of what sounded like authentic Mandarin.

The Trouble With T.J.

Jiejie said it best. "T.J. is the star. He gets all the attention." She said it matter-of-factly, without tears or obvious malice, but it's clear that having a new brother is taking a toll on the Supersisters. I tried to explain to Jiejie that attention was not a matter of merit but of need, and that the new child, to whom the family and the language are a mystery and source of fear, needs a stronger dose, administered more often, of just about every comfort a parent can offer. Jiejie agreed that she was far more sophisticated than her slightly older brother. Meimei, I told her, was also more emotionally mature than her brother. "For real," said Jiejie with a touch of rue, perhaps over Meimei's seemingly innate compassion. But even Meimei has been flinging herself to the floor and declaring her loneliness (from about 18 inches away) as I sit beside  T.J. at the dining room table trying to demystify some aspect of family living. T.J. on the other hand is sure that we are unfair to him and that everyone is out to cheat him out of a toy, a book, a plasma car ride or a cookie. When he thinks he has won, he likes to rub it in.  He was positively gloating today at being the only one to receive the morning trophy and handshake for staying in his own room past dawn. (note to self: order more trophies; palm trees dangerously depleted.) And he likes to tattle. Relentlessly. What makes me feel bad, however, is that I am losing patience. I used to keep any anger I felt about the kids' misdeeds hidden and separate from any discipline I meted out. I vowed never to be like my parents and others of their generation: I would not "get mad." Until now. Sometimes the sheer noise is enough. Tonight it was three kids on my lap as I tried to type a note to Jiejie's teacher requesting that she be allowed to relinquish her spoken lines in favor of lip syncing with the chorus at the Martin Luther King birthday pageant at school and a note to T.J.'s teacher asking if he could be part of the after-school tutoring program in language arts and whether or not he could join the Read-a-Thon as a "listener" to stories read by others. Neither printer worked. Two little cups of water were spilled. Tears were shed. The forms are not filled out. The checks are not written for the after-school classes. But the kids are asleep and it's not quite midnight.

Snow as a Second Language

T.J. and the girls were delighted to have a snow day today, and this morning T.J. told Haley in Mandarin  that he wanted to learn some English. They got to stay up late last night and make s'mores in the fireplace when their homework was done. T.J. put up a big fight about my helping him with his ESL homework from school, matching English words with their rhyming counterparts and copying them. He also had some addition problems. He did very well counting on his fingers (just like Mom). He seemed to like the homework in spite of himself and in spite of previous protestations, but he was convinced that my intervention would not be helpful on his English work. I tried to show him that "snug" and "rug" rhymed. He moaned and kicked his feet (looking none too threatening in his red slippers and fleece robe patterned with skulls) and pointed at the word "run," indicating he had already used it. His confusing "rug" and "run" seemed quite normal and even somewhat sophisticated. Either he has picked up a lot or he knew his ABC's and was sandbagging us. I picked up a green marker and wrote on my arm: "snug" and "rug" then covered the initial consonants to show him the remaining letters were the same. T.J. was not amused as i continued to cover my arm with green words, then moved on to label a cup and  mug. I sang the Starfall.com song "Listen to the Short U Sound, Uh-Uh-Uh-Uh-Uh." Annie Sullivan I am not. At the end of the wrangle, we cemented what we had learned with a pull-the-tab book on bugs, and even shared a laugh over the dung beetle pop-up: "Bug! Poop!"
One day at a time.

Back to School

T.J. got to school last Friday. It was a chore to get him out of bed, a project to to get his boots and gloves on and an odyssey to get him to the car. We were late of course, our hopes of a delayed school opening because of the falling snow and slick roads dashed. He went to the meeting with the school nurse and the interview with the principal with Mom and Dad and Yuanfang. It was determined he would be placed in first grade, not necessarily doing the same work as the others but attending their music and gym classes, library time, circle time and other activities with a daily dose of ESL. We were thrilled that his teacher would be the smart, intuitive woman who had guided Jiejie through first grade. When T.J. threw himself on the floor in front of the classroom and refused to go in, his teacher knelt and petted him, speaking to him in a gentle voice. Ultimately, we walked him down to the science center where Jiejie's class was watching a film on global warming. He sat beside her on the floor, and when the class was over, he walked with her to the first grade room.  While T.J. entered first grade, I waited in the lobby for a few hours, reading. The teacher sent down periodic reports to the office. Later, she came down and led me to the music room to see a smiling, clapping T.J. happily joining the crowd. At that point, everyone thought it was safe for me to leave and let T.J. get through the day. He did. And he went back again today, with Jiejie the second grader escorting him to class and to the school bus. The mornings are staring earlier now, and breakfast, even if it's just cereal and milk, is taking longer as the rituals change to accommodate another child. We're lucky Meimei isn't in a morning class. It's difficult getting three kids to bed, but it would be harder to get three off to school at the same time.

This Ain't No Party

But it may be a disco. When Mom was queuing up iTunes to play the Floppy Sleep Game, mainstay of the  Sleep in Your Own Room and You Get a Trophy initiative, Jiejie dived under my arm and put on some dance music. Jiejie and Meimei knew just what to do, and within seconds TJ came frog-hopping down the hall to join in. I had seen him dance at that cultural mecca of Guangzhou, The Paddy Field, an ex-pat pub with live music, Guinness pie and tolerable spaghetti, but the lad is definitely loosening up. Today he managed a pediatrician visit and a chest X-ray and asked for a banana in English. When the kids were playing school, Jiejie reported, TJ learned to write the word "cat." He also seems to have gotten a detention slip, if the piece of paper I picked up is any indication. Ah, he's his mother's son, to be sure.

Adopting the Waiting Child

The Three Bears

In China I came up with an equation: 3(kids) + 4(espressos after dinner) = no trouble sleeping. It's a formula I'm sure would still work now that we're home, but, alas, Starbucks is not around the corner and I rarely get to finish a cup of coffee. Having three children between the ages of four and eight is emotionally grueling, even when you have plenty of help. First, there is the sheer noise, which seems multiplied by four or five. Then there is the regression. Meimei, the original Princess Whose Feet Never Touch the Ground, insists on being carried even more than usual, wants to be accompanied to the bathroom and confessed yesterday that she does not like to sit in the chairs at school. "Where do you sit?" I asked her. "On the rug," she said (that's rug in the Montessori sense).
"What does the teacher say?"
"She says 'Please sit in a chair.'"
"And what do you do?"
"Nothing."

"Then what happens?"
"The teacher says, 'Get in that chair right now.'"
"And what do you say?"
"Nothing."
"Do you sit in the chair?
"I don't like the chair."

OK, on to Jiejie. She now needs me to sit beside her while she does her homework. The homework is taking longer and longer to finish. I think she just wants some mommy time, but we could have a lot more fun if we just finished the homework and moved on. I am delighted that she enjoys the timed Rocket Math drills so much that she likes to white out the answers and do them again later. But she, too, is regressing even as she takes her new older brother under her wing. T.J.'s hoarding behaviors have touched off Jiejie's, and she is becoming ultrapossessive of her things and even more clingy with me.  Tonight is the first night she has consented to sleep in her own bed (for a prize in the morning). Since Daddy was sleeping with T.J., the girls have been sleeping with me, one on each arm, pinning me to the bed crucifixion style. The other night neither girl liked the story I told. Jiejie demanded another, but she was already being shortchanged on sleep, so I refused. When she repeated her request again and again, I threatened to cancel a play date if she asked one more time. So she stopped, but continued whining loudly and wordlessly for a solid hour until I told a super-short story about Fred from "Fred: The Movie" (you don't want to know).

And then there is T.J. He's improving in so many ways, gaining more control over his temper bit by bit, making more eye contact, no longer turning his back on me when I speak to him. When we talk to him, and have our words translated, even words as simple as, "Would you like dumplings or noodles for dinner?" he often says wonderingly, endearingly: "Wo? (Me?)" But he is still grabbing toys, crying when he has to share and balking at taking turns, and although he has learned to hug us and blow us kisses, he is far from trusting us as his parents and vastly prefers his Mandarin-speaking caregivers unless Mom and Dad are bearing gifts.