the Blethering Spot

Yeah, I'm Still Here

2012-02-08T12:56:00.000-08:00

Will post soon(ish).

In the meantime, here's a photo from exactly one year ago today:

Here we go! Driving away from the Transition House.

Okay Then.

2012-01-03T16:18:00.000-08:00

On the way home from school:

Eyoel: Mom, I love you so much. When I am an adult man, I will let you pick a wife for me.
Me (startled): I love you, too. But what if you don't like the girl that I pick?
Eyoel: I trust you. Just make sure that she's pretty. And nice. [pause] But I don't like girls with really long hair. That's so creepy.

Comfort and Joy!

2012-01-03T13:33:00.000-08:00

Do you remember this post, written exactly one week before our referral in August 2010?

My dreams have come true.

Oh yeah, baby.

To my old stainless-steel-bowl-turned-upside-down-with-a
jimmied-up-duct-tape-handle lid:
Goodbye. I won't miss you.

This is how it all shook down: my new(ish) friend C. called me up and told me that she had found a store in the US that not only carried the Lefse grills, but also carried lids! She was planning to buy one, and, since we live about 3kms apart, she wondered if we should order two, and only pay one shipping fee.

Oh, readers. Dear readers. My heart plummeted in my chest! My breath caught in my throat. Tears sprang to my eyes. My voice broke as I explained that although I desperately wanted an injera maker, since we are planning to renovate our kitchen, I just could not justify buying new things for myself. She murmured and commiserated and said all the right things, and told me that she'd go ahead and just order one for their family.

Several weeks later, our families got together for an Ethiopian feast. Two school-aged children from Ethiopia have just joined C.'s family, and we all know that nothing says comfort like a huge platter of injera and a bunch of spicy wats!

And after dinner, one of her older daughters pulled out two wrapped boxes and presented them to me!

I think everybody else in the entire room knew exactly what was in the boxes, since we had just been discussing injera makers, and her brand-new, shiny injera maker was perched directly in my line of vision. But believe it or not, I had no idea what was in the boxes. Some of the older girls in their family are wonderful artists, and when I saw the large, flat boxes, I assumed that they were giving us some paintings! Talk about being obtuse.

Anyway.... this gorgeous injera maker is fantastic. I've played around with the heat settings on it, and have settled at about 475° for the perfect injera. I'm still struggling to make the beautiful smooth edges that C. makes with hers -- mine are wobbly and uncertain -- but the texture is dead-on perfect. And with a surface this large, I'm able to pour the batter on in spirals, just the way they do in Ethiopia. As well, there's something about the massive, 15-inch diameter injeras that just look so good when they're rolled and cut. You know the plates of extra injera that they serve in Ethiopia? Yeah... I've got it going on now.

A view over the injera maker that's seldom seen in Ethiopia!

Mmmm... this picture makes my tummy growl.

Oh, these poor, self-conscious, wobbly edges. I love them anyway.

C, A, J, R and M, from the bottom of my injera-loving heart.... thank you!!!!! What a generous, thoughtful and PERFECT gift!

Not Too Shabby

2011-12-31T09:15:00.000-08:00

Right, so it's time to do a little self-evaluation. These were my resolutions for 2011: (And in bold: my yearly score, on a scale of 1 to 10.)

I will adopt this motto: "There will be plenty of time for this later." I will apply this motto to all housework. You know what? I ROCKED this one. Never have my floors been grubbier, my bathrooms mankier, or my laundry heaped higher. Well done, me. 10
I will delegate more. I need to stop doing so much around the house, and start making my children work harder. I know this sounds cruel and lazy, but honestly, my children are much too old for the way I treat them. I still bustle around, cleaning and cooking, while my children lay on the couch reading books. Time for the hammer to come down, folks. And I will NOT go around and re-do their chores secretly because I want it done my way. I'll have years to do it my way when they're grown and gone. Time to focus on giving them the tools they'll need down the road. Well, this one didn't go too badly. I'm definitely much better along than I was a year ago, although I recognize that I still have a ways to go. I'll admit it: I'm still too easily swayed by my children's grumpiness, and although I insist that they do the chores, odds are fair that the next time it needs to be done, I'll do it myself. Still. I made big improvements, so I'll give myself a 6.
I will enjoy myself every day. All work and no play makes Gwen a really dull, negative, unhappy girl. I resolve to laugh a whole lot more, to let go of things that plague me, and to stop every now and then and gaze out the window. I resolve to be free to do nothing at all. I resolve to ignore the little voice that reminds me that I should really be doing something with my time. Each day is a gift, and I'm finally going to start being grateful for it. Holy guacamole. This was super tough this year. I could yammer on and on about how incredibly challenging 2011 was, but that would be boring and lame. My score for 2011: 3
I will love every minute of running. I'll increase those minutes if it starts to feel really good, but will definitely resist the urge to feel guilty about not increasing my minutes. I feel great when I run, and there's no way on God's green earth that I'm going to spoil that with guilt. Yikes. I'm sure you saw this one coming. We got the Great Visa Call on February 1, and that was the last time I went running. Well, no -- actually, I went for one run in April, and two runs in July. I was up to my ears dealing with trauma, grief and rage, and simply was NOT able to get away to run. Mark my words: 2012 will be better. Yes, it will. But as far as 2011 went... yeah, I scored a 1.

Well, not too shabby, all things considered -- I'll consider 2011 a successful year!

Happy New Year, everyone!

Swimmingly

2011-12-29T08:56:00.000-08:00

Remember I said I was going to learn the guitar?

I'm actually doing it, and no one is more surprised than me.

When Off in the Kitchen There Arose Nary a Shatter

2011-12-25T23:00:00.000-08:00

In Christmases past, I have always guarded my treasured Czech porcelain carefully, insisting on washing it myself -- or letting Mr. Gwen wash it. After all, I purchased this beautiful porcelain in the (then) brand new Czech Republic, and lugged the heavy box in and out of trains, buses and streetcars throughout the Czech Republic and Austria. I had only just turned nineteen, and I was about to say goodbye to my sister and head south into Austria, enroute to a scary new job in Graz as an Au Pair. It's been (gulp) seventeen years, and I still haven't broken a single piece.

This year, I decided that my older daughters are old enough to take on the job of washing up after Christmas dinner.

My sweet daughter Shiloh was more than willing to pitch in, and we spent a pleasant time in the kitchen together. I had my back to her, packing away the leftovers and listening to her as she chatted to me. After a while she uttered this memorable speech:

"Whew! Well, I'm halfway done. I think it's time to drain out some of this water because it's getting really full. The porcelain is squeaky clean, that's for sure. I'm washing them in SCALDING hot water, then I'm rinsing them in ICY COLD water to give them that extra sparkle."

And now, I'm going to go sit down quietly with a glass of brandy. I'm almost finished breathing into my paper bag, though, so that's a bonus.

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

(note: No, nothing got broken. And the dishes were, indeed, extra sparkling clean. Thanks, honey!)

Oh, By Gosh, By Golly

2011-12-23T20:21:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, to you and yours!

One of These Songs is Not Like the Other

2011-12-12T15:38:00.000-08:00

Today after school, Zelakesh lay on her tummy in front of the Christmas tree, playing with a nativity puzzle that we bought at the Misrach Centre in Addis Ababa. She was singing "I've found Jesus! Woo-ooo-ooo!" over and over and over. And over again.

I finally got so tired of it that I was ready to tear my hair out. I called from the kitchen, "Zelakesh, could you sing something else now please?"

"Sure!" she chirped.

There was a long pause, and I heard the quiet sounds of the wooden nativity puzzle as she played.

Then she started belting out, "Lookin' for some hot stuff, baby, this evening! I want some hot stuff, baby, tonight!"

Did I mention that we have another social worker visit coming up soon?

Whoopsie Daisy

2011-12-10T19:45:00.000-08:00

The other night, my daughter Shiloh and I stopped in at the library after karate class. We went separate directions at the door (I headed to Adult Fiction; she to Junior Fiction). I was leaning down to read the spines when I heard her approaching, the noise of her Ugg knockoffs too loud in the quiet setting.

"Pick up your feet, for goodness' sake," I hissed. "I can hear those huge clompers all over the library."

There was no response.

I looked up to see a well-dressed, middle aged woman glaring back at me. (And yes, she was wearing Uggs -- though they probably weren't knockoffs.)

Why do I do these things? Why can't I just be a normal, peaceful person? Instead, I blunder through life telling families to take their children to nudist resorts, and telling strangers to quit clomping their boots in the library.

Nice.

Advent Calendars

2011-12-08T19:56:00.001-08:00

Check out these great ideas for making your own Advent calendar! I made ours, based on this Martha Stewart design, waaaay back in 2001. Since it's made out of 24 little matchboxes, we can't really fit little chocolates inside, so I hide the chocolates around the house and put little clues in the drawers. It's fun.

It's starting to look a little the worse for wear, though. Last year the ribbon that goes around the outside came off, and I used a big nasty piece of Scotch tape to stick on another, randomly chosen one that totally doesn't work. (I know, I know. I was busy.) The drawers are starting to look crooked, and some of the drawer fronts have torn from being opened too roughly. And something tells me that this poor, abused calendar is just not going to survive two more extra-excited pairs of hands this year!

The only hard part will be choosing which new one to make... hmmm....


Looking a bit shabby now, poor thing, and this photo was taken a ye		ar ago.

Conversation on the Way Home from School

2011-12-07T09:57:00.001-08:00

Zelakesh: Mom, I'm making you something in kindergarten. I can't say. A secret thing.

Gwen: Ooh, that sounds exciting!

Zelakesh: I give hint. Starts with... what "card" start with?

Gwen: It starts with a C.

Zelakesh: Okay! Surprise starts with C. With a tree on the front. (pause) Mom, what "green" start with?

Gwen: "Green" starts with a G.

Zelakesh: Okay! The surprise starts with G.

Gwen: Well, that sounds great!

Zelakesh: Can you guess what it is?

Gwen: I have no idea. But I can't wait to find out!

note: I posted this on Facebook yesterday, but it's so cute that I couldn't resist putting it here too!

A Little of This

2011-12-05T10:23:00.000-08:00

...and a little of that.

Here's a glimpse into what we've been doing lately.

Our kitchen cabinets have arrived!
I'm super excited.
Work starts after Christmas,
when Mr. Gwen has a little extra time.

I'm really enjoying hair time nowadays!
I will admit to you right now that I still can't do a cornrow to save my life.
The two strand flat twists are fun and easy, and they last for a long time,
but they're still not proper cornrows. I'm going to keep trying, though.

I love this style! Unfortunately the puffs don't protect her hair
all that well, so this style doesn't stay in for more than four or five days
before I take it out or modify the puffs. Super cute, though.

We're back to a winter wonderland!
The weather outside truly has been frightful lately.

A rare sighting of a happy sibling group.

My bathroom scale stopped being accurate about 8 years ago,
and got thrown away about 5 years ago.
I finally bought a new one last month, just like the one in this stock photo.
The number shown in the picture (above)
is a long way down from the number I'm seeing on my new scale.
I'm not 100% thrilled about it.
And that's all I'm going to say about that.

We finally managed to get some whole-family photos

Amaris

Shiloh

Eyoel

Zelakesh

Owned

2011-12-02T06:52:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, Zelakesh spent the afternoon drawing pictures and giving them to various family members. This is a big deal for her: during her first six or seven months in Canada, she refused to draw anything at all. She was frustrated at her inability to draw recognizable pictures, and (being quite the little perfectionist) would get very angry at herself when a picture didn't turn out the way she imagined it.

At the end of the summer, she began to draw little things. Smiley suns, people (complete with brea$ts, nipp1es, ears and eyebrows), tukuls, trees. She had never even held a pencil until she arrived in Addis Ababa, but after only a few months of practice, her drawing ability is skyrocketing. It's so neat! I love that she's finally feeling confident enough to draw her own pictures

So, right. After an afternoon of drawing, Zelakesh presented me with a lovely picture of Mr Gwen, Zelakesh and me, all standing together next to a brown tukul. She'd drawn some nice green grass (neatly mown into even spikes) and a lovely blue sky. She was so proud.

But sadly that evening I made her angry. (I said "No" to a second bowl of ice cream. Unreasonable, I know.) Her eyebrows drew together. Her lips squeezed into a thin line. Her chin lowered mutinously. She marched into the computer room. She seized her blue Fiskars. She stomped over to the fridge, seized the picture, and proceeded to show me exactly where we stood.

I don't have a good feeling about this.

And this, my friends, pretty much sums up
the emotional rollercoaster known as older child adoption!

Good to Know

2011-12-01T08:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I spent the afternoon at my children's school, at the special classroom "Open House" for parents to admire their children's work.

Teacher: Well, Mrs. Gwen, Eyoel has been working hard to learn his letters! I'm very proud of him.
Eyoel: I am happy! I like learning letters.
Teacher (beaming): Mrs. Gwen, he is so enthusiastic! He is a pleasure to teach.
Eyoel: I will learn letters so when I am adult man, I will have a good job with lots of money.
Teacher: It's important to learn to read, isn't it?
Eyoel: Yes. I will get a wife and many many childs when I am adult man, then I will be boss of them.
Teacher: Oh, my.
Eyoel: And if the children are rude, I will hit them with a big stick.
Gwen (loudly): Well! What lovely work you've done here. Shall we move on to the kindergarten room?

A peaceful scene in Wolayta.

Fizzly Fizzler

2011-11-22T13:55:00.001-08:00

Right, so NaNoWriMo is not going so well. I have three valid excuses:

I only decided to join NaNoWriMo on October 30. I had some vague ideas about a setting, and a couple of vivid characters. I had absolutely no plot and no outline. My hope was that the characters would jump into action and drive the plot by themselves, with little input from me. This has not happened. Good grief, no, this has not happened at all.
Some things have popped up in my family life, which required my attention.
And finally, the biggest impediment of all: my awesome sister is writing the freaking Great Canadian Novel and, in return for compliments and feedback, has been sending me chapters and scenes daily. You know what this means? This means that I am totally consumed with her novel. This means that I am dreaming about her characters. This means that I wake up early every day (not joking) to check my email and read the next installment. It's a page-turner, folks, and it's driven all thoughts of my own sad novel right out of my little head! Just wait until you read it... until you see the movie version.... and until you see it on every Canadian Literature course reading list. Because it IS that good.

So although I may have failed NaNoWriMo2011, I think I have been a raving success at NaSiNoWriPriSuPerMo2011.* Yay!

* National Sister's Novel Writing Primary Support Person Month 2011

ps - New template. You like?

Now I Would Know

2011-11-04T06:02:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday, Dad. I love you.

1993

Bored
All those times I was bored
out of my mind. Holding the log
while he sawed it. Holding
the string while he measured, boards,
distances between things, or pounded
stakes into the ground for rows and rows
of lettuces and beets, which I then (bored)
weeded. Or sat in the back
of the car, or sat still in boats,
sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel
he drove, steered, paddled. It
wasn't even boredom, it was looking,
looking hard and up close at the small
details. Myopia. The worn gunwales,
the intricate twill of the seat
cover. The acid crumbs of loam, the granular
pink rock, its igneous veins, the sea-fans
of dry moss, the blackish and then the graying
bristles on the back of his neck.
Sometimes he would whistle, sometimes
I would. The boring rhythm of doing
things over and over, carrying
the wood, drying
the dishes. Such minutiae. It's what
the animals spend most of their time at,
ferrying the sand, grain by grain, from their tunnels,
shuffling the leaves in their burrows. He pointed
such things out, and I would look
at the whorled texture of his square finger, earth under
the nail. Why do I remember it as sunnier
all the time then, although it more often
rained, and more birdsong?
I could hardly wait to get
the hell out of there to
anywhere else. Perhaps though
boredom is happier. It is for dogs or
groundhogs. Now I wouldn't be bored.
Now I would know too much.
Now I would know.

-- Margaret Atwood

If They Asked Me...

2011-11-02T16:02:00.000-07:00

I could write a book.

I'm taking part in NaNoWriMo, so my bloggish blethering posts will be fewer and farther between than ever.

And I do have to admit (confidentially of course, because she won't like it that I'm saying this): I've read my sister's manuscript. Two days into NaNoWriMo, with a goal of 1,167 words per day, and it's already obvious that her novel will be winning the Booker prize. Folks, she is just downright amazing. Amazing, I tell you. Simply spiffing. I'm so proud of her.

I'll be putting my head down and typing madly for the next 28 days. Catch you on the flip side!

Desperately Seeking Counter Space

2011-10-26T09:38:00.000-07:00

So, our kitchen has officially reached Absurdly Small for a Family of Six status, and I have officially reached Stay Out of My Kitchen While I'm Cooking or I'll Clobber You with this Frying Pan status.

If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.... so we're thinking of knocking out a wall and expanding.

I'm looking for advice. What are the things that you really love or really hate about your kitchen? What could you not live without? If you renovated or designed your kitchen, did you spend time and money on something that turned out to be a waste? If you could do it again, what would you do differently?

Go on, give a girl a hand here. Any tips or tricks?

It's getting serious, folks.

Language: Coming Along by Leaps and Bounds

2011-10-05T19:48:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here on the computer, listening to Eyoel and Zelakesh as they are playing (which is, in itself, a miracle, although that's another post) and these are some phrases I'm hearing:

"Okay, I hid the mystery object!"

"Don't tell where!"

"You're getting hot... no, now you're cold."

"Want me to give you a clue?"

"I found it!"

"Now it's my turn. No peeking!"

"Are you ready now?"

"Not yet! I can't find a good place to hide it!"

They've been in Canada less than eight months. I think they'll have little Canadian accents by next summer!

A Berbere Important Post

2011-09-30T05:16:00.000-07:00

(har, har.)

Berbere (Ethiopian Spice Mixture)
(makes about 2/3 cup)

1/2 teaspoon allspice
1 1/2 teaspoon cardamom
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
2 teaspoon fenugreek
2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg (optional)
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
3/4 cup hot peppers (I use a combination of ground African Red Devil peppers, cayenne pepper, dried chili peppers and paprika)
2 tablespoons salt (omit if desired)

In a heavy skillet over medium heat, toast the dried spices for a few minutes, stirring or shaking the skillet continuously to avoid scorching. Remove from heat and allow to cool. Grind the mixture in a spice grinder or blender or with a mortar and pestle. Store in a tightly-sealed container.

Insert Cry of Pain (Here)

2011-09-29T09:44:00.000-07:00

While making Injera just now, I mixed in the flour, baking powder and salt and FORGOT TO SAVE SOME OF THE STARTER FOR NEXT TIME.

Back to square one.

No Big Deal

2011-09-26T11:46:00.000-07:00

We made bagels.

We did hair.

And that was our Sunday.

Betwixt and Between

2011-09-24T14:20:00.000-07:00

My 13 year old daughter, Amaris, is such a funny mix of cool and clueless. She's a lovely girl, very active, very dramatic, with a large circle of friends. She's into soccer, clothes, hanging with friends, crushing on boys, reading, doing hair. She's an amazing pianist -- self taught, very talented, loves to practice -- and an excellent cook.

She is sitting at the table just now, filling out a consent form to play in an out-of-town tournament next weekend. "Mom," she just called out, "I'm done. Could you sign this?"

I read it over before signing at the bottom. The form said, "Do you have any of the following? Diabetes / Epilepsy / Heart condition / Asthma / Other."

She put an "x" in each box -- because she doesn't have any of them.

Man, I love having older children!

Sorry To Myself

2011-09-21T07:17:00.000-07:00

To whom do I owe the first apology?

No one's been crueler than I've been to me

I'm sorry to myself

My apologies begin here before everybody else

I'm sorry to myself

For treating me worse than I would anybody else

For smiling when my strife was all too obvious...
For beating myself up and overfunctioning...
For my self love being so embarrassingly conditional...*

Self Care: It's more than just a blank to fill in on the homestudy forms, folks, and I've been doing precious little of it. An apology is in order. Here goes:

Dear Gwen,

I'm sorry for being so false, for faking a happy family when the reality was much different. I wish I hadn't said "Oh, things are great!" in such a chipper voice when friends asked. I'm sorry for protecting our privacy so fiercely that I prevented friends from helping. I was too ashamed to simply ask for help from those that offered, and I regret that now.

I'm sorry for caring so little about myself that I allowed myself to go seven months - seven months! - with no physical exercise. I'm sorry that I turned to food for comfort. I let myself get so terribly out of shape that I have months and months of hard work ahead of me now.

I'm sorry for feeling such shame over not homeschooling. I made a difficult time even more difficult by feeling like a failure. Why couldn't I have simply been happy about making the best decision for our whole family? I'm sorry for judging myself so much more harshly than I judge others.

I'm sorry that when times got tough, I second-guessed every decision we've ever made. I'm sorry that I had so little faith in our ability to follow God's direction that I fell apart under the stress. I wallowed in regret and despair during the hardest days, and felt so crushed by the weight of what we'd done. It was wrong to believe that my panic-fueled thoughts were true, and I regret that now.

I'm sorry that I expected myself to immediately adore my new children unconditionally. I shouldered a heavy burden of expectation, then beat myself up for being unable to carry it. I expected myself to be so perfect, so full of largesse, so impossibly large-hearted. My children are lovable, wonderful, precious kids -- but they came to me as older, post-institutionalized kids with difficult survival behaviours deeply ingrained. I'm sorry that I didn't cut myself more slack, give myself more time.

I'm sorry that I analyzed my feelings in such paralyzing detail.

And finally -- and this is the biggest one -- I'm sorry for constantly weighing myself in the scales of comparison, and for invariably finding myself wanting. I'm sorry for looking inward and seeing the ugly things, the lacking things, the inadequacy and the failures -- for seeing only the weakness and disregarding the strength.

I'm forgiving myself -- I'm moving past this. I'm done being sorry; I'm ready to let it go. Let's wipe the slate clean. Time to start over.

Love,
Gwen

* Lyrics by Alanis Morissette, obviously, because everything she says is brilliant and everything she writes is uncannily applicable to my feelings and I'm her emotional twin and I really should get a cut of her fortune because we are freakishly similar. Except, you know, the whole Being A Christian part and the Keeping My Nose (Hands?) Clean During My Wild Youth part and, of course, the undeniable Not a Very Good Singer/Songwriter part. But in every other way.

You like me! Right now, you like me!

2011-09-18T21:56:00.000-07:00

Well gosh and darn, people, you've been kind to this grumpy, faithless blogger. Thanks to those of you flamboyant souls who commented, and thanks also to those who have been lurking behind the curtains, suffering from comment-o-phobia, who emailed me privately. You are sweet, sweet, sweet indeed. I feel so loved.

I've come to a couple decisions:

I like being able to jabber on without anybody rudely interrupting me. I like my little soapbox, even if it's on a very quiet street corner, and I'd be sorry to see it broken down and tossed into the scrap pile.
Most of the pressure to blog has come because I felt that I had to write about adoption. Quite frankly I am a bit weary of talking about adoption -- because I am living the difficult parts of it right now. Some days I would be happy to talk about something else, anything else, and briefly forget about the challenges our family is facing.
So, I'm going to keep the blog up and running, but my posts may still be few and far between. They won't be all about adoption. Perhaps one day I'll become more eloquent and more interesting, but for now I'll just post whenever the bloggish spirit moves me.

Thanks again for your kind words. I guess the old girl still has a few posts in her, after all.

Five Glorious Years of Blethering

2011-09-10T10:44:00.000-07:00

I'd meant to write a post on September 2, but somehow just didn't find the time or the energy. ("How could that be?" you ask.) On that momentous day, I marked the fifth year of posting on the Blethering Spot. I've wasted my time, and yours, saying a lot of things during those five years.

I abandoned Blogger and went to Wordpress. Then I came back, hanging my head in shame and begging for another chance.
I blathered on about nothing in particular. I did this a lot. And I mean a lot.
I wrote my own eulogy.
I mercilessly mocked my BFF.
I talked about women.
I talked about my childhood.
I reavealed my violent nature.
I was arrested and incarcerated.
I admitted my failures as a parent.
I set the record straight about lies that were circulating about me.
I tried (and failed spectacularly) to be a top Canadian writer.
I wrote about my feelings for crappy dog owners.

And now, here I am.

I've heard the stats that blogs rarely last past a year or two, and I can definitely see why. After five years, the Blethering Spot has undeniably turned into an arid wasteland. Readership is at an all-time, rock-bottom low. New posts are few and far between. The bloggy wallpaper in this house is peeling, folks, and it's time to either bring in the wrecking ball or do some renovations.

A blog changes as the blogger changes. This particular blog started as a homeschooling blog, morphed into a "this is my life and I'm loving it" blog, then changed into an adoption blog. And now, there's just too much going on in my post-adoption life that I'm unwilling to post about, and far too little energy to expend on faking it. My sense of humour has curled into a ball and gone into a looooong hibernation. And although I occasionally decide to try blogging again, my resolutions don't last more than a few days. LAME-O!

Perhaps it's just run its course?

So I'm not really sure where I'm going with the Blethering Spot. I'm trying to decide whether to just leave it up and pop in occasionally, allowing readership to dwindle away to zero, or if I should just delete the whole thing.

So I'm asking YOU, my very few remaining readers (reader? dear Lord, maybe it's singular): what do you think? Is it time to gracefully bow out?

There's no right answer.

Go on. Tell me.

Bob LeBlah

2011-08-28T15:56:00.000-07:00

Things are a little bit hard just now. I've got a major case of the blahs going on -- issues we're struggling with that don't seem to be improving -- frustration -- hopelessness -- and the ever-present grief in all six of us. They weren't kidding around when they said that international adoption isn't for the faint of heart. And when you add "older child" to that... boy, sometimes it's tough. I'm searching for that light at the end of this dark tunnel, but some days it's hard to see.

Briefly, here's what's been going on in the land of the Blethering Spot:

We passed our one-year referralversary on August 18. It was fun to remember our thoughts and feelings on that day, and also a little bit sad to look back and realize that I've traded in all that excitement for this plodding endurance run. Like I said... things are hard right now.
I turned 36 on August 14 -- I meant to read last year's "Letter to Myself at 35," but didn't find the time. Next year.
The kids and I went down to the Island for three weeks this summer, to visit family and friends. I reconnected with my old high school best friend, and it was absolutely amazing. We hadn't seen each other in about 13 years, and once we started talking again, it felt like only a few weeks since we'd talked. I have every intention of keeping in touch from now on!
We visited our trusty homeopath while on the Island, and I think we're making great strides towards healing. With homeopathy, things often get worse before they get better, so I'm holding onto that through these difficult days.
Eyoel turned 8 while we were on the Island. We had a big traditional Ethiopian feast, with an ice cream cake for dessert. He was overwhelmed with the (small) pile of gifts, and kept shouting, "That's all for me! That's all for me!"
I finally met the amazing Justine in person. Justine's was the very first adoption blog I ever read. Back in 2007, I found her blog by clicking "Next Blog" on the Blogger toolbar. Seriously! We only had a few hours to spend, talking and hanging out with our husbands and kids, but I enjoyed every minute of those hours. One day, Justine, you and I are going to need to have a proper visit! I'm really thinking about Harambee next year....?

Family breakfasts with my parents

We missed Mr. Gwen tremendously.
He flew down to be with us during the last week of our vacation,
and we all drove back together.

My sister = my best friend

A Wolaytan-style sand village

Look Ma!

First ever water park experience. Definitely a success.

My sister's back yard is an absolute haven for the weary!

Brotherly love was in the air

My Ethiopian kids finally got warmed through, after a long winter and spring.

My parents covered the cost for us to take the BC Ferry
from Northern BC down to Vancouver Island.
It's an all-day ride, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

When they're in their teens, a genuine smile like this is a beautiful thing!

This guy is a major waterbaby, and could stay in the lake all day if we let him!

We found a mermaid at the lake

Remembering Jack Layton

2011-08-25T10:44:00.000-07:00

2011-08-24T11:55:00.000-07:00

Eyoel: Mom, can you show me how to play that music [Moonlight Sonata] on the piano?

Mom: Honey, it takes a very long time to learn to play that.

Eyoel: Oh, okay. [pause] How about after lunch?

the Lifebooks: A Tiny Glimpse

2011-07-22T06:34:00.000-07:00

What is a lifebook? Beth O Malley says, "An Adoption Life Book is a record of a foster/adoptee’s life that uses words, photos, graphics, the child’s artwork, and memorabilia. An Adoption Life Book includes information about the child’s birth parents and reason for leaving them. It always starts at the child’s birth. Plus the fun part of when the adopted child first joined the family. An Adoption Life Book is more than a life story. It is a unique opportunity for parents to honor every minute of their children’s lives."

What is not a lifebook? It's not a regular photo scrapbook, although I did mine in scrapbook format. The words are really important, because it's the words that tell the child's story. It's not about the adoption process. I originally thought we'd put in lots about the adoption process itself, but changed my mind in the end -- the lifebooks are not about the adoptive parents. They are about the adoptee, and the adoptee doesn't care all that much about my printout of the DHL tracker of the application to Citizenship and Immigration Canada. Those things are my memories, and can be preserved in a separate scrapbook. A lifebook is about the child.

Here are some great starting points for making your lifebooks:

http://www.scrapandtell.com/LifebookTips.asp

http://www.scrapandtell.com/scott.asp

http://www.adoptionscrapbooker.com/adoption%20scrapbooking.html

http://www.adoptionlifebooks.com

http://www.lifebooksource.com

I'm far from an expert on lifebooks. I know that there are lots of parents out there who have created wonderful treasures for their children -- lifebooks that are poignant and beautiful and artistic. Mine aren't works of art, but they are certainly treasured by my kids already!

I got the bulk of the pages done between the court trip and the "pick up" trip. This was a sheer stroke of genius. Once we were home with our dulcet darlings, all I had to do was quickly put together the last few pages, the "Leaving the Transition House" page, the "Last Days in Ethiopia" pages, and the "Trip Home" and "Welcome to Canada!" pages. If I'd left the entire lifebooks to do once the children were home, I'd be chipping away at them over the next few years. That's no exaggeration! If you're between court and visa, I strongly recommend doing as much of your child's lifebook as you can now, while you have uninterrupted time -- and the ability to leave glue sticks, scissors, photos and scrapbooking paper lying on a table without worrying about curious little hands!

Now, look. Sharing photos of the entire lifebooks online would be a massive, unforgivable invasion of my children's privacy, so I'm not even remotely tempted to do such a thing. With that said, I found it so helpful to have some examples when I was making these lifebooks, so I will show you just a few edited pages without disclosing any private information.

Disclaimer: a scrapbooking genius I am not. If you're a crafty sort, please don't judge me!

These pages were part of a poster that a friend made for our "baby" shower.
They include the children's names and the meanings of the names.
Since she'd made them on scrapbooking paper,
they are the perfect first pages for our lifebooks!

I made a few pages about Wolayta --
my children's beautiful home village is in this zone,
which lies in the SNNP region in southwest Ethiopia.
I wrote about local customs, geography,
and the animals specific to the SNNP region.

A great map of the SNNP region, a donkey and a tukul.
What's not to like?

So, yeah, a little on the kitschy side.
But they love these pages!
The animal prints bring out the wild beasts
that lurk inside my sweet little doves.
ROAR!

A 21st century family tree.
The leaves at the bottom spell out,
"We are all your family."
I worry about this wording, and wonder if I should change it to
"We are all in your family," or "We are all part of your family."

The first of the Transition House pages.
Ages ago, all Imagine Adoption clients were emailed photos of the TH.
I printed them out, glued them onto cardstock backs,
and made a little envelope for them right in the lifebooks.
(That's the part that says, "Want to see more photos?")
The kids love taking out the pictures and shuffling through them.

Final days in Ethiopia:
in a taxi, Entoto Mtn, a traditional meal,
and one last trip to the barber for Eyoel!

At the end of the book -- the trip home to Canada.
These pages include a picture of the children
with their hot-off-the-press Canadian Citizenship Certificates.

Since we talk daily and matter-of-factly about the children's history,
I was surprised that the Lifebooks spurred so many conversations and questions.
It really is true: adopted children feel that they need YOUR permission
to talk about, feel about and question their history.

In this photo, they're looking at the little take-out Transition House pictures.

Letter to a Friend

2011-07-20T16:06:00.000-07:00

Dear Friend,

One day in Ethiopia when all our friends in the guest house were heading out to the market, Zelakesh was having a big fuss because I wouldn't give her more gum. She had gone into my handbag while I was getting dressed, taken out my blister pack of gum and chewed up every single piece, then spat them out and stuffed the chewed wads back into the blister pack. When she demanded more, I refused. Well, the earth stopped turning, the sun stopped shining, and all hell broke loose. I can still hear her echoing screams, "Masticaaaaaaaa! Masticaaaaaaaa!"

I told you in an email that I spent that trip either crying or trying desperately not to cry. The other parents at the Guest House must have wondered at my very small bladder, because I was constantly leaving the group to go upstairs "to the bathroom." Yes, I was going upstairs to the bathroom, but it was so I could cry in private.

We've been together for close to six months. Honestly, my friend, it's like we have different children now. The other day, Zelakesh suddenly remembered what she did with the gum that day. She laughed and said, "Oh, no! I very rude in Addis Ababa! I cry, want gum. Zelakesh very rude to Mommy. I sorry, Mommy."

My point is, this is a very small time in your new life together -- just a tiny blip when you look at all the good years before you. The day will come (I think very soon) that you will be snuggling with your child and laughing and enjoying every minute with your child, and your child will be enjoying every minute with you.

Crying, wishing things were different, feeling like you'll scream if you don't get away from your child -- these things don't make you a bad mom. They make you a HUMAN mom! Those years of longing for a child don't require you to be a perfect saint with endless patience. The fact is, this is a terrible time. Our children are grieving and confused, and WE are grieving and confused. You're grieving the loss of your expectations and adjusting to your new reality. What you are feeling is totally normal.

All the best to you, my friend. Take the breaks you need; they will help you through this time. Leave your child with your husband, go out with a friend or just go out alone. Get your husband to take your child out to the park, and have a long, slow bubble bath. Read a book, pray, watch a funny movie and laugh. Laughter really did keep me sane for the first three months.

You'll make it. Things are going to get so much better, these first days will be a blurry memory that will make you laugh and shake your head. Honestly! Hang in there! You're a great mom already, and things are going to get better and better with time.

love Gwen

Hallelujah! part 2

2011-07-16T14:41:00.000-07:00

I only have a minute, but I have to say WOW. The lifebooks are an absolutely resounding success. My kids just can't get enough of them, they've been poring over them and exclaiming, and questioning, and pointing, and sighing with pleasure, for over an hour. If you've adopted an older child, I so highly recommend taking the time to do a lifebook. Even if you, like me, hate the very thought of a glue stick.

Really. Do it.

Pics forthcoming.

Hallelujah! The Lifebooks are Finished

2011-07-16T00:37:00.000-07:00

The lifebooks are officially finished, as of five minutes ago. I'd rather dice fifty pounds of onions, run a full marathon without water, or even get six root canals than sit around for hours, fussing with glue sticks and fancy scrapbooking paper. You can imagine how exhausted and relieved I am that these things are finished.

They don't even look half bad, if I do say so myself.

We'll present them to Eyoel and Zelakesh tomorrow; I can't wait to see their reaction. Will keep you posted. Will also post some heavily-airbrushed photos of the books soon, to help fellow scrapbookily-challenged mamas like myself. Stay tuned.

Boo-yah!

2011-07-10T17:35:00.000-07:00

Best moment of my weekend: being approached by a black woman on the soccer field and having this conversation:

Woman: "Is this your daughter?" [gesturing to Zelakesh]

Gwen (gearing up for a potentially unpleasant conversation): "Yes."

Woman: "Who did her hair?"

Gwen: "Er, just me."

Woman: "Are you serious? Girl, those braids are perfect. You obviously know what you're doing."

OH, YEAH!

Now that's what I'm talking about.

In other weekend news, Eyoel took his first turn as goaltender in his soccer game, and revealed himself to be the next Iker Casillas. He had a shut out in the first half, with spectacular moves that elicited lots of wows and great saves... until he wandered off the field in mid-play to tell me he was hungry, and let in three goals because he couldn't peel his eyes off a kid on the sidelines who was eating chips.

Aw, shucks.

I Have to Agree

2011-07-02T20:52:00.000-07:00

This evening Eyoel yawned and asked, "When is bedtime?"

"Pretty soon, honey," I replied, ruffling his hair. "Are you tired?"

"Me, no tired," he said seriously. "But my eyes -- they think, bedtime good idea."

O Canada!

2011-07-01T10:04:00.000-07:00

Happy Canada Day to all Canadians, home and abroad!

Mystery Blogger: The Horror! The Horror! (Rage)

2011-06-23T10:37:00.000-07:00

Please note: Names and other details have been changed to protect our Mystery Blogger's anonymity, and I have re-written the email in my own words.

Far and away the hardest time for us was the first six or seven months. We picked up Gennet when she was four, and while we were in Ethiopia she was the most perfectly behaved child we'd ever seen. She was sweet and gentle, laughing and playing and smiling at everyone, and we thought we had just adopted an angel from heaven.

But the moment we walked through the front door of our house, our angel morphed into a... well, you know!

I heard a lot about tantrums when I was researching adoption, but I didn't understand just how extreme those behaviours would be. I didn't anticipate the biting, scratching, kicking, hitting and spitting. Oh, the spitting!

Gennet started each day with a full-out tantrum. Well, the word "tantrum" seems too gentle and tame to describe what she did. No matter how we tried to work around it, as soon as we had to say "no" to one of her demands she would fall into a rage, lashing out like a vicious animal, biting and kicking and scratching. Her screams actually made the china rattle in our china cabinet. She kicked a hole in the wall of the living room one day after I'd said "No, you can't have coffee. How about some juice?"

If we tried to hold her, she would bite us. If she couldn't manage to give us a good hard bite, she would try to scratch out our eyes. She broke my husband's glasses, trying to scratch his eyes -- twice!

After a couple months, Gennet changed her battle strategy: when something happened to make her angry, she would just smile. Then she'd go off somewhere by herself and -- well -- defecate. She would take her own feces and proceed to wipe them all around the house, concentrating on our bedroom.

I know that Gennet isn't really angry about not being allowed coffee. I know that her anger is really grief. But finding stinky brown smears on my pillow was not what I bargained for when we signed the paperwork! Luckily, that stage only lasted for a couple weeks.

I didn't want to talk to my friends about any of this, and although I do have a small blog I didn't want to write about it. As far as the world knows, we were all as happy as clams from day one. I don't want my daughter's problems to be known by the whole world! She can't control her rage, and I don't want to expose her trauma and grief to others.

But in the first days home, it would have been so encouraging to know that other people had gone through this. And I would have loved to hear these words: IT GETS BETTER! It gets so much better. Gennet never did go back to being the perfect angel that she was in Ethiopia. But that's a good thing -- no child is that perfect, especially not a child who has been through everything that she's been through. But she is a different child from that screaming monster that destroyed everything in her path all those months ago. For your readers who are in the first few weeks or months: don't give up. No matter what your child does, hang in there, persevere and know that things will get better. Don't give up!

Thanks for sharing your story, Mystery Blogger!

If you would like to anonymously share some of the tougher adoption stuff you've experienced, please email me at bletheringspot@gmail.com. I will change any identifying details of your story to preserve your anonymity, and if we ever meet at a party I will pretend I don't know you.

TWO Great Attachment Moments Today

2011-06-22T21:21:00.000-07:00

Now you see them...

...now you don't.

Am writing with only a couple minutes to spare, so please excuse the shabby writing.

Zelakesh went in for dental surgery today (just another part of older child adoption) and I saw not one but TWO great signs of attachment today!

(1) Eyoel played at a friend's house from 8:00am to 2:15pm. That's a long time for a kid who's only been in Canada for four months. When I picked him up, I said to him, "Did you have lots of fun today?"
"Yes, lots fun," he said.
He was quiet for a minute, looking out the window of the van, then he said, "But I sad. I miss you Mom. [Friend's] Mom nice, but not my Mom. YOU my Mom."
OKAY, DING DONG!!!!! Super major awesome attachment moment there!

(2) When Zelakesh woke up from her surgery, woozy and sore, she cried and clung to me for a LONG time. She kept saying, "Want go home. Zelakesh want go home with Mommy."
Now, this might not seem like a big deal, but I thought it was great that she feels that our home is her home, and it's a safe place to be. I counted this as a sign of good attachment!

Please note: I removed yesterday's post because I realized that it was rude, insulting and hurtful. While it wasn't my intention to cause offense, the last thing I want to do is hurt people with my words. I apologize for my thoughtlessness, and will try to watch my words in the future.

Mystery Guest Blogger: The Need for Control

2011-06-20T14:06:00.000-07:00

Please note: Names and other details have been changed to protect our Mystery Blogger's anonymity, and I have re-written the email in my own words.

We adopted Min-Ji when she was seven months old, and since she was so young, I foolishly hoped to dodge some of the adoption issues I had read about. Silly me! Min-Ji is four now, and one of the toughest things we have to deal with is her ongoing need for extreme control.

You name it... she has to control it. She bosses everyone from her preschool teacher, to her older sister, to her Grandpa, to the UPS man! We were able to work around it when she was younger, but lately Min-Ji's need for control has escalated to the point of absurdity. I went back to work this past fall, and I think that stress tipped the scales. If she doesn't get what she wants, she falls onto the floor and goes into an uncontrollable fit of crying. Her crying is not anger-crying, it sounds like pure grief.

For example, this weekend I sat down on the couch. (Sounds innocent, right?) Min-Ji looked up from her play on the floor and told me to sit on the other side of the couch. Since there was a stack of folded laundry on the other side of the couch, I wasn't able to move over without a lot of hassle. Min-Ji went into total meltdown mode, and sobbed about it, clinging to me, for about 45 minutes.

I've been reading about the need for control in adopted children, and I'm starting to understand that it's a sign of developmental trauma. Even a small perceived trauma -- even something as silly as where Mom sits down -- is translated into another source of trauma and grief for them. I believe that when Min-Ji is unable to dictate the little details in her life, her fear of abandonment comes back, and with it all the trauma that she felt in the orphanage, even as an infant. It's so sad to know that my daughter has experienced such basic abandonment, and will have to work through it for many years to come.

Thanks for sharing your story, Mystery Blogger!

If you would like to anonymously share some of the tougher adoption stuff you've experienced, please email me at bletheringspot@gmail.com I will change any identifying details of your story to preserve your anonymity, and if we ever meet at a party I will pretend I don't know you.

Food! Glorious Food!

2011-06-18T18:14:00.000-07:00

Note: I have about two dozen posts on my blogger dashboard marked as "draft" from the last four months. I started them in a burst of optimism, but was always called away by one disaster or another and never managed to complete any of them. I'm going to try to salvage some of them now, although by now they are several months out of date, and not one of them are well written. Still, hopefully even messy and fragmented posts might help out those who are just about to pick up their children.

One of the biggest issues we have dealt with, with Eyoel and Zelakesh, is food. If you've done any digging at all into the world of older child adoption, you'll know that this is a hot topic! I'm far from an expert, but I'll tell you about our experience.

To begin with, the quantities of food that these kids consume are absolutely staggering. Zelakesh (5) eats about twice the amount of food that Mr. Gwen consumes, and Eyoel (7) eats about three times that. It's incredible. They just seem to have hollow legs! Here's our schedule:

7:30 am: pre-breakfast (toast with peanut butter, tea)
9:00 am: breakfast (omelette, toast, tea)
10:30 am: snack
12:00 pm: lunch
2:00 pm: snack
4:00 pm: snack
6:00 pm: dinner
7:30 pm: snack

It's downright exhausting! I do hold onto the hope that it won't always be this way, but right now we're just letting it happen. Children who have known hunger tend to not recognize the feelings of being full, so that's something that our children will eventually need to learn. But at this point, I just think they're making up for lost time!

1. Bread, bread, bread. It is the staff of life. My kids devour, absolutely devour bread. When they first came into our care, they were accustomed to eating huge slabs of white bread with cups and cups of heavily sugared tea. Thankfully they've gotten used to home-baked whole grain bread, but it hasn't been without its struggles. I would suggest to you, if you're bringing home older children, that you either learn to make bread, or start filling your freezer now. My two children eat an entire loaf of bread for their pre-breakfast, plus more bread mid-morning and mid-afternoon. I'm baking five loaves of bread every other day, and that barely keeps up to the demand.

2. Black Tea. Darjeeling, orange pekoe, Ceylon, English Breakfast, Irish Breakfast, Assam... they drink it all. While we were in Ethiopia, we didn't protest when Zenabah (the lovely and talented cook at the KVI Guest House) stirred three or four heaping spoons of sugar into their demitasse cups. They were clearly accustomed to this much sugar in their tea, and it wasn't a hill that we were going to die on. The first morning in Canada, I started rationing the sugar to 2 tsp per cup, and decreased it slightly each day. By the end of the second week, there was a limit of 1/8 tsp per cup, and although they still ask for more (and sneak sugar from the sugar bowl if I leave it on the table), they are content. Also, at first the children would guzzle pots and pots and pots of tea, but as I cut down on the sugar, they cut down on the quantities. After about a month, I started limiting tea according to the time of day -- none after 2:00.

3. Eggs. We can't get enough of them. Eyoel and Zelakesh began their new life in Canada by consuming four or five eggs per day (each). If I'd let them have unlimited quantities, I can only guess how many they would have eaten! We made an eight-egg omelette every morning for a few weeks, then I cut it back to a six egg omelette five days a week. Currently (four months in) I make a six-egg omelette about three days per week.

We are so blessed to have a friend of ours, who keeps chickens, supply us with three dozen eggs per week, absolutely free. The eggs are lovely, with deep golden yolks, and I feel so good knowing that her chickens are fed no antibiotics, are totally free-range, etc. If we were buying free-range organic eggs from the grocery store, I think we would have had to take out a second mortgage to cover the cost!

4. Meat. We were expecting meat-crazy children, but we haven't experienced that. The children definitely want to have meat for at least one meal per day, but they don't scream for steak first thing in the morning. However, Eyoel has told us many times that he had no meat when he lived in Wolayta, and there wasn't much meat in KVI. Meat, for Ethiopian children, equals security and prosperity. We are careful to always offer meat for at least one meal per day, and the children seem happy.

As to quantity, though... wow. Zelakesh isn't crazy about lots of meat, as long as she gets some. Eyoel, however, could easily eat a 10 oz. steak every day if he was allowed. And he is not happy if he sees that someone else at the table got more meat on their plate than he did.

5. Traditional Food. Don't underestimate the importance of serving traditional Ethiopian food. During the first few weeks, I made sure that we had injera and wats at least once per week. Lately, (after four months) we're down to serving traditional food every ten to fourteen days. But I can't stress enough that the children need traditional food.

When we're having a downright rotten day, when everything has gone wrong and I have a splitting headache by 10:00 am, I know that we need injera. The children are so, so comforted by a big huge plate of injera and wat, even if it's just a quick batch of Mesir Wat and maybe a little Shiro Wat. They scoop it up with their fingers, always offering bites to the rest of us and each other, and invariably their minds drift back to Ethiopia. We have the best conversations, and they share feelings and memories, after a meal of traditional foods. If you've adopted older children, traditional food is a great way to offer both comfort and an opportunity to share memories of the past.

WANTED: Anonymous Guest Bloggers

2011-06-15T16:11:00.000-07:00

My sister in law gave me a wonderful idea about how to handle the privacy issue. I'm going to quote her email directly:

If you want your blog to be a resource for people who have or are considering adoption maybe you could post anonymous stories from other people. You could also intermingle your own stories anonymously. So, no one would ever know whose kids did what. That is, your blog would become a collection of stories. This way you could help/warn/prepare others. You could also provide an outlet for other mothers to do the same. You could get started by putting up a post asking for readers to e-mail you privately and then you could put the story on your blog and change the names/country of origin/age/etc.

I liked this idea so much that I immediately contacted a few of the mothers who have emailed me about their issues. "How would you feel if I changed any identifying details about your situation," I wrote, "and posted your story on my blog? If you could remain anonymous, is this something you'd like prospective parents to know?"

And without exception, each mother answered "YES!!!"

So, here's the deal. There are tons of other adoption bloggers out there who do give us the goods, straight up. But for the rest of us -- for those who aren't entirely sure that we want our child to be known as the kid who, in a towering rage, stripped off her pants in the supermarket and urinated on the floor in the produce department -- here's a chance to say your piece and remain anonymous.

So, every now and then, if you feel that you want to let prospective parents know about specific issues you face, especially issues that you wish you'd known before adopting, feel free to write me an email. You can change all the identifying details if you like, or I can do it for you. I'll reprint your words, without saying who you are, and will give you my absolute solemn word that I will not disclose your information to anyone else.

Email me at Bletheringspot@gmail.com, with the subject line "Anonymous Guest Blog Post."

Go on... unload! Get writing! Get it off your chest! I'll post the first Mystery Guest Post in the next day or two.

Bloggy Conundrum

2011-06-09T14:51:00.000-07:00

Howdy, folks!

I'm really struggling with knowing how much to say on my blog. Everyone in the adoption world knows that older child adoption isn't without challenges. I get several emails each week, from prospective adoptive parents as well as from parents with children home, asking me to share about specific issues. One of the most difficult things about older child adoption, for me, is having so few people who understand what we're dealing with. I have a couple online friends whom I occasionally call or email, but that's it. It's challenging.

I want to be honest with my readers, and share things I wish I'd known before we brought Eyoel and Zelakesh home. But I also want to protect my children's privacy -- after all, I wouldn't want my problems to be shared with the world at large. I'm erring on the side of discretion, but that does leave this blog pretty empty. If you're wondering why I barely blog any more, that's why.

I know that going private is an option, but... meh. I don't dig private blogs. Blogs were a huge resource for me during the referral wait, and if I can help somebody else in the same way, I don't want to prevent that by going private.

What are your thoughts about sharing our struggles on this blog?

And now the requisite photos, to sweeten this post:

It's official! Proud holders of Canadian Citizenship Certificates.
It looks like Eyoel is crying, but really this is his new "smile for the camera" face.
(Hopefully this particular stage is short-lived.)

Flat twists -- still our very favourite style so far.

My husband's version of morning love notes to me (made with chocolate cookies).
Note the injera starter in the background.

Welcome to Canada, Mr. M!

2011-05-31T09:38:00.000-07:00

Eyoel and Zelakesh's friend from Ethiopia, M., has just arrived in Canada. M., we are so excited that you are home with your new family! Here are some pictures of Eyoel and Zelakesh for you:

Five Years

2011-05-29T19:54:00.000-07:00

Five years ago, my brother-in-law and I were rocking the Renal Care* Department at St. Paul's Hospital in Vancouver. Mr Half Soled Boots, it was worth every milligram of morphine, and if I could go back in time I'd do it all over again.

The Nephro Twins

One year anniversary -- and the best DQ cake EVER.

* It occurred to me, a few days later, that this might have been confusing to anyone without kidney issues. To clarify: my brother-in-law and I were a kidney transplant team. The transplant was successful, and five years later we're both healthy as a couple of horses.

Hair Today: Yarn Twists

2011-05-20T14:06:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned before that I've been wanting to get some extensions in Zelakesh's hair. She seems to closely associate her short hair with the day she entered the orphanage -- most of the children's hair is shaved, to prevent lice and fungal infections -- and she talks incessantly about wanting long hair again.

Her head was last shaved in the Transition House, probably in January. Now, her hair is about 1.5 to 2" when stretched out. Try as I might, I haven't been able to get yarn braids anchored into her hair with this length. But when I saw these Yarn Twists on You Tube this Monday, I just had to give it a go.

And it worked! Details, for those who are interested:

I divided the hair into approx. 1cm squares, all over her head. I'd make a rough estimate of about 70 or 80 twists.
We spent about 8-9 hours, spread over two days. (I was really slow at first -- next time I know it will take less time.)
I used 2 pieces of yarn, folded in the middle, for a total of 4 pieces of yarn per twist.
I used liberal amounts of Taliah Waajid's "Lock It Up" to help anchor the yarn to the hair, and to prevent little bits of hair from poking out of the yarn. The "Lock It Up" worked better than Curly Q's "Gel-les'c."
For yarn twists/braids, do not use wool. I used 100% acrylic Bernat Satin yarn, but I didn't care for it. Even though the satin yarn has a low sheen, it still didn't look real. I'll look for a high-sheen type next time. I wonder if I could use Bamboo yarn? I'm guessing I can't, but I'll research it.
I used black yarn, since I couldn't find a dark enough brown to match Zelakesh's hair. Again, I wasn't pleased with my choice. Next time, I'm going to try a combination of black and brown for a more natural look.

One of the most interesting things about hair time, in our house, is that my son just loves to see his sister's hair being properly cared for. Eyoel has felt responsible for Zelakesh for the last year, and he's taken that responsibility very seriously. I believe that when he sees me doing her hair, he trusts that I love her and that I will properly nurture her. To Caucasians, hair is just... well, just plain old hair. Scrape it into a ponytail and you're done. But to Africans, a child's hairstyle symbolizes that they are loved and nurtured. I really think that Eyoel equates Zelakesh's hairstyles with security, and every time her hair is properly cared for, he feels just a bit more confident that he can trust us to care for her needs.

So, quite frankly, I spend lots of time on Zelakesh's hair for the sake of both children. No, she doesn't really need twists and puffs and hair bands and pretty clips. But I think it's building attachment and security for both of them. It's definitely worth my time.

A tea break in the middle of a very long day

Proud big brother (excuse the Sally Ann donations in the background)

These twists are so versatile!

I had expected (and hoped) to get at least a few weeks out of this style, since it took so long to put in. And yarn extensions are a nice way to protect the hair as it grows. We did the twists on Monday and Tuesday, but Wednesday and Thursday were challenging for Zelakesh. Sadly, the twists didn't survive the storms. Oh, well.... now we know they can be done, and they look awesome! And if nothing else...

...we got a rocking twist-out from them.

I Am Forever Changed

2011-05-16T15:49:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I saw the bottom of the laundry basket.

It was intense. It was exhilarating. It was surreal.

My life will never be the same.

Adoption Magazine Giveaway

2011-05-16T08:08:00.000-07:00

Ooh, another giveaway! Man, I'm all about free products... Mr Gwen nearly had a panic attack when we watched the documentary "Good Hair,"* and he realized that soon we will need to build an addition onto the house just to store all Zelakesh's (and Eyoel's) hair products -- and one of us will need to get a second job just to pay for it all. He wandered around the house for several days in a stupor, muttering things like, "20% of the population purchasing 80% of America's hair products," "I had no idea what we were getting into," and "I didn't even know weaves existed."

Well, Mr Gwen, good news is on the horizon. Adoption Magazine is hosting a giveaway by Nandi Kids -- I ordered from Nandi Kids for the first time just a month or two ago, and I was more than satisfied with their service. Next time I'm ready to order again (oh poor Mr Gwen), I'll be trying out a couple more products, including Taliah Waajid's Protective Mist Bodifier, which is one of the items up for grabs on the giveaway. Yeah!

So, get yourselves over to Adoption Magazine and enter to win win win!

* totally recommended, by the way, although a few parts are not appropriate for children.

Dear Selena

2011-05-10T15:46:00.000-07:00

Well, folks, I have to say that I'm sorry I've let the Blethering Spot become such an arid wasteland. A lovely friend has been nagging me to blog, but I just haven't had much of anything to say. I am struggling not to feel bogged down in a mire of slimy negativity these days, and I just don't want to air our dirty laundry online. (Whoops.... that was a clash of non-matching analogies.) But I have realized that I spent several years happily blogging about nothing at all, yet people seemed not to mind. Perhaps it's time for more of the same?

Her hair is nearly long enough for yarn extensions!

The auto shut-off on my tea kettle has broken, which means that unless I keep an ear out for it (difficult with four kids who run, screaming, around the house), my kitchen often becomes a steam sauna. My Finnish husband doesn't mind in the least, but I'm getting tired of wiping the condensation off the cupboards every time I make a cup of tea. I must start setting the timer to remind myself.

My house is raging, raging, raging out of control. This weekend I spent several hours mucking out our computer room. (Why has this room become the household dumping ground???) There was literally a path to the computer cleared through the knee-high piles. I would have to pick my way through stacks of books, paperwork, dress-up clothes and dry cleaning just to check my emails. Now that I think of it, this is probably why I haven't properly blogged for ages. Who wants to spend time in this pigsty? Not me. It's been official for a while now: I need a housekeeper.

First soccer game ever.

Eyoel started soccer this weekend, and he absolutely loved it. Coincidentally, Amaris was the referee for his game. Fun was had by all! He did really well, considering that this was his first time playing soccer with real equipment and real rules. He did even better once he understood that he was supposed to score on only one of the nets, not both. :)

I feel a great need to have something totally non adoption related to focus on, and I think I know what it should be: I want to learn to play the guitar. Yes! It's true! I plan to learn G, F and C, then squeeze every song I've ever learned into those three chords. First stop: get a guitar.

Oh Baby!

2011-05-06T15:53:00.000-07:00

Oooooh! My friend Ashleigh and her husband have finally received a referral for a beautiful baby girl! Head over to her blog and leave her a big "Congratulations!" Ashleigh, I am SO happy for you and can't wait to follow the rest of your journey!!!

Today's the Day, Canadians!

2011-05-02T12:23:00.000-07:00

Get out and VOTE!

I'm feeling some déjà vu.

IT SHALL BE OURS!!!!

2011-04-26T22:19:00.000-07:00

Lord Stanley, you're coming home.

The Great Pseudonym Reveal

2011-04-25T09:57:00.000-07:00

From the left: Amaris, Eyoel, Zelakesh, Shiloh.

I've finally had a minute to sit down and look over some names. I'm sick and tired, YES, SICK AND TIRED of calling my kids "my [oldest/middle/youngest] daughter," "my son," etc. Let's give them names, people, and get on with it already.

I've tried to choose names that reflect something about each of my children. For those of you who know me in real life, please don't use my children's real names online. I know it's a hassle, but I just don't feel good about letting the world know too much. Oh, baby, baby, it's a wild world.

Without further ado, let me introduce my beautiful children!

On the far left is our 12 year old daughter, whom we'll call "Amaris." This name means "God has promised."

Second from the left is our 7 year old son, whom we'll call "Eyoel." This name means "God prevails."

Second from the right is our 5 year old daughter, whom we'll call "Zelakesh." This name means "She went through."

On the far right is our 11 year old daughter, whom we'll call "Shiloh." This name means "Peace."

It's official: I now have children from A to Z.

That's My King!

2011-04-24T05:08:00.000-07:00

Re-run

2011-04-23T12:10:00.000-07:00

Giveaway at Keep Me Curly!

2011-04-17T16:32:00.000-07:00

Hey girls!

Keep Me Curly is hosting a giveaway of some great artwork called "Hair Time." If you have an Black daughter, you'd love this watercolour! Head over to Keep Me Curly and enter to win win win!

Edited to add: I WON!!!!!!

Me Likey

2011-04-07T14:16:00.000-07:00

Got home from my 10 year old daughter's award ceremony at school this morning (straight A's!), and look what I found:

My order from Nandi Kids! Yay!

Here's what I ordered:
Curly Q's Curly Q Gel-Les'c (ie/ "Curly Q Jealousy")
Taliah Waajid's Lock It Up
Taliah Waajid's The Strengthener

This is my first order from Nandi Kids, one of two Canadian sites (that I know of) that supply products for African/biracial hair, and I couldn't be happier with them! Not only did they fill my order, ship the package and email me the same day I submitted my order, but they threw in a TON of free samples. The woman actually emailed me to say that she'd had a look at my blog, saw my son's picture, and thrown in a sample of Taliah Waajid's African Healing Oyl specifically for him. Isn't that so sweet??! She also sent free samples of Taliah Waajid's Kinky, Wavy, Natural Herbal Style & Shine, Curly Curl Cream and the Great Detangler. Now that's great customer service!!!

I've been wanting to try some yarn braids for my youngest daughter, whose hair is now just about 2" long. She has told me the story (many, many times) of when her head was shaved at the orphanage in Soddo. In fact, I think I have heard that story more than any other. It was clearly very traumatic for her. In her initial intake photos, we can see her long, braided hair, and she tells me that she cried and cried when all her hair fell to the floor. Every time we do hair, she asks if her hair is long enough to braid.

I want my daughter to appreciate her natural hair -- in any and all styles, at any length -- so I do have reservations about giving her extentions. But she wants braids so, so badly, and I think right now she's got enough to deal with, without my trying to make her embrace her short curls.

As of last week, I haven't had much success with yarn braids because her hair is so short that I can't manage to anchor the yarn properly. Today I'll give her hair a good co-wash, moisturize the daylights out of it and try the yarn braids again, this time with the Curly Q Gel-les'c to glue in the ends -- and I'll let you know how it turns out!

* * *

2 hours later...

Still a no-go on the yarn braids. The hair around her hairline is only about 1" long, and I just can't manage to get the extentions hooked in tightly. I tried both the Gel-les'c and the Lock It Up, but the hair is just too short. We're both getting tired of all these abortive braiding attempts, so I'm going to force myself to wait for at least two or three weeks before trying again. Back to the headbands, I guess! I'll keep you posted!

Surely I'm Too Young to be Dealing With This

2011-04-06T09:52:00.000-07:00

Last night my daughter called me in to the computer room to show me what she wants to buy for the summer. No word of a lie: it's an itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow polka-dot bikini.

But let me assure you... she won't be wearing it for the first time.

New Every Morning

2011-03-28T15:06:00.000-07:00

The Internet gives us all a chance to look perfect. If you don't know me in real life, sometimes this blog may lead you to believe that we spend our days dancing amongst the daisies, twirling and holding hands, only speaking gentle words to each other and generally living a life of peace and sweetness.

The reality is much different.

I'm human. Some days I wake up and stare at the ceiling, thinking "I want to be selfish today. I don't want to nurture / love / protect / care for / build up / help heal / etc. I want to look after myself today." Sometimes when I see their little faces for the first time that day, I want to burrow down under the covers and go back to sleep.

The recently adopted child has a minefield to traverse every day -- he walks along, never knowing when he's going to hear a little "pop" and suddenly be devastated by incapacitating grief, by anger, by fear, by the overwhelming loss he has experienced, by memories both wonderful and terrible. Everywhere he turns, he encounters concealed detonators that he longs to avoid, but simply cannot.

While I ache for my children, I will never truly understand how they feel. I haven't walked in their shoes. Rather, I'm the physician watching from the sidelines. I'm the exhausted, overworked field medic who's been on call for the last 1,152 hours. I'm the one who picks scraps of shrapnel from their wounds when they hit the ground again. I seize my first aid kit -- it's looking pretty battered and worn by now -- and I have a look inside. What will this wound require? How will I rescue my child this time?

And some days, I just want to stand there with my hands on my hips and say, "For crying out loud, why don't you just walk around the mines? Why don't you just quit stomping on those detonators? We've already dressed this particular wound a thousand times already. Do it yourself this time. I'm tired, I need a break, and I'm running out of bandages -- go find your own."

I did my research before committing to adoption. I knew this was coming. I was prepared for it. But there's no amount of preparation that will adequately equip a person for this task. There's only on-the-job training provided for this emergency-response position.

But this is what I've learned: the compassion of the Lord never, ever fails. His mercies are new every morning. His faithfulness is so great. When I stand back and look at where we started, and where we are now -- a mere seven weeks later -- I am amazed. How did I have the strength to deal with these terrible, terrible days? How in the world did I manage to put one foot in front of the other?

And I'll be honest here: What is still getting me out of bed every morning?

I'll tell you plainly: My God is very great. No matter how I feel -- no matter the circumstances -- no matter how many times I think "I can't do this" -- He gives help to the helpless, hope to the hopeless. (And yes, I ~~have been~~ am both.) What God has done is well done. He does not make mistakes. He is sovereign and omnipotent, and His strength is sufficient for me. When I struggle, God gives me His love for my children. He takes my ashes and turns them into beauty, and I know that He will give my children the oil of joy in exchange for their mourning. He truly has been a shelter for us, a strong tower to which we can run and be safe.

My friends -- those of you in the adoption world who are suffering through your stage of this hard journey -- don't lose heart. Don't lose hope. God's faithfulness is everlasting and unchanging, and He is strong enough to bear your burdens.

Hear my cry, O God;

Attend to my prayer.

From the end of the earth I will cry to You,

When my heart is overwhelmed;

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

For You have been a shelter for me,

A strong tower from the enemy.

I will abide in Your tabernacle forever;

I will trust in the shelter of Your wings. Selah.

Hair Today: In The Beginning

2011-03-22T16:33:00.000-07:00

For a white, white girl like me, one of the most intimidating facets of transracial adoption is Dealing With The Hair. I will tell you honestly that I struggle with styling my Caucasian daughters' hair, so the very thought of styling African hair is... daunting, to say the least. Still, even I know that a black woman or girl's hair must be well cared for and properly styled, so I've bitten the proverbial bullet.

I didn't plan to blog about hair at all -- not until I was a totally awesome, rad, marvelous hair goddess. But it has occurred to me that it might be encouraging for other moms to see me blunder along, learning as I go! So here's where we're at right now.

Home from the barbershop!

For The Boy:

We got his hair cut at a barbershop in Addis Ababa, and we've cut it once since bringing him home -- that's one cut every 4 weeks. Based on the growth we're seeing now, I think that will be a reasonable schedule for his haircuts. We're shampooing once a week, with conditioner-only washes ("co-wash") in between. I oil it every morning, ensuring that his scalp gets lots of massaging -- I'm in the middle of testing out all kinds of oils, and so far I think our favourite is jojoba. We're using the same oil on his skin and hair: a full oil-down after each bath/shower, and on his face/hands/legs daily.

For The Girl:

The Fake Twists

Our girl's hair was about 3/4" long when we were in Addis, and I. Cannot. Believe how fast it's growing! It's been six weeks, and her hair is already close to 2" long. If you're interested, so far I think her hair is mostly 4a, but closer to 3b on her crown and the nape of her neck. (Here are a couple sites that explain the hair typing system.)

So far, we've mostly just left her hair alone -- I'll often put in a couple twists along the front of her head, simply because she loves to see her hair looking "konjo." ("pretty") These fake twists don't last long at all, maybe half a day -- her hair is still too short (and my fingers too stubby) to do proper twists, so these are more like rolls. They're not very successful, but it makes her happy for the day, anyway. These twists take about 30 minutes, so it's worth it to have her hair looking decent, even just for the morning.

She's great at sitting still for hair time.

Today we put in a bunch of little mini-puffs. It's definitely a preschool/toddler style, and I do think it's too babyish for her. But her short hair leaves me very few options! She was absolutely thrilled with the results, and danced around for a long time, singing about her konjo hair.

The hardest part of hair styling, for me, is making all those parts. It's harder than it looks, and I really struggle to get the parts all even and straight, and it takes one thousand years.... phew. I guess this is an acquired skill; hopefully I'll get faster as I get used to working with her hair.

The Daily Routine

Oiled, detangled and halfway through a style.

First, I spray their hair with a bit of conditioner/water mixture -- I took a small spray bottle and filled it about 1/8 full of conditioner, then filled the rest with distilled water. (I just used the same conditioner that we use for our co-washes throughout the week.)
Next, we oil the hair, making sure to massage the oil right into the scalp.
Next, I just gently brush it out with the Tangle Teaser. Her hair isn't really long enough to tangle, so this is super-quick.
If we're just leaving her hair free, next I work in a glob of Curly Q Custard. This Custard smells super yummy (thanks to Joanne for doing the test drive!) and it is great to define her curls. I just finger-arrange her hair, and it looks great.
If I'm doing an actual style, I use my own adapted, knock-off version of Nicky's Magical Hair Elixir. It is, truly, magical.

The Weekly Routine

I shampoo their hair every week. However, I've started to notice that their hair is getting quite dry, so I think we might switch to washing every 1.5 weeks, or maybe even every 2 weeks. With every other bath/shower during the week, we just do a co-wash.

My son is so proud of his sister when her hair is done! It's so funny!

The Tools of the Trade

I can't say enough about the Tangle Teaser. I love it for this length of hair. I'll keep you posted about what we think when her hair is longer!
This pin-tail comb is indispensable. Next time I order from Shuruba, I'll order another of these in case my first one breaks -- I can't imagine doing all these parts without this comb! A must-have.
This Coil Comb is great. I don't really have the hang of using this thing, but my oldest daughter is a pro. She just sits down with her sister, messes around with this comb, and her little sister walks away looking like a million bucks. I also used this comb today as I was putting in the mini-puffs -- it's the perfect size to brush out those little sections of hair without catching on the other hair.
Styling clips like these ones -- I don't really like these, as they're hard to take out of her hair without snagging and pulling. I'll be on the lookout for some small claw-style clips to try in place of these.

Well, there you have it. I'm sure this will eventually become my "Wow, I didn't have a clue back then" post! haha!

Stop dancing for a minute so I can take a photo!

Got Injera? (Making the Injera)

2011-03-17T08:19:00.000-07:00

After all that work of making the starter, let's get busy making injera!

Edited to add: I took Shan's advice and tried sprinkling salt on the pan between cooking the injeras. Holy cannoli! It makes a difference! I've changed the instructions accordingly.

Notes:
- I'm not an expert at this by ANY stretch of the imagination. This is simply what works for our family.
- if a layer of blackish liquid has formed on the surface of your starter, just pour the liquid off and proceed as normal.
- the teff that I am able to buy at our health food store is very dark, so my injera is very dark. It would be easy to experiment with teff and other flours to find the combination you like.
- no, in Ethiopia you won't find baking powder in injera. I haven't managed to avoid using it in mine; if you figure out a way around this here in North America, let me know!
- for goodness' sake, don't forget to leave some starter behind -- otherwise, you'll have to begin all over again and make a new starter. Ugh.
- I use a nonstick 14" frying pan with a lid. Ideally, you could find an actual mitad, or of these great Lefse pans. I have neither, but have had decent success with my frying pan. I do wish that I had a proper domed lid, since I find that it's tricky to stop the flat lid from dripping condensation on the injera, but we're managing. (I dry the lid between cooking each injera.)
- I've tried to make injera in my beloved cast iron frying pan, but it always starts sticking after a the first few injeras are made. Harrumph.

In The Morning:
2 cups starter
2 cups teff (sometimes I substitute 1 cup whole wheat flour and 1 cup rye flour)
In a large mixing bowl, mix starter and teff. Knead with your hands. It will start out crumbly, but will soon form a ball. Knead for about 5 to 7 minutes.

After kneading, begin to add lukewarm water, 1/4 cup at a time, until your mixture is very thin. The consistency should be that of very thin crepe or Yorkshire pudding batter. Cover the mixture and let it sit on the counter.

In The Afternoon:
Add the following to your starter mixture:
3 cups all purpose flour
4 1/2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt

Add warm water until the mixture is thin and soupy -- again, you want the same consistency as thin crepe batter. In stages, run the mixture through your blender, blending thoroughly until all lumps are removed. Cover the mixture and let it sit on the counter again.

Ready to Cook!
When you take the lid off the injera batter, you'll probably see lots of bubbles. Yeah!

Heat your frying pan over medium-high heat. Do not use oil or butter, but sprinkle a little salt on the pan before pouring the batter. Pour about 1/2 cup of batter into the hot pan, pouring in circular lines to cover the surface. Immediately cover the pan with a lid.

When you see steam start to escape the lid, your injera is probably ready to come out. If it is obviously still wet in the middle, let it cook a little longer. But if you cook it too long, the steam trapped inside will make the injera very soggy and sticky. This takes a bit of practice!

Note: Injera is cooked on one side only.

Once the injera is cooked (it will start to look dry on top, and start pulling away from the sides of the pan) remove with a large spatula. I don't have one of those rad flat basket things, so I'm stuck with a very North American spatula. Huh.

I like to stack my injera on a plate covered with a clean dishtowel. I find that if I let the first injera dry in the air (uncovered) while I'm cooking the next one, they don't stick together. However, it would be easy enough to layer clean dishtowels, waxed paper or parchment paper between your injera if you're having trouble with sticking.

Ready to Eat!
Traditionally, there is a huge communal platter of food in the center of the group. There is a gigantic piece of injera on the bottom of the platter, and various wats are scooped directly onto it, with rolled-up injeras placed at intervals around the edges. Diners tear off small pieces of injera and use it to scoop up the various wats.

I'm not equipped with the tools to manage this: I haven't got the mitad for making the huge injera, nor the big platter/basket to serve a big communal plate. Instead, we simply place one injera on a each person's dinner plate, scoop wats all over it, and either give an extra rolled-up injera on each plate, or else put a big platter of them in the middle of the table. It works for us!

Got Injera? (Making the Starter)

2011-03-16T09:08:00.000-07:00

I made my first batch of injera nearly three years ago -- an experience that started with great excitement, and ended with me scraping the entire batch into the bin. I've tried so many recipes since then, experimenting, adapting and analyzing like some sort of mad scientist, and have settled on the following one as the closest that I can get to the real thing. It's a basic, classic sourdough starter, so it's not like I've come up with something brilliant here. In any case, this injera gets five golden stars from my Ethiopian kids, so I'm sticking with it. Here it is, in all its spongy glory:

Notes:
- I made my starter with wheat flour, and once it was well established, began using teff in place of the wheat flour.
- I've kept this starter going for about six months now, and it's reached the point where I can abuse it terribly, yet it remains absolutely lovely and reliable and shows no signs of slowing down.
- If, during this process, your starter begins to get little spots of mold on the surface, just remove them with a spoon.
- My starter looked a little lank and dead on the ninth day, so I added 1 Tbsp of flour and a pinch of sugar to help it along.
- You'll need a good container with a lid -- I use one of those 7 cup Anchor glass storage containers with a plastic lid. Now that my starter is well established, I stick the lid on tightly -- but during the beginning stages, I left the lid ajar to let air into the container.

Day 1
1/4 cup white flour
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup warm water
1/2 yellow potato, scrubbed and cut into two or three pieces

Thoroughly mix flours and water together. Stir in the potato, cover loosely and let stand on the back of your counter. Now, leave it alone!

If you're one of those people who remembers to water their plants, cleans out the fridge regularly and never misses a birthday, you're golden. If you're like me, you might want to write the date on the lid so you can keep track of when to feed your starter. I actually marked my calendar with the dates that I had to deal with the starter -- it worked.

Day 2
Do nothing.

Day 3
Remove the potato pieces and discard. Add nothing.

Day 4
Add:
2 Tbsp warm water
2 Tbsp flour (I used whole wheat for each feeding)
You may see some bubbles starting to form in the starter, and it should have a nice yeasty sort of smell to it.

Days 5 to 9
Leave it alone. Check your starter every now and then, removing any mold you find.

Days 10 through 15
This is when you really start ramping up the feedings. I fed my starter twice per day, in the morning and at night. For each feeding, add:
1 Tbsp warm water
1 Tbsp flour
Stir in well, cover and let it sit until the next feeding.

Day 16 and thereafter
At this point, your starter should be strong and ready to use. I began to convert my starter to a teff starter around this time -- simply begin using teff in place of the wheat flour.

If you're not going to be using your starter regularly, you can either keep feeding it every few days (with 1 or 2 Tbsp each warm water and teff) or store it in the fridge. For a while, when we weren't feeling like eating injera, I kept mine in the fridge, sealed tightly. I fed it every two weeks, and it was perfectly fine.

This sounds like an awful lot of work, but if you've ever used sourdough before (and who hasn't had one of those Amish friendship breads passed on to them?) you'll know that it's not complicated at all. In fact, it's just a matter of marking the feeding times on your calendar.

Tomorrow: using your starter to make injera!

New Adoption Magazine

2011-03-14T06:50:00.000-07:00

Stop the press! There's a new online magazine that's just been launched by the lovely and incomparable Sharla.

In her words, "There is a lack of information about adoption in general for those who are interested in adoption and not sure where to start and then for those who are in the process or whose children are home already, there is limited access to important information about things like Post Adoption Depression (yes, there is such a thing and the numbers are high), Attachment and Trauma, Identity, adoptive breastfeeding, hair and skin care, common Special Needs such as FASD, RAD, and SPD, and other issues. This causes a lot of stress for fostering or adoptive families and there is no need for this type of stress in a world where the internet is so accessible for people. Honest adoption information is particularly lacking for Canadians."

Sharla's blog The Blessing has been a great source of encouragement and information for me, and for so many of us in the adoption world. Click over to the new Adoption Magazine and check it out! Follow it, link to it on Facebook, tweet it, do what you can to help it get started!

A Month In: A Few More Things I've Learned

2011-03-12T08:34:00.000-08:00

Language: If you're thinking about getting Simple Amharic for Adoptive Families, it's worth it, worth it, worth it. Seriously, you will not regret this purchase. I use it in combination with Lonely Planet's Ethiopian Amharic phrasebook, and it's worth its weight in gold.

It's also quite funny that my kids love to listen to the Simple Amharic CD. (In fact that's what they're doing this very minute, which is why I have time to blog.) The first time they listened to it, they thought it was somebody actually speaking to them. So every time the woman says, "Boy," (since Amharic is gender-specific) my son would say, "Yes?" Although now they understand that it's just a recording, they still answer all the questions. Example:
CD: "Do you want a snack?"
Children: "No, thank you."

And they think it's hysterical to listen to an adult Ethiopian man saying things like "Kaka" (poo) and "Shint" (pee). Seriously, it's just a laugh a minute. The best $30 I've spent in a long time.

The miraculous leftover omelette! Amazing!

Vitamins: I'm giving both kids Shaklee supplements, and they look forward to them every day! What a difference from our older girls. They take multi-vitamins, vitamin C, Calcium and a Bifidus supplement. I've read a lot about nutritional supplements for children who have experienced malnourishment, and we are having great success with the Mighty Smarts, which have all the omega fatty acids that their brains need. It doesn't hurt that they taste great -- the kids think they are getting candy every day. (Mwah ha ha.)
Edited to add: I have gotten SO many emails asking about Shaklee vitamins -- I had no idea anybody would be interested! They have been the highest quality vitamins on the market for over 50 years -- they're not cheap, but they're so incredibly effective that I wouldn't even think about switching brands. Here's where I get them.

Food: This is an entire post of its own, but I will tell you about a highlight of this past week: there was some omelette left in the pan after our second breakfast, and both children declined it. YEAH!!!!

Thank you, Liesl! :)

Spiritual Matters: Church is The. Highlight. of our week. As we drive out of the parking lot after church on Sundays, they're already asking how many days until we go back. It's too bad we don't go to some kind of three-Sunday-services, Tuesday-kids-group and Thursday-home-group kind of church, because they'd love that. They are going to their appropriate Sunday School classes, each accompanied by one of their older sisters. It's a huge hit, despite the language barrier.

Our church is pretty noisy and free, so I expected that the children would love the loud n' proud music. But they don't really seem to notice anything at all -- until the drummer starts banging on a djembe, then they suddenly snap into attention and watch his every move.

I've discovered that their favourite song BY FAR is Michael W. Smith's Let it Rain. They already knew it (from where, I haven't a clue) and when they heard it come on randomly in the van, they just screamed with excitement! We now listen to it on Repeat One whenever we're in the van. And now, whenever I read Psalm 97 I automatically read it with an Australian accent. (Especially the "fire goes before Him and consumes His foes on every side" bit.) Too bad it's kind of an old song, since it would be so awesome for them to sing it in church.

A Month In: A Few Things I've Learned

2011-03-11T15:51:00.000-08:00

I'm so glad I spent time making and freezing various wats!

Manners: The children are shocked and offended when I whistle inside the house. Weird, right? They get very distressed looks on their faces and tell me politely but firmly that if I want to whistle, I must do it outside. Too funny. I'm trying to comply, since it's an easy way to make them comfortable, but it's a terribly hard habit to break. I've been whistling in the house since I was a kid. I'm working on it.

As far as their manners are concerned, I'm looking the other way until further notice. These children are dealing with a new family, new language, new home, new culture, new family, new smells and new foods. I think I can handle it if they talk with their mouths full and let out huge belches at the table. The world hasn't stopped turning so far... though my older daughters are repelled and disgusted! Suck it up, princesses. This, too, shall pass.

Discipline: The most effective management of small infractions is to stand the children in the corner. I suppose this is what was done in the Transition House, because they respond to it amazingly! They literally just stand there, face in the corner, and don't come out until I say they can. I honestly can't believe it; it seems so outdated and ridiculous, but hey -- any old port in a storm, right? I do have to step out of sight though, because seeing them standing there meekly just makes me laugh and laugh. I don't know why. It's just so funny to me.

I am really happy that we have this option, since so many disciplinary methods are counter-productive when you're trying to work on attachment -- ie/ time outs, etc. Since we have a very convenient corner right in the kitchen/living area of our house, this is a great way to make my point but still not banish the child from my presence when they've misbehaved.

Male Chauvinism: Oh, my. Those of you who are adopting older boys... look out. I was warned about this by another adoptive parent, who was kind enough to share a bit of her wisdom with me before we went to pick up the children. Here are some choice phrases I've had barked out at me over the last few weeks:
- "Mom! Daddy need tea. You bring."
- "Mom! You no sit down. (I am) hungry."
- "Mom! Mom say no. I yes. So, yes."
- "Mom! (My) shirt dirty. You wash."
Since I was prepared for this (oh, thank you so much, you-know-who-you-are) I have refrained from unleashing the fury of hell on my son, but sometimes I can nearly hear my teeth splintering from the pressure. If this child thinks I exist to wipe his arse, he's got another think coming.

Sorry it's fuzzy - I snuck up on them while they were listening to Watoto

Music: If you are waiting for older children, it's absolutely imperative that you get some African music, especially if it's sung by children à la African Children's Choir or Watoto Children's Choir. My kids will literally sit on chairs facing the speakers, empty handed, and listen to an entire album of music, occasionally getting up to dance for a while. Also, they like it loud. And I mean loud.

Yet Another Point Form Post

2011-03-07T20:23:00.000-08:00

So, yeah. Seriously, I just don't have time to spend on nice-ifying a blog post. I hate to totally ignore it, though.... how about some point form??? In no particular order, then:

Our youngest two children are going through an awful lot of medical testing, the poor things. The blood testing went okay; my son grimaced and sucked air through his teeth, but stoically endured the drawing of FIVE HUGE VIALS OF BLOOD without a tear. My daughter started crying long before the syringe was even brought out, and jerked so strongly that blood sprayed onto my face. That was a bright moment in our bonding experience. The funny thing was that they milked it for as long as they could. The reward for a successful blood-letting was a piece of gum. ("Mastica" was one of the first Amharic words we learned from the children.) Well, my poor guy was apparently so, so weakened by his traumatic experience that he was unable to unwrap the gum himself. Both children walked around for the next few hours with one arm hanging limply by their sides, clearly in far too much pain to hang up their own jackets, or carry their plates from the table to the kitchen. Too funny.
My 10 year old daughter is practicing "the Cremation of Sam McGee" to recite at a Festival for Performing Arts this spring. She's a very dramatic person in general, and definitely gifted on stage -- she's a terrific actress. I love it when she says, "I dug a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee." I can't wait for her big performance night!
It's finally gotten a little warmer around here. Seriously, we have so much snow that we'll still have a lawnful by the end of April. I'd forgotten what a pain in the butt it is to help young children in and out of snow suits a billion times a day. I can't wait for summer!
Both younger children have ended up needing dental surgery. There are so many cavities that the dentist is going to extract his, and fill hers, all in one fell swoop at the hospital. There's a waiting period before we can apply to BC Medical, though, and it would cost far too much to pay out of pocket for the anesthetist, hospital beds, etc. This means that we're waiting until May. Yikes, the poor kids. They don't seem to notice their decayed teeth -- I guess they're just used to living in pain. I feel so bad for them.
My son is longing, yearning, dying to go to school. He knows that he's got to wait until his English improves, and until he knows how to write his letters and numbers. He's seven years old on paper (turning eight in August), so in September, if he enters school according to his age level, he should be going into grade three. He's a long way behind that, so we're trying to figure out how best to meet his social AND academic needs. Oh, the joys of older child adoption!
You should see the absolutely gorgeous ceramic figure that my uncles Joe and Dave sent to me. It's about three feet tall, all lovely African animals. I seriously love it. It looks like it was made specifically for my house. It got sadly damaged during shipping, so I'm slowly working my magic with Krazy Glue. Hopefully it will be restored to its original splendour soon, and I'll post a pic.
I am finding it difficult to discern the fine line between promoting attachment and enabling bad behaviour. Both of my youngest children have learned some, um, challenging behaviours during their stay at the orphanages and the transition house. It's really tough to keep the balance of providing guidelines and encouraging healthy attachment. I'm okay with behavioural regression, since I think it's a really important step in the adjustment and bonding process. I don't mind if the kids' behaviour is several years behind their chronological age. I want the kids to feel free to grieve when they need to. But I do want to draw the line when it needs to be drawn, and put an end to some of these unacceptable behaviours. How to do this is a bit of a challenge for me.
I'm not looking forward to Daylight Savings time this Sunday. Bleh.

Sadly, I'm out of time! Cheerio, and I'll be back soon!

More Simple Amharic

2011-03-02T11:42:00.000-08:00

...for Adoptive Families of Older Children.

I've never needed the translation for "Do you need me to change your diaper?" but the following ones would be very useful indeed:

"Dude, seriously, you need to put the toilet seat up before you go."
"Please spit the toothpaste into the sink, not onto the floor."
"You can just speak normally on the phone. They can hear you; there's no need to shout."
"Oh, dear. Looks like it's broken."
"Hmm, they're still dirty. Did you forget to use soap?"

And finally, why the lovely Amy Kenda11 omitted this one is more than I can say:

"Let me tell you about a little thing we call stool sampling..."

Life is pretty good!

Who needs toys when we've got calculators?

He loves his Nanny

Quick Update

2011-02-24T14:39:00.000-08:00

Whew! I've been trying to post for ages, but have been prevented by (a) being unbelievably busy and (b) a raging, violent, Godzilla-like flu/tonsillitis/ear infection. It's been a doozy. I felt like my head was stuffed with cotton wool. In fact, as my mother said, if I'd blogged while in that state my words could very well have been quoted on my sister's blog.

Mr Gwen is this guy's hero.

I have appreciated each and every comment and private email that you have sent in support and encouragement. Your words meant a lot to me, and I am so grateful for each of you. Thank you.

How are things going, you ask?

Tantrums and rages have slowed down -- nearly stopped, in fact. (For now.) This fact has greatly contributed to my (gradually) returning sanity.

At the KVI Guest House, Addis Ababa

Pouty behaviour, in one specific individual who had been badly spoiled in the orphanage/transition house, is slowing down very slowly. This child thought that by frowning, poking out a bottom lip and keeping up a steady moan of dissatisfaction, everything this child wanted would be given -- from chocolate to iPhones to Mommy's makeup. This child had another think coming. I'm not always popular around here but I think we've reached a certain level of understanding, and the whole family is happier for it!

Different foods are beginning to be accepted. I am shocked and dismayed at the food that the children were given in the transition house! Breakfast: white bread and tea with sugar -- and I mean, a demitasse cup of black tea with about 3-4 tsp sugar. And we're wondering why their teeth are so bad. Lunch: pasta and sauce, white rice and sauce or white bread and sauce. Dinner: white bread with peanut butter/nutella/sugar. All snacks: white bread and sugary tea. Yikes.

They love to do their chores

I had filled the freezer with loads of wats, all frozen in single portion sizes. Well, the kids are devouring them, smacking and gobbling their way through it all. I'm making more injera today, and we've started to ration the Ethiopian food to 3x/week, so that they are compelled to try other things. I'm so, so glad that they like my Ethiopian cooking though!

The biggest hit at the table? Omelettes, omelettes and more omelettes. They are easily eating 6 eggs per day, and that's with rationing in place. Whew! Good thing we've got a friend who keeps chickens.

Happy girl

We took our son to the dentist yesterday for an exam. (Our daughter will have her app't next week.) His teeth were so bad (thanks to all that sugar) that you could smell the decay. One tooth is literally rotten away; there is only a little brown stub left. Man, that must hurt. Well, praises to the Lord On High are in order, because the dentist says that we can simply extract the rotten baby teeth, rather than doing root canals and capping them -- the adult teeth are ready and waiting to come in, and the adult teeth look like they're fine. Hallelujah! The dentist also mentioned that he thinks our son is at least eight, from just a quick look around at his teeth. (On paper, our son shouldn't be eight until August.) If we're only six months off, that would be remarkable! We'll try to get a more specific estimate with x-rays, and possibly a bone scan if we really start questioning his stated age.

And finally, (and best of all) I find myself loving them a little more every day.

My older daughters are very popular!

And that's all the news I've got just now! Computer time is severely limited these days, of course. Some marvelous folks manage to blog their way right through their adoption, but clearly... I'm not one of them!

Nearing the end of the long journey to Canada

The Best Policy

2011-02-20T08:00:00.000-08:00

We're home. The process is complete, the long wait is over, and now we're down to the business of learning to be a family.

Over the last three years, I've looked forward to writing this post. I imagined that the phrases "Our family is finally complete!" and "I love them so much already!" would be used. I'd put in some pictures of happy, smiling children with happy, smiling parents, and our unmixed joy and pleasure would shine right through your computer screens.

But it hasn't quite happened that way.

If I'd written this post twelve days ago, I would have said something like this:
I wish I could rewind back to January 2008 and take it all back.
I just can't stop crying.
We have destroyed our happy family.

If I'd written this post nine days ago, I would have said something like this:
I want to get on this plane by myself and never look back.
I wish I could undo this and make it like it never happened.
I will never love them like I love my older children.

If I'd written this post three days ago, I would have said something like this:
This last hour was actually fun.
Poor little things. I can't imagine the grief and fear they're feeling.
I'm starting to like them.

But I'm writing this today, so I'll say something like this:
I will love these children.
There's a light at the end of this tunnel.
Everything's going to be okay. It may be a while, but I think it's going to be okay.

Now We Are Six

2011-02-17T18:05:00.000-08:00

Sorry, Readers. I really did try to post from Addis -- I had set up email posting and everything, but... well, I forgot the email address I created, and sent a couple of posts out into the ether. Whoops.

I'm busy, busy, frightfully busy with these two little ones! I will honestly try to post soon though, and give you an idea of what's going on! Ciao!

Postcard from the Edge

2011-02-04T07:17:00.000-08:00

I've been asked a few times to write something out for our church friends, to prepare them for what lies ahead! It might be helpful for another adoptive family out there, so I'll paste it in here, edited a little for privacy.

And MIGHT I JUST MENTION that we are leaving tomorrow????

Here's the letter:
Hello church family!

We want to give you a heads-up about the next little while:

Although we're hoping for a smooth transition for our family, we are going to step back from a lot of our regular church activities for a while. Internationally adopted children often have difficult transitional periods as they adjust to living in a family, learning a new culture, new language, being surrounded by people of a different race, and learning to accept new smells, tastes and sounds.

Although our son is 7 and our daughter is 4, we can expect them to act like much younger children -- possibly even like young toddlers. Behavioural regression is normal in institutionalized children, and is temporary. Their brains need some “re-wiring” after the trauma of family disruption and institutional care.

Our basic goal for the first little while is simply to teach the children that we are their parents. This is called attachment. The children need to learn that we are a family, and that their needs will be met by us, every time. Parents teach this to their biological children easily, by repeatedly responding to their child’s cries. Adoptive parents need to teach this more intentionally. Every child’s fear is that their parents will leave them: this is why a baby cries when he cannot see his mother. For the adopted child, this fear has become a reality: they have lost their parents. They need to be taught that we will not leave them, not ever. This lesson may be a long and difficult one.

It's going to seem, at first, that we are completely spoiling these kids. They may (or may not) act out in ways that seem extreme. We'll be meeting their every need, and responding to them immediately with seemingly inappropriate levels of concern and comfort. Although it will seem that we are being terrible, permissive and manipulated parents, please be patient! We don't know what kinds of trauma the children have suffered, and it will be a while before we can start expecting good behaviour from them. As with our Heavenly Father, loving attachment comes first, discipline second. Severe malnutrition can also affect behaviour, sometimes permanently. We're asking for your patience as we work through this.

What can you do to help?

Just a few simple things will help us tremendously!

1.Give the kids a little space. We're all excited to welcome them into our church family, but they have no idea that we’ve been waiting for them so long. Big enveloping hugs will scare them, not comfort them. Loud sobs will make them wonder what is wrong with these Canadians! If you simply cannot resist the urge to reach out to them, shaking hands is culturally acceptable and will not frighten them. In Ethiopia, it’s a sign of respect to grip your right elbow with your left hand as you shake someone’s hand.

2. Please, try not to stare. The children will notice that they don’t look like the rest of us. Stares will make them feel like animals in the zoo. As a transracial family, we will be stared at whenever we’re out in public. Let’s make them feel that church is a place where it's comfortable and secure, and where they fit in.

3. It’s unacceptable to touch black children’s hair without first asking their permission.

4. Give us a week or two before visiting. After that, we’d love to have you drop in for a quick chat… especially if you bring cookies.

We can hardly wait to introduce our children to you! You have all been a tremendous support to us over the last three years. Every prayer, word of encouragement and hug has meant so much to us. May God bless you as richly as you have blessed us!

BletherGram

2011-02-03T15:28:00.000-08:00

WE LEAVE SATURDAY MORNING STOP THINGS ARE EXCITING, SCARY AND FRANTIC WITH PACKING AND PLANNING STOP WILL TRY TO BLOG ON THE FLY DEPENDING ON INTERNET ACCESS STOP MOM ARRIVES TONIGHT AND WE ARE ALL VERY EXCITED STOP MORE LATER STOP LOVE GWEN

VISAS VISAS VISAS!!!!!!

2011-02-01T09:21:00.000-08:00

YES!!! The children's visas are IN!!!!!

...AND it's this little sweetie's 4th birthday today:

What a great day!!!!!!!!!!!

You never get a second chance...

2011-01-26T22:06:00.000-08:00

....to make a first impression.

I've recently been invited to a new Yahoo group, one for adoptive parents who have passed court. This group is full of educated, professional, wise parents who share their vast knowledge about attachment, bonding, trauma and grief in adopted children. They are the coup de grace, the creme de la creme, the echelon, the Jedi knights of adoptive parenting. These people are the sort who can hold down a job, go home at 5:30 to cook a gourmet meal, take their children to playgroups on weekends, research attachment therapy and split the atom on their lunch breaks.

I mostly lurked during my first week or so on the group, not wanting to draw attention to the adorable yet ignorant little Ewok who has just toddled onto the scene. What do I know about parenting internationally adopted children? I haven't even started yet.

And then came yesterday. Someone I admire very much posted a question, wondering where a great vacation destination would be for her family, including her young children.

"Oh! This is my big moment to make a great first impression," I thought. "I know the perfect place!"

I clicked on "reply," and chirped, at great length, about a wonderful resort I'd been to in Jamaica, where the sand was white, the water was blue, the pina coladas were icy, and who wouldn't want to go there? "I can't recommend it highly enough," I gushed. "Perfect for the whole family."

But...

When I signed onto the message boards today and read someone's reply to my post, the blood drained out of my face.

It seems that FDR Pebbles, the resort I praised up and down, has become a nudist resort.

Yes, I have just told the entire Canadian community of parents of Ethiopian-born children to take their children to a nudist colony for their spring break.

I'd make this post a little longer, but I want to go call the pastor's wife. I have a movie to recommend for the Sunday School children to watch: Saw 3D: the Final Chapter. I hear it's fantastic.

It's Official: I Have Awesome Friends

2011-01-26T07:51:00.000-08:00

Yup. They threw me a "baby" shower! Thanks, girls!

Maybe Next Monday!

2011-01-25T14:02:00.000-08:00

No visas yesterday. Boo hoo. I got so angry and frustrated yesterday morning, upon realizing that we hadn't received our visas, that I actually wanted to bite something. Instead, I climbed onto my friend's treadmill and ran, ran, ran, like it was going out of style. Felt good.

Well, never mind. Maybe next Monday! In the meantime, I'm setting up bedrooms, stocking the freezer, and finishing up as much of the children's Life Books as I can. Life is good!

Monday, Monday

2011-01-18T14:00:00.000-08:00

No visa news to report yet, folks.

Here's the visa process timeline, as I understand it:

Some lovely person at the Canadian High Commission (based in Nairobi) will take one look at our visa application, glance at our children's cute little passports, and have their hearts smitten. They will call their co-workers over to their desk so that everyone can oooh and aaah over the photos of our sweet little children. They will pick up The Blessed Sticker* of Significance, and lovingly stick them into the children's Ethiopian passports. These visas will enable to children to enter Canada as bona fide citizens, although the kids will still hold their Ethiopian passports. ("But why?" you ask. It's simple. This way is faster than waiting for Canadian passports.)
Our paperwork (including the children's passports) will be packed into a diplomatic pouch. I believe that Wednesdays are Pouch Packing Days in Nairobi.
The diplomatic pouch will be sent from Nairobi to Addis Ababa, arriving in Addis on a Friday.
On Monday morning in Addis, someone in the Canadian embassy will open up the pouch. When they see our paperwork in there, with lovely fresh stamps in the passports, they will phone the Kids Link office in Addis. (Imagine is still called "Kids Link" in Ethiopia.)
The Kids Link staff will email the Imagine staff in Canada.
The Imagine staff (probably our lovely Jo Ann) will call us! US!!! This will happen ANY MONDAY from now on.
As soon as we get The Call of Greatness, we will start booking flights and hotels, packing, lining up my Mother's flights to come stay with our two older daughters (grrr... need pseudonyms!) and hopefully be ready to leave within a week.

* thank you for the clarification, Turgeon Expansion!

You can see why we're all pretty worked up around here. Just think! We could get the call on any Monday at all! It's very exciting.

It would have been neat to have gotten the call yesterday, since it was Martin Luther King, Jr. day. Not that we're Americans, obviously, but it still would have been kind of cool.

Has anybody noticed that my blog is way more sloppily written than it used to be? This all fits in with my 2011 resolutions, which are summed up in two words: Good Enough. I'm letting go of my perfectionist instincts, and BOY! does it feel good. ¡Olé!

Officially in the Visa Wait!

2011-01-07T09:42:00.000-08:00

Readers, the time has come for some point form, with photos interspersed to up the cuteness factor.

Well, the lovely DHL website tells me that the children's passports have reached Nairobi. AWESOME. It's hard to believe that we have reached the FINAL steps of this long, heart wrenching, crazy process. This is it, folks! We wait for one phone call, and then we are on our way. I can't wait to be through all the paperwork -- truthfully, adoption paperwork has been on my mind for three years now, and I barely know what life will be like without it. (Of course we'll still have Social Worker visits for a while, but that's no big deal.)

January's update photo

I've almost gotten the kids' suitcases packed for when we receive The Great Visa Call. We have to bring everything that the kids will need. They will come out of the Transition House wearing a set of clothing, and that's all they will have! So that means that we need to bring everything from toothbrushes to coats to toys for them, and we need to get everything ready at home too: booster seats, toys, beds, boots, new pillows! It's like preparing for a new baby, but... more complicated. When a baby is born, all he really needs is diapers, some sleepers, receiving blankets and his Mom. Parents can start accumulating everything else gradually. But when you adopt older children, they need it all right away. Fun, but a little overwhelming too!

January's update photo

We aren't in a position to make a big deal out of decorating their bedrooms -- our agency's bankruptcy and the two-trip rule took care of that for us -- but it sure is fun to be gathering clothing and toys for them. We had planned to sell our house this past fall, but then we got our referral in August (still excited about that!) and knew that it would have been totally overwhelming to prep a house for sale, travel to Ethiopia for court and still maintain a happy family! So we are determined to fit into our slightly-too-small house for another few years. Not a big deal... families all over the world happily live in much smaller houses than ours. We are abundantly blessed!

Although I'm sad to see that our daughter's head is freshly shaved due to the lovely presence of the dread scalp fungus (totally common in adopted children), a part of me is relieved that I can get into The Hair Thing gradually, as her hair grows in. The thought of tackling a whole head of hair is pretty daunting. I'm NOT the kind of girl who ever wanted to be a hairdresser, so cornrows, twists, braids and even basic detangling will be a major challenge to me. Thankfully I've got some time before that will all start, and I've certainly done my homework!

And finally, I'm going to have to come up with some pseudonyms for my children. I cannot continue to describe them so ambiguously. I had planned to use the Amharic words for "brother" and "sister," but I have four children, not two -- they all need online pseudonyms. I'll pick some names soon and start using them -- I don't feel good about using my kids' real names online.

Off I go! I owe the butcher for the meat and God for my soul, so I'd better get cracking. I'm so excited!!!

One Week In

2011-01-06T09:45:00.000-08:00

To begin with: my rezzies. Here they are for 2011:

I will adopt this motto: "There will be plenty of time for this later." I will apply this motto to all housework.
I will delegate more. I need to stop doing so much around the house, and start making my children work harder. I know this sounds cruel and lazy, but honestly, my children are much too old for the way I treat them. I still bustle around, cleaning and cooking, while my children lay on the couch reading books. Time for the hammer to come down, folks. And I will NOT go around and re-do their chores secretly because I want it done my way. I'll have years to do it my way when they're grown and gone. Time to focus on giving them the tools they'll need down the road.
I will enjoy myself every day. All work and no play makes Gwen a really dull, negative, unhappy girl. I resolve to laugh a whole lot more, to let go of things that plague me, and to stop every now and then and gaze out the window. I resolve to be free to do nothing at all. I resolve to ignore the little voice that reminds me that I should really be doing something with my time. Each day is a gift, and I'm finally going to start being grateful for it.
I will love every minute of running. I'll increase those minutes if it starts to feel really good, but will definitely resist the urge to feel guilty about not increasing my minutes. I feel great when I run, and there's no way on God's green earth that I'm going to spoil that with guilt.

As funny as it sounds, these resolutions are going to be much more difficult for me than the standard "Excercise more, eat healthier, work harder." But these resolutions are going to help me get SO much healthier. Horray!

Happy New Year to you and yours!

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-23T09:49:00.000-08:00

From our family to yours!

December 7: Time to go home

2010-12-22T07:50:00.000-08:00

Just a couple of Australopithecusses standing around

Dec.7/10

In flight, leaving Addis Ababa

We're all packed up and ready to go. I'm looking forward to seeing our Canadian kids again, but I really don't want to leave Ethiopia yet. I love this country!

This morning we went to the National Museum, where we saw oodles of ancient artifacts. Lucy was found in Ethiopia, and I understand that Ethiopians are quite proud of their country being the cradle of humanity. Unfortunately, Lucy is on loan to the Boston museum for five years, so we only got to see the fake Lucy. I do hope that Ethiopia is being well paid for the loan!

We finished our shopping for the orphanages, at last. This is what was divided between KVI Addis and KVI Adama:

200 kg Tef
60 litres oil
10 bars soap
2 XL boxes laundry soap
40 kg rice
40 pairs shoes
6 XL cans powdered milk

I've added everything up and put the main list on the sidebar. For those who donated, whether it was clothing, medicine, shoes, diapers or cash, Thank You. Your gifts made a huge difference to the children in the orphanages. May God bless you and reward you for your generosity!

At the Tef factory

We had originally planned to split the donations between KVI Addis and KVI Soddo, with a little bit given to the Transition House as well. But Solomon (KVI Addis) warned us against it: he said that if KVI Adama heard that Addis and Soddo had received a huge load of donations, their nose would be out of joint. haha! So we did end up dividing the goods three ways, with the largest portion going to KVI Soddo, since it is (by far) the poorest of the orphanages. Soddo Solomon called today to let us know that the kids and staff in Soddo are loving the chance to have a little oil in their wat. :)

Tonight before leaving, we walked to the market one last time to purchase some bread for our trip. We paid 2 birr for it (about 12 cents). When Molligatah heard the price, he laughed and said it was a ferenji price, but how much lower could a whole huge chunk of bread be? It seemed a fantastic price to me, anyway. We had a final coffee ceremony with Asenaku and Zenabah, and they also tempered Joanne's coffee pot for her. I videotaped the whole thing, so I can do it with mine when I get back to Canada. (Note: Sadly, my coffee pot was smashed to smithereens on the way home. I'll have to get another one on our next trip!)

We ate one last meal, then said all our goodbyes and headed to the airport for our 11:30pm flight. It was so sad to leave; we truly felt at home here. I can't say enough good things about the KVI Guest House. All the money we spent here goes directly to support the orphanages, and that alone is enough reason for us to come back here. The staff honestly felt like family; we enjoyed every minute of our stay here. I can't wait to come back!!!!!

Closest I've ever been to the Greek islands

Hi Gudrun!

December 6: We have met the kids!

2010-12-21T09:17:00.000-08:00

Dec.6/10
Addis Ababa

Feeling a little nervous, waiting to meet my children!

This morning we met our children for the second time -- this time as their parents!

We got picked up at 10:00 by Kids-Link Solomon. Seriously, we're dealing with THREE Solomons here: KVI Guest House Solomon, KVI Soddo Solomon, and Kids-Link Solomon. (Insert clever wisdom joke here.) The Transition House is very close to the Guest House. We were led straight into the parents' room, where we stood and nervously watched the corridor as Sister Hana went to get the children. Sure enough, our daughter appeared first, dressed in a super cute pink jumper dress; then came our son, in brown cords and a white soccer T-Shirt.

The kids were a little shy at first (and maybe we were, too!)

The first few moments were a little awkward! It was a little surreal to be a family, but not to know each other at all. It was odd, and unsettling.

He was a very happy guy.

Once the care packages came out, though, the ice was broken! They were absolutely thrilled with the photo albums; they loved seeing their own pictures on the first page, and as they looked through the photos, you could watch them make the connections about who we were. Our son, especially, was definitely putting two and two together, and visualizing himself in the photos.

The next, and biggest, hit was the voice recorders.*** They both just held them up to their ears, big smiles on their faces! Our son tried every button, explored the battery compartment, flipped the tape around, danced to the music, and got all excited to hear his name on tape.

She pretended it was a cell phone ("Hello, Mommy!")

Our daughter pulled the doll out of her backpack (thanks, Moe!) and that was it... she didn't put it down again, even when playing soccer with Mr Gwen! She also loved the headbands, and put one on her head, one around her neck, and three on the doll.

We spent the rest of the visit outside playing soccer. Both kids have great kicks! Our daughter sat on my lap and played with her doll: that was so sweet!

It was a nice visit, about 1hr 45min. Both kids -- especially our son -- were ready to come home with us today. It was so, so sad: Sister Hana had explained several times about the Visa wait, but what kid understands the demands of Citizenship and Immigration Canada? (Heck, what adult understands it?!) We could easily understand that they wanted to go with us. It was so difficult to leave them there.

After we left the Transition House, we did some more orphanage shopping. We purchased:

200 kg Tef (will pick up tomorrow)
~30 litres oil
40 kg rice
laundry soap
powdered milk
soap
another 20pr children's shoes

These donations will be divided between KVI Addis and KVI Adama.

Not much else to report. The Gulleys and we went to Cloud 9 for dinner: excellent service, totally mediocre food. We looked around the mall afterward; I'll go back there and get some shoes for the kids on our next trip.

This is our last night in Ethiopia. :(

*** I specifically chose the older tape recorders, as opposed to the digital voice recorders. I thought it would be too easy for the children to accidentally delete the voice files on a digital recorder. I'm not sure this was a wise move, though, since it's also quite easy for them to press "record" on the tape recorders, and erase the tape. We'll see, when we pick them up, if there's anything left on the tapes!

December 5: Back in Addis

2010-12-21T07:01:00.000-08:00

Cattle, ever-present on the highway

Get out of the way, Molly and Bessy!

Mooooo!

Dec.5/10
Addis Ababa

Back in Addis. It's starting to feel like home!

We were in Wolayta Dec. 3/4. As I said, the trip was incredible. The scenery was magnificent: the soil in and around Soddo is rich red, and everything looks so lush and fertile. I don't know what it's like before the rainy season, but it's certainly beautiful now! We must have seen thousands of donkeys, goats, cows and oxen, plus lots of dogs and chickens. Driving in Ethiopia isn't for the timid -- vehicles always have the right-of-way, and people and animals just have to be careful. But pedestrians and animals share the roads with vehicles, so sometimes it gets a little hairy. I don't know what our driver Tilahoun would do if the horn on the van ever broke.

Some typical sights we saw:

barefoot children making the trek for water with plastic jerry cans
women with huge loads of firewood on their backs
people carrying sacks of grain on their heads
small children responsible for tending flocks and herds
donkeys loaded with so much sisal or hay that you can barely see their heads and legs
women and children doing laundry in muddy streams and rivers
oxen treading out grain -- honestly! Just like in the Bible!

By the time we were back in Addis last night, everybody was ready for some Western food. We went to New York New York (restaurant) for burgers and fries. Yum!

Today we were so wiped out that we decided to skip church and get a little much-needed rest. We had breakfast at the Guest House, then puttered around, sorting laundry, etc. And I committed the crazy sin of brushing my teeth with tap water! :o I was thinking of a million things, and just did it automatically. I caught myself mid-way, and rinsed really well with bottled water. I have been feeling funny all day, though -- I must have eaten something yesterday that was iffy. I stayed home from Kaladies (a coffee place) when Mr Gwen and the others went there this afternoon, but I did get out to Makoush (restaurant) with everyone else for dinner. That was a big mistake, though... I'm not actually sick, but definitely feeling a little weird. I'll fast all day tomorrow, and hopefully starve out any nasty bugs that are camping out in my tummy. Urgh.

It was fun to go to Makoush tonight, though. Shirley had picked up her girls in the morning, so we got to meet them. They are little sweeties! Our two know her girls, of course, having lived together in the orphanages. Shirley and I plan to keep the kids in touch through Skype. Um, this means I have to figure out how to use Skype -- I guess we need to get a webcam!

We Saw What We Saw

2010-12-20T11:55:00.000-08:00

We interrupt our regularly scheduled journal updates to bring you this video -- for those of you in our family & church family, this is the edited, online version. :) Enjoy!

December 3 and 4: Wolayta

2010-12-20T09:19:00.000-08:00

Street in Soddo, outside the Fanta Vision Hotel

Dec.3/10

Soddo, Wolayta

We met the children's birth mother today. I'm struggling even to know what to write. She is a lovely, lovely woman who clearly loves her children immensely. When we gave her the photo album, she cried and kissed their faces.

note: Obviously, the rest of this post is censored, because we're keeping the information about the children's birth mother private. This is their story to tell, not ours.

The meeting with the birth mother was easily the most significant, life-changing time that we spent in Ethiopia. For those of you who have a chance to meet your children's birth family, I urge you to do so -- the photos and video we have of this visit will be priceless to our children.

Resting under a tree; outside Soddo

Dec.4/10

Soddo, Wolayta

approx. 6:00 am

Now that I've had a good night's sleep, I'm thinking more clearly. I'll try to describe the incredibly significant day we had yesterday!

This guy showed us his home made toy -- very cool!

We were up and ready to leave the Guest House in Addis by 6:30am. It took a while for all the donations to be loaded into the van; Tilahoun ended up strapping some things to the roof. We were on our way by 7:00, and after picking up Shirley at the Weygoss, we headed out of Addis.

The drive south to Soddo was beautiful. The further south we went, the more beautiful and picturesque it became. Soon the countryside was full of tukuls - the round huts with the thatched roofs. The people also became noticeably poorer the farther south we went. We saw SO many donkeys, goats and oxen on the roads!

It was about 6 hours' drive to Soddo. Soddo itself is home to approximately 50,000 people, but somehow it has a real small-town feel. The roads are generally not paved; the soil is very red and quite beautiful. It makes me sad to think of our children being transferred to Addis -- such a big, noisy, scary city -- even if the Addis orphanage is much better equipped.

Lots of donkey traffic in Soddo

When we arrived in Soddo, we checked in to our hotel and took 30 minutes to freshen up -- that's difficult to do when there's no water and no power! I flopped down onto the bed and nearly gave myself a concussion: this is the single hardest bed I have ever felt in my life. We may as well throw a sheet over a concrete slab and bunk down for the night.

And then we were off to the orphanage! The compound itself is quite small, and very, very poor. I didn't see much of it then, as we were ushered into the director's office straightaway. The director, Solomon, seems like a wonderful man who is doing what he can with very little. He was so thankful for the donations we brought, asking us to please pass on our thanks to everyone who donated. (THANK YOU!) Our donations included:

rice (30kg)
oil (15 litres)
diapers
soap
medicines
digital thermometer
clothing
vitamins (thanks Mom!)
sheets
blankets
shoes (~35 pairs)
cash

Dropping off the donations... the staff was overjoyed!

We planned to give Teff, but Solomon indicated that they were in need of cash, as they're having trouble paying for vehicle rentals and children's paperwork. We weren't at the orphanage long -- it was time for us to go visit the birth mom.

note: the rest of this journal entry is censored for privacy. Thanks for understanding!

A lovely, traditional tukul

December 2: It's Over... They Are Ours!

2010-12-17T06:46:00.000-08:00

Writing in my journal after court

Dec. 2/10
Addis Ababa

After a somewhat sleepless night, we had breakfast with the Gulleys as usual. I'd woken up at 3:00am and just couldn't go back to sleep, so it was a good time to just pray and think. It was actually a good time, because I really got settled inside myself, and realized that the whole situation was completely in the Lord's hands. No amount of stress and fretting would change the outcome. I still really wanted to pass, obviously, but had peace in my heart that God's sovereign plan would prevail.

Before breakfast, Asenaku (at the desk) said a few words that meant a lot to me, although they sound so simple. She said, "God knows the best. He knows the plan before you came to Ethiopia." Something about that really touched me!

After breakfast, the Gulleys prayed with us, along with Gennet and Solomon. It was really special to me; we'd prayed for the Gulleys on their court date yesterday -- it's a wonderful thing to meet other believers who are sharing the same experience.

Right after we finished praying, the van arrived -- Germatchew was here to pick us up! We left in a flurry of hugs. Shirley was waiting in the van and we talked 100 miles a minute as we drove. We stopped at the Kids Link office to pick up Martha, then went on to court.

This branch of the Federal Court is in a very unobtrusive building. The elevator was broken, so we walked up 5 levels. I'd heard from the Gulleys yesterday that Martha had a hard time on the stairs with her high heels, and I had to smile to myself when I saw her in flats today.

The lower levels of the building were full of Ethiopians, a few with children, but mostly alone. It was very sobering to see them, and know that while I was there for an exciting, joyful appointment, most of their hearts must have been just breaking. I especially noticed a disproportionate number of grandparents: it was so sad to imagine what their stories might be.

On the fifth floor, we sat down in a waiting room that was full of adoptive parents who were all looking quite tense! Coincidentally, Shirley was called first, within 2 minutes of our arrival. She was out in about 90 seconds, with a big smile on her face! It was a beautiful sight!

And then it was our turn. We were ushered into a small office by a young woman. Martha accompanied us, and we sat down. The judge is a beautiful woman, very soft spoken and gentle. It's actually quite difficult to hear her, she is so quiet! She asked us if we had children, if they were biological, and how they felt about this adoption. She wanted to know how we had educated ourselves about transracial adoption, about Ethiopian culture, and about identity issues. And finally, she wanted to make absolutely sure that we understood that adoption is irrevocable and cannot ever be canceled. She asked, "Are you sure that you want to be the parents of _____ and _____?"

I'm sure we both had huge, beaming smiles as we both said positively, "Yes, absolutely."

The judge finished writing in her book and said gently, "That's all I need. They are yours."

I burst into tears and managed to gasp out, "Amasaganallo," as Martha ushered us out. After so long, and after so many roadblocks, it was just that simple: "They are yours." The whole process took about 3 minutes.

I'm totally overwhelmed and can hardly believe it's true. They are our children. Those sweet little children are OURS. I'm so, so thankful to God -- what an amazing gift!

note: below, I'll copy the blog post that my sister put up when she heard our happy news.

-----------------------------------------------

Gwen's email Sent Wednesday, December 1, 11:25 PM

Most beautiful words in the world: "They are yours."

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... I feel like I have just shed about 900 lbs off my shoulders.

We won't be able to see them until Monday, since we're going to visit the Birthmother tomorrow (2 day trip), then it's Sunday, so we'll see them on Monday. Then I'll be able to take new photos and send them!

Thanks for all your prayers, we felt very peaceful and confident this morning.

-----------------------------------------------

And now - drumroll, please!!

Ladies first! This is our baby girl, who we`ll call Ehet for now. (Amharic for `sister`.)

And this is our son, who we`ll call Weundem. (Amharic for `brother`.)

-----------------------------------------------------------

Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think..unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.
Eph 3:20-21

-----------------------------------------------------------

December 1: Day Before Court

2010-12-16T06:28:00.000-08:00

5:15 am: Sunrise in Addis as we listen to the call to prayer.

Dec. 1/10

Addis Ababa

Another great day in Ethiopia!

I think a lot of the fun stems from the fact that we are here at exactly the same time as our new friends from Alberta, Dennis, Joanne and Bekah Gulley. They're great people, lots of fun and easy to be around. Joanne reminds me very much of my wonderful friend Michelle who has moved away. No wonder I like her so much!

Dennis and Joanne had court today (they passed!) so my husband and I were by ourselves in the morning. We went back to the little market up the street, and purchased 2kg Mit'n Shiro (20 birr / $1.22 per kilo) and 1kg Berbere (40 birr / $2.43). We also got little backpacks for the kids' care packages. We'd originally put their things in ziploc bags, but after seeing the orphanage, we decided they need a little backpack to keep their things together.

It took ages to get the right backpacks. To begin with, I hate haggling. I hate, hate, hate it. I know that it's cultural, it's part of the process and it's expected, but doing it makes me feel cheap and mean. Well, of course the minute we showed our shiny white faces in this market, and the minute it was clear that this time we'd be buying, we were pretty highly sought-after. The shopkeepers all call out "Sister! Sister!" and just start showing me random items that they think I might like. There was this one dude who just wouldn't quit following me, displaying his wooden-handled mops and brooms for me to admire. Not sure how I'd be getting those home to Canada!

Anyway, in the end we found two backpacks, a reasonable looking dark green one for our son, and a hilarious pink one for our daughter. The front shows an extremely creepy cartoon picture of a goat with a soft wooly head, and it says "Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf." It was the only girlish looking one in the market, so I went with it, to the disappointment of the man in the next shop who had tried to sell me a gigantic camouflage man's backpack for my 4 year old daughter. ("Top quality! Good price!")

* note: I've just Googled it, and it turns out that

Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf is a Chinese TV show. Who knew?

After we came back for lunch, we went with the Gulleys to the markets where wood crafts are sold. We purchased a fantastic wooden bowl, painted with elephants, for my mother who is staying with our Canadian kids. The starting price was 800 birr (approx. $49 Cdn), which even I understood was outrageous. It's an undisputed fact here that, for any given item, there is a regular price-- and then there is a Ferenji price. If the Ferenjis are dumb enough to pay the Ferenji price, the shop keepers will go ahead and let them. Well, 800 birr for one bowl was ridiculous, even for a Ferenji price!

The Market

Unfortunately for the shop keeper, just then Solomon walked by the shop and I called out to him. As soon as Solomon stepped into the shop, the poor shop keeper just about shrunk to the floor -- he realized his fatal error in starting with such an astronomical Ferenji price. Solomon was my champion: he bargained like a professional. He insulted the bowl. He raised his voice. He grabbed my arm and started walking away. He pulled me back. He stroked his chin and looked thoughtful. He did everything a master haggler does, in fact, and we walked out of that shop with the bowl, only 320 birr ($19) poorer. Thank you, Solomon! My mom will love it!

Good price! Top quality!

I also got myself some great salad fork/spoon set (30 birr), a Mancala game (for which the shop keeper said, with the air of someone making a great concession, that he'd give me the rocks for free) (120 birr), and two small carved wall hangings (30 birr). We did go to Bookworld today as well, where I got a couple of children's books for our Ethiopian children.

The rest of the day was very low-key. Another adoptive mom from the Yahoo group arrived today. She has the visa to pick up her 2 year old daughter. It was neat to see her greeting the Guest House staff like they were old friends -- I think it really is like a family here!

I love the fruit stalls here: the displays are so lovely!

Tomorrow morning we go to Court. I am nervous. If we don't pass, we won't see the children again, nor will we be able to go to Soddo to meet their Birth Mom. Oh, please Lord, let us pass!!!!

November 30: Entoto National Park

2010-12-15T06:00:00.000-08:00


This little guy saw the Ferenji and stuck pretty close to Mom!

Nov. 30/10
Addis Ababa

A great day today! We went up to Entoto Mountain to look over Addis. It just happens to be the 21st day of the month today (I think it's the month of Hedar in the Ethiopian calendar), so it's a special day for the Ethiopian Orthodox people: the Feast of the Holy Virgin Mary. It's especially significant to women.

As a result, thousands (and I mean thousands) of people were swarming up the hill to hear the High Priest preach. Vehicles were prohibited because of the sheer number of people, but they let our van go up because it was full of ferenjis. Now, that didn't strike me as being fair!

Most of the people were dressed in traditional clothing, with nearly everyone swathed in white shawls/scarves. Even the little children, of whom there were many, were dressed up in their traditional outfits. It's a very long walk up to the top of the mountain, especially for children, and I was impressed at the devotion of so many, to take their whole day to go hear the High Priest. It was all very exciting, and we talked in the van about how it must have been something like this when Jesus was on the earth, with droves of followers walking all over the countryside to hear Him speak.

A lovely view of Addis Ababa from Entoto.

At Entoto, we finally encountered the swarming, begging children. We've heard that it's now illegal to give handouts through vehicle windows, but that sure didn't stop them from asking. The children come to the van windows, or swarm you if you're out walking around. They'll just say, "Money! Money!" or pat their tummies and say, "Hungry." One boy even held up his hand so I could see a tiny growth on the side of his baby finger, and he batted his eyelashes at me and pointed to the growth. At first it's hard to say no. But it's patently obvious that some of them are only asking for handouts because we're white: some of the girls have nail polish on, and maybe a little jewelry, and they are clearly well fed. With them, it's easy to be friendly but say, "Yeul-lem." ("No.") But for the ones who truly do appear hungry, it's much more difficult to resist.

Although my heart is definitely touched by the street children, I do believe that it's unwise to give to them. Our policy is this: if someone asks us for money simply because we're white, we won't give to them. If we see Ethiopians giving to a beggar, we may follow suit -- generally those people are truly in need. As the Bradt guide says, "Needless to say, blind beggars do well with me." One thing, though: we don't give to anyone unless we are just about to go into a shop, or just about to get into the van. Even when it seems that no one is around, giving even a birr or two to a beggar is a sure way to draw a crowd within seconds!

At the top of Entoto, we walked around a little. There was a lovely family -- Dad, Mom and toddler -- taking a little break and looking at the view, and when I asked if I could take their photo, they were thrilled: they absolutely loved seeing the photo of their child on our digital camera!

The whole family, out for the holiday.

The crowds were pretty incredible. We stood for a while and listened to the Ethiopian Orthodox High Priest speak; it was quite an unusual experience for us, as we're Protestants who don't have a whole lot of liturgy and ceremonies. Seeing all the significant religious articles and seeing the great respect for the High Priest was really interesting. I liked it.

There were also some hermits who were preaching! Now, that is a sight I have never seen. They truly are John The Baptist types, all wild and crazy and energetic, standing on makeshift platforms and preaching what seemed to be pretty charismatic messages! I didn't see any locusts in their lunchboxes, but I wouldn't have been surprised.

After we came down from Entoto, we went to the woman's cooperative: it's a scarf factory where former wood carriers are now working. There were lots of children in the compound -- I'm assuming they're the children of the women. The scarves were really lovely; I'd recommend a stop there to anyone traveling to Addis.

These weavers were so fast you'd hardly believe it!

We also went to a shop run by disabled craftspeople -- I believe there's a school for the blind run out of the same building. I loved this shop; there were lots of handmade toys (which I desperately wanted to purchase, but which were just too big to get home), household linens, etc. We bought several wooden puzzles: one big puzzle of all the African countries, one Nativity scene, one of an Ethiopian woman carrying water, and one of a man playing a Djembe. Very cool. I also got a tablecloth and 6 napkins: linen, stamped with designs of an Ethiopian coffee pot.

Yup, kids do karate poses all over the world.

Next, we went to Shido Mata, a market where they sell traditional clothing. Although I'm not an enthusiastic shopper, especially when haggling is involved, we did pick up two outfits for our Ethiopian kids, and a shirt for Mr Gwen. I've emailed our Canadian children to ask if they're interested in an outfit, too.

We went to Blue Tops for pizza, and when we got back to the Guest House we had a coffee ceremony. (Yum!)

Dinner was at Yod Abyssinia again, although to tell the truth I'm not crazy about the food there. But there's dancing in the evenings, which we'd heard was worth seeing. Since the place was packed out, we ended up sitting in the front row, off to the side by the kitchen area.

The dancers were incredible; they performed traditional dances from various regions of Ethiopia. The Gurage dance from one of the tribes in the SNNP region was the best! (Our kids are not Gurage, but they are from the same region.) That was towards the end of the night, and by then I think some of the audience had already had a few too many; lots of people from the audience went up to the stage to join the dancers. It's so cool that these traditional dances are still being danced. I love it that both new and traditional culture can co-exist, although I guess, like anywhere, the old traditional ways are slowly dying out as the country becomes more and more modernized.

Anyway, the dancing was amazing. We were just about ready to go, watching the most intricate and energetic dance so far, when.... the lead dancer came down off the stage, sashayed across the floor and dragged Mr Gwen onto the stage! Now, my husband is not a dancer. The only thing that could have been worse would have been ME on that stage... I think I would have wet my pants in terror. It was so funny; I was almost in tears, I was laughing so hard. Dennis videotaped the whole thing, and I think we may need to bribe him not to post it on YouTube when we get home. The dancer tried to teach my husband this traditional Gurage dance, without much success; the whole restaurant was roaring with laughter, although it was goodnatured and not mocking. He did great and was a good sport about trying to learn this crazy dance, and had everyone cheering in the end. A night to remember!

Below: The dance these men are doing for the first 15 seconds of this video

is the dance they were trying to make my husband do!

November 29: We've Met the Kids!!!

2010-12-14T07:06:00.000-08:00

Nov.29/10
Addis Ababa

We met our children today!!!

In the morning, we went to the Hilton to exchange some dollars into Birr. We were going to be picked up by the Kids Link driver, Germachew, at 11:00 to head to the orphanage, so we killed some time having coffee at a great little shop called Tomoca. Joanne and I were getting pretty nervous by this time, so it was good to have someone to talk to!

The Hilton... let's pretend this is what Addis is really like.


Sign at Tomoca -- "When you drink a cup of coffee, ideas come in marching like an army."

We drove back to the Guest House and waited until 11:45 or so, when Germachew and Sister Hana showed up. (Not that we were watching the clock or anything!) The Gulleys went to the orphanage first, since their little baby would soon be going for a nap. My husband and I puttered around like old women, nervously organizing things in our room, and writing quick emails. It was so nerve-wracking, to think that after so, SO long, we'd finally be seeing them face-to-face.

At about 12:30, it was our turn. As the gates of the orphanage opened, the very first child we saw was our son -- he had been waiting for us. When he saw the van with Ferenjis (foreigners) inside, he shouted, "(sister's name), (sister's name)!!!" and ran to find her.

The purpose of this visit is meant to be totally secret from the children. They are NOT meant to know that their prospective, adoptive parents are coming to look specifically at them. The reasons are obvious: if the parents fail to pass court for any reason, the children would feel even more rejection and abandonment than they already do. If the children don't know that these Ferenjis are their future parents, they won't feel any pain if the adoption falls through. Parents are told, very sternly, that we are not to pay any special attention to any specific child(ren); we are to treat them all exactly equally.

No, that won't be difficult at all.

Well, that's the way it's supposed to happen. In practice, however, I'm not sure how well that works! I do know that our children definitely knew that something was up. I am absolutely convinced that they knew we were there for them. If nothing else, the fact that our son was kept home from school that day must have tipped him off! Throughout the visit, both children were keeping their eyes absolutely glued to us. It couldn't have been more obvious that they believed we were The Ones.

As soon as we stepped out of the van, we were just swarmed by children. The kids are all so, so sweet; they are clearly being treated well, but they were all over us, definitely parent-shopping, calling my husband "Daddy! Daddy!" in Amharic, and looking for attention. The little ones were hugging me, and I did sneak in a tiny kiss on my daughter's head. Our boy had to be coaxed into coming close, but he edged away after hugging me. (Please note: I hugged ALL the children, not just ours!!!) I was furiously scanning all the children's faces, looking for any referred children I recognized from the Yahoo group, but it was very difficult to tell who was who. And it wasn't the sort of environment where I felt comfortable asking the staff about individual children. The staff are obviously displeased with the new law that requires parents to meet the children pre-court, and for good reason: I think they are fully aware of the negative impact it can have/is having on the children.

The teachers organized the kids into a circle, and they played a sort of "Duck, Duck, Goose" game. The person who was "It" stuffed a wadded-up shirt up the front of their own shirt, and walked around the circle singing a call-and-response song. When they decided who to tag, they pulled the wadded-up shirt out and dropped it behind the person. Then it's just like Duck, Duck, Goose -- the point is to run around the circle and be the first to sit in the empty spot. I think the game is a great way to let parents surreptitiously observe their children, by the way. It's a good opportunity to see them interact with other children, display decision making processes and gross motor skills. And I really did love to hear their sweet little singing voices!

My husband sat in the game circle (wow, I love that man) and the kids on either side of him were far too busy stroking his watch and snuggling up to him to pay much attention to the game. It was so sweet, but also so sad. I know there are many kids in the orphanage who won't end up being adopted, for one reason or another -- most, because they're simply too old.* It's a great orphanage, yes, but no orphanage can provide the love, security and stability of a family. I pray that those older kids can be adopted to a loving family.

* by "old," I mean any child over 5 years old.

The game dissolved when another van rolled through the gates, and the kids all ran to greet the visitors. It turned out to be Solomon from the KVI Guest House. Our daughter approached me, and I crouched down. She hugged me for a long time, then slipped her little legs over mine, so she was sitting on my lap. I was getting a nasty look from the staff, so I gently put her down and stood up, trying to look casual. But then she put up her arms to be carried! Well, I would pick up any child in an orphanage who did that -- it just happened to be my own referred daughter. So I picked her up and held her briefly, then playfully set her down again and turned my attention to other children. It was very difficult to pretend to be nonchalant, but I could feel the staff looking daggers into my back! Oh dear!!! I can see why the Ethiopian staff isn't crazy about this new law; their job is clearly made difficult by these situations.

The visit was just about over -- the children were called inside for lunch (an excellent lunch of injera and some sort of meat wat), and that was that. We did get shown around the orphanage a little, and although there is a very strict no-photo rule, I tried to commit it to memory. I poked my head in the room where the kids were eating, and one of the caregivers LOUDLY pointed out our daughter. She looked up right away, and smiled at me -- I mean, COME ON! Is this supposed to be secret, or what??! I tried to just smile and wave at all the kids, but our children's faces made it clear that they suspect.

For their sakes, now that they are so positive we're here for them, I so, so hope we pass court on Thursday so that we can see them again before we leave Ethiopia.

I'm really tired and ready for bed, so I'll stop now. We did take a walk around the neighbourhood surrounding the Guest House, and found a great little market up the street, past the mosque. If I had a quarter for every time we heard the word "Ferenji" called out, we'd be rich by now. :)

Poor goats, trotting in happy ignorance to their doom.

Heading to the market, just up the street from the Guest House

November 28: First Full Day in Addis!

2010-12-13T05:14:00.000-08:00

Nov. 28
Addis Ababa

Our first full day in Ethiopia! I woke up at 5:30am -- my husband heard the muzzein in the mosque down the street from us at 5:15, but I slept right through it. We went to church with Solomon, Tilahoun and the Gulleys from Alberta; it was a multi-cultural, English-speaking church, and it felt exactly like a conservative Evangelical church in North America. We sang Chris Tomlin songs and everything. Quite funny!

After church we went for lunch at Yod Abyssinia. Good food -- it turns out that my sourdough injera tastes very close to real injera, which is a relief -- the kids will probably eat it happily! But I must say that Tafel's recipe for Doro Wat is far better than the one they're using at Yod Abyssina. Honestly! It was a great meal, though.

We drove to the orphanage afterward, so Solomon could ask about our meeting the kids tomorrow. (He wasn't getting through on the phone.) I was concerned because we're supposed to go tomorrow at noon, and our son should be in school then. We parked outside the gates, since we're not allowed inside, and a caregiver came out to talk to Solomon. The gate was open just a crack, and we could just barely catch a glimpse of the children playing inside. It was so surreal to be close to our future children, but unable to see them. I can't wait until tomorrow.

We got back to the Guest House and crashed. I woke up after 20 minutes or so and puttered around a bit, and wrote an email to our family. I wish our Canadian kids could have come to Ethiopia with us. :(

A Sailor Went to See See See

There are a bunch of little kids living in the shanty-type houses across the alley, and I hung out with them in the morning, with the Gulley's daughter. So much fun -- it's amazing how much can be communicated without words! They are downright hilarious; they sit out there with their eyes peeled, watching our windows. As soon as they see a glimpse of us, they start screaming out, "hi! hi! hi! how are you! hi!" ..until we finally give in and go play with them. They don't beg for anything, just for our attention. We showed them "up high, down low -- too slow!" and a simplified version of "A Sailor Went to See See See." And they demonstrated their cartwheels and handsprings, right there on the jagged and broken pavement. I wish I had brought some sidewalk chalk; I assumed there wouldn't be any smooth surface to draw on, but there is a tiny bit of pavement in front of each gate. Next time I'll bring some for sure.

Cirque d'Addis

Tonight we had a coffee ceremony with Asenaku, Zenabah and the Gulleys. It was lovely! Asenaku has recently transferred to the Guest House -- she was previously working as a caregiver at KVI Addis. She was excited to hear that we will be adopting (our boy) and (our girl). I asked her what they were like, and she said she'd especially loved those two. She said that our son is very shy and quiet, and he likes to play soccer. Our girl is much more vocal, loves to sing in Wolaytan, and loves to play hide and seek. Apparently our girl is NOT shy; she is always the first to raise her hand when the children are asked who wants to sing.

Coffee ceremony with the lovely Zenaba (R) and Asenaku (L)

Asenaku said that our boy does an interesting thing that's unlike any of the other children: he will not eat until his sister has eaten first. Even when the caregivers reassure him that she will be fed, he won't eat until he sees that she has food in front of her. My heart nearly broke to hear this. What a terrible load he's had to bear; how terrible it is that they understand the pain of hunger and deprivation. I'm going to have to brush up on all the research I've done about food issues, and sibling/parent role issues.

Asenaku confirmed the meanings of their names: our son's name means "God's chance", as in "God has given a chance to live."
Our daughter's name means "She rains."

One final thing: since our children speak both Amharic and Wolaytan, our son acts as the translator for the caregivers, when other children from Wolayta come into Addis.

Note: Wolayta - wohl-EYE-tah

Tomorrow we meet the kids!!!!!

November 27: First night in Addis

2010-12-12T07:57:00.000-08:00

NOTE: We're back home, safe and sound! I'll be posting about our trip every day for the next little while, based on what I wrote in my journal while there. Enjoy!

Vancouver: Breakfast, after getting through US Customs. Around 4:00 am


Seattle: Mr Gwen doing pushups in preparation for a 10.5 hour flight to Frankfurt

Frankfurt: no evidence of the famed German efficiency

Lufthansa's flight tracker: Almost there!

Nov. 27/10
11:15 pm
Addis Ababa

We are finally here! It took ages to get through the Visa lineup, then Customs, but Solomon from the Guest House picked us up with no problem, and now we're here at KVI Guest House.

My first impressions of Addis Ababa? Such heartbreaking poverty. The power in the city is out tonight, and maybe that's making things look worse than they are -- but I sat in that van on the way from the airport to the Guest House, and just wanted to cry. There are homeless people everywhere, sleeping on the sidewalks with blankets pulled up over their heads; young prostitutes lining the streets, some in their early teens; stray, mangy dogs everywhere you turn. I have never seen anything like it, despite having gone to other developing countries. I'd thought that the poverty in Jamaica and Mexico was bad. But the little I have seen of Ethiopia so far is absolutely shocking. I knew that Ethiopia ranks in the 10 poorest countries in the world. But reading about it is nothing like actually seeing it.

The more I get to know about Ethiopia, the more I am coming to understand that the cultural gap between us and our children will be enormous. What has shocked me, tonight, is totally normal for Ethiopians -- although I'm not saying it's not heartbreaking to them. But it grieves me to think that my children have seen these same sights. I'm glad that we'll have a bit of time to adjust to and appreciate this culture before taking them into our care.

I could write lots more, but I'm completely exhausted after the flights! Must get to sleep -- breakfast is at 9:00, then church at 11:00. I'm really looking forward to seeing this city by daylight!

Home Sweet Home

2010-12-09T05:48:00.000-08:00

Arrived in Vancouver yesterday afternoon, but couldn't get a flight home as they were booked solid. We're leaving Vancouver this morning, and will finally see our Canadian kids again! Can't wait to hug them.

First thing I will do: make myself a proper cup of tea. Second thing: have a long, slow bubble bath in 100% drinkable water! Horray!

YES!!! THEYRE OURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-12-02T10:35:00.000-08:00

Gwen's email Sent Wednesday, December 1, 11:25 PM

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And now - drumroll, please!!

Ladies first! This is our baby girl, who we`ll call Ehet for now. (Amharic for `sister`.)

And this is our son, who we`ll call Weundem. (Amharic for `brother`.)

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Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think..unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.
Eph 3:20-21

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