A Visit to the Walled City


Earlier this month, we took a trip to Quebec City. While Montreal demolished most of its charm in the 1960s and 1970s in favor of modernism, Quebec City kept its old town in tact, including the fortifications. There's not much traffic in the Old Town, and the historic part of the city is small enough that you can easily walk everywhere. The architecture and cobblestone streets help maintain that Old World atmosphere. They even amp up the charm a bit with carefully weathered signs and colorful shutters and throw in a little bit of art deco for good measure. This makes it a lovely place for a weekend break. We walked, we ate, we purchased maple-flavored sweets, we admired old fire escapes and a cannon ball lodged in a tree, we climbed things, and in a dramatic turn of events, Pete smashed Xander in an incredibly harrowing sledding competition. It was everything a weekend away should be.

The Obama Seder

This made me smile. I mean, honestly, who doesn't love a good Seder?

What Are You Doing Here?

Seriously, why aren't you busy filling out your Name of the Year Playoff Ballot and voting in the regional competitions?

Special thanks to Jejune for the heads up. Because I don't have enough to do around here.

Julius, Upon Learning Our House Will Soon Be Occupied By Two Babies

I Just Want to Thank Everybody I've Ever Met in My Life

We passed. (PASSED!) We are parents. (PARENTS!) Of twins! (TWINS!) Two beautiful children we have never met but are totally in love with. How weird is that?

I was so moved that I felt like I should give a speech, so I recorded one especially for all of you who have made our adoption possible. I even set it to music. You can watch it here. Go ahead. I'll wait.




Well, okay, all that minus the Tom Cruise part. But you get the idea.

I can't believe a judge decided to grant us custody of two children! Despite the fact that I am super high strung and my husband has bad teeth. Despite the fact that we allow dust bunnies the size of polar bears to amble about our apartment. Despite the fact that I never went to finishing school, cannot bake, and curse like a sailor. Despite the fact that my husband occasionally rocks out in his underwear to songs like this. What else is there to say but AHHHHHH!!!!

Some of you probably have a lot of questions about what happens next, our travel plans, etc. We don't have any answers for you, and it's quite likely we won't be sharing them all here anyway. But we are parents, and we are going to Ethiopia. Eventually. And one day in the not-too-distant future you'll return here wanting to read something of substance and find this website plastered with way too many pictures of adorable babies doing really boring things. And all I have to say for myself is that it took us more than two years to bring our children home, so cut us some slack.

We plan to spend the next few days just absorbing. Absorbing and, when we're ready, celebrating with friends.

No News Is Bad News

Tomorrow is our day. Again. (Or rather tonight, since court in Addis will get going shortly after we go to bed.) If we get good news, I'll post something tomorrow. If not, well, it might take me awhile to compose anything coherent. Really, all we are hoping for is some news.

So as far as the Public House is concerned, no news is bad news. Or no news is no news. But no news is definitely not good news.

Since this may very well (finally) be our last day of waiting, I thought I'd post a link now to an article that describes in part what being a waiting parent is all about. It also includes some ideas for coping. The only thing I would add is that you have to get through the wait however you can. People's coping strategies are all very different. If you are in the midst of this process, go with what works for you, not what someone else says you should be doing. If you make it to the other side alive and with most of your relationships still intact, you've done just fine.

Just one last notice: I vow here and now not to abandon the still-waiting folks if we become parents tomorrow. If at any point I start spouting off to one of you waiting parents about how "it will all be worth it in the end," feel free to punch me in the face.

Returning to Normalish

In recent years, Xander has developed a habit of becoming a huge fan of one song and listening to it over and over again for a week or so before moving on to another one. The tunes he is drawn to are usually insanely catchy, like this one, and easily become lodged in the brain. Lately, Xander has been obsessed with this song. He listens to it repeatedly, and anytime I'm near my computer says, "Hey! Let's watch that boombox video!" It is in this context that one day this week the following conversation took place while I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed:

Xander: (singing "Boombox" lyrics and dancing in hallway)

Alana: (combing hair) Seriously, you have to stop. If I wake up with that song stuck in my head in the middle of the night, I'm going to punch you until you wake up, too.

Xander: (smiling, rests palms on either side of the door frame) Oh, c'mon! You knew what you were getting into when you married me.

Alana: (serious) No, that's not true.

Xander: Oh, sure it is! You knew this could happen.

Alana: (puts comb down, turns to face Xander) No. I claim that when I married you, there was no way I could have known that years later you would log onto a website called "YouTube" to watch the same music video over and over again, then use special software to rip the audio from said video, and then import the audio to something called "iTunes" so that you could listen to the same music on repeat for days on end. There is no way I could have known you would do that.

Xander: (long pause) Did you just cite YouTube as a reason to nullify our wedding vows?

There Are "Problems," and Then There are Problems

I mentioned a few days ago that after last week, I'm finding it hard to care too much about daily life and regular-type problems. A friend of mine wrote an essay along similar lines the other day. My friend's daughter was recently diagnosed with a chronic illness that will likely affect her every day for the remainder of her life. Another friend was just diagnosed with a chronic illness as well (via an ultrasound that her insurance company refuses to pay for, mind you) that forces her into a lifetime of hormone therapy. Another friend recently lost her husband to cancer. A fellow adoptive parent is struggling with having survived the earthquake in Haiti while trying to help her newly adopted children cope with the trauma they experienced. And these are just a few examples of what people we know are dealing with right now. Recently, I have been worried that our adoption would fall through thanks to the highly questionable ethics of one dreadful agency (not ours) and a handful of adoptive parents. (It turns out that some parents have failed to take their children home after legally becoming their parents, leaving those children stranded and ineligible for adoption by any other family, in Ethiopia or elsewhere.) I worry that the entire program will close, leaving millions--MILLIONS--of orphans with no options and no hope. I worry about the upcoming elections in May. I worry about finding the most responsible means of helping Ethiopia and countries like it sustain themselves so that more children can grow up in the communities to which they are born. It is all so overwhelming. And thinking about such things really highlights how much we all take for granted. It makes things like which health insurance to buy and what cell phone company to choose and what to have for dinner and who is right and who is wrong and whether or not we can afford to replace our television seem utterly ridiculous.

What spoiled people we all are.

I wrote a few weeks ago about how I don't have the heart for Lent this year. But really, this whole experience has been a Lenten journey. I feel pretty broken down these days. (I realize those sentences make me sound way more religious than I actually am. We're Episcopalian, which really means whatever we want it to mean. I guess you could say we stand on ceremony but not on dogma.) I keep thinking how redemptive it would be for us to have a court decision next Tuesday. How Easterish Easter will feel as new parents. Or, if we lose the twins, how it will still be time to start anew. That's what we do in the spring, right?

All I care about right now is getting a court decision--an actual decision--on Tuesday.

If we get to bring the twins home, our two biggest concerns will be to get them to eat and to get them to make eye contact with us. That's it. Not what kind of stroller we buy or whether or not to let them watch television or whether or not their onesies are made of organic cotton. We'll be all like, "Honey! Dinke looked at me! In the eye." And that will be our biggest accomplishment ever. The day we'll know we've made it as a family will be the day I'm stressing out over whether or not the strawberries Xander brought home were grown locally without pesticides.

We take a lot for granted in an effort to make our lives livable. We find problems in absurd places in order to keep things interesting. But actually, I think it is essential to our sanity that we allow ourselves to be distracted with the daily nonsense of our lives. We need to worry about what color to paint the walls and which car to buy and that person who pushed ahead of us in line at the grocery store. As wrong as it sounds, maybe it is healthier to worry about those things than how to house 5 million orphans. But I think it will be awhile before I am able to care about that stuff again, and I hope that when I do, I retain a greater sense of perspective.

I'm doing my best to fake normalcy. In meaningless distractions this week, I finished a pair of pajama pants and made a new tank top from some t-shirt scraps. I bought new fabric to make a couple of skirts, but I'm kind of afraid to start them until my head clears a bit. To give you an idea of how foggy things are up there, when I stitched up my pajama pants using a method I've used a dozen times before, I ended up making a skirt the first time, not pants. Oops. Luckily when I fixed them, my French seams covered up my mistakes just fine. Until I went to clip a frayed edge and accidentally cut a hole in the pants. So yeah, I think I'll wait on those skirts. How's that for "problems?"

Must Read This

This is a worthwhile read.

Why We Support Health Care Reform in the US

Because, in our specific situation, Blue Cross basically considers having been adopted from Ethiopia a pre-existing condition, and presently there is no law preventing them from doing so.

Here in Canada, our kids would be covered, no questions asked. Because why would one child deserve a better start in life than another?

From Cousin Anna's Phone

Xander was in NYC last week and got to see my cousin and her family. (Yeah, that's right. I was home alone for all the adoption drama.) It's amazing how fast the girls are growing. And just look at Xander. This dude is ready for some babies. As he says all the time, we're ready to get out of beta testing and go live.


Still just lying low around here. Thanks so much for all of the lovely messages. I'm sorry that I haven't responded to everyone. I know I'm not the only adoptive parent to go through a phase like this. Those of you who have done this before know what it's like when you get to this point. Suddenly, performing routine tasks takes Herculean effort. Daily concerns and things one might normally consider to be problems now seem so ridiculous. We're hoping this part will be over soon.

Here's What We Know
**UPDATED**

It looks like other people are talking about this openly, so I guess I will as well. Only I'm leaving out some things, because our case is unique in so many ways, because some of the details are personal, and because some of what I have to say is not exactly positive. But you can dig around on other blogs for more adoption-related dirt.

A few days ago, I had a post all ready to be published that announced that after more than two years of navigating this adoption process, we were finally parents to the most beautiful children on the planet. We had a court date. It was for March 9th. We didn't tell anyone, because we didn't want to have to call everyone if it didn't go well or got postponed. We figured everyone would forgive us for lying when we got to share the good news. Well, it's good we didn't tell anyone, because our date got postponed for a reason that was really, really frustratingly simple (and absolutely not related to any fault in our case) that I won't go into here. But okay, deep breath. We got a new date: March 23rd. No problem. We could keep it together for two more weeks. And surely March 23rd would be our day. 3 1/2 months post referral. Plenty of time for any problems with our case to be worked out. It had to be March 23rd. Chin up, chin up.

And then on Thursday, my phone rang. It was Xander. I was out shopping for fabric with a friend and practically ran out of the store to answer the phone. I just knew something was wrong. I don't know why. I just knew. I answered the phone that way. "Ohmigod, what's wrong?" No hello or small talk. Instant terror. It was weird. Xander told me that when I got home I was going to see an email that was going to scare me, and he wanted to warn me about it.

The email contained the news that the Ethiopian Federal Court officially ruled that all prospective parents must be present at their court hearings, effective immediately.

I sat down in the parking lot, my poor friend just standing there unable to help, and I just...lost it.

Now, if we had known about this before we got our referral, we'd be okay with it. If we'd known even a couple of months ago, we'd be okay. But we found out 12 days before our court hearing. Our second hearing, mind you. So Xander asked if the new ruling would apply to us. Probably not. Maybe not. Hopefully not. Our lawyer is going to try to argue that it shouldn't. But that doesn't mean the court will listen. It doesn't mean they will honor our court date. Our case could be tied up for weeks or months while they try to get this all worked out. We have no idea what is going to happen. We don't know what to do. Buy plane tickets? Wait it out? No one knows.

And even if we did scramble and get over there by March 23rd, and even if they did honor our court date, and even if we did pass, we still wouldn't be able to take our children home. No. We'd have to leave them there, come home for two months or so, then go back to get them when we were assigned an embassy date to get their visas and such.

I'm okay with the change in principle. It's not that I don't think it makes any sense. If it had happened earlier, if we hadn't already been put through delay after delay, we'd likely be thrilled at the thought of meeting the twins sooner than expected. We're fairly intrepid folks. If not for the newly diabetic cat that needs a caretaker, I can't say we wouldn't be willing to just move to Addis for two months. But...I...ugh. This after all the problems we have had so far. Really, Internets, you only know the half of it. What this really means for our case is that our children are going to spend even more time in an orphanage. Pointless, useless time.

This feels like a test, only I don't know how one passes such a test.

All we want is to bring the twins home. That's not even quite right. All we really want is for their situation to be settled. For them to be safe and happy and loved by a parent. For someone to hold their little hands and help them learn to use their legs. For someone to point at things and name them. For someone to kiss their tiny fingers. For someone to pick them up and put them down and take them for walks. If it is going to be us, then we want to know it is going to be us. If it's not meant to be us, then we want to know that as well so that we can begin to move on. It is this state of limbo that is so difficult to bear. Being matched with children and having to wait so long to find out if they really will be your children is the hardest thing. It's so painful that I just don't even know how to describe it. I am not arrogant enough to talk about them as though they are mine until they really are mine. Observing Ethiopia's laws and adoption system is so important to me that I just can't bring myself to think of them as my children until the judge makes it so. But all the same, I'm obsessed with them. I worry about them. I long for them. They seem so much like they could be ours. I'm sure it's all in my head, but they just look like they fit us. When Dinka laughs, he reminds me of one of my brothers when he was little. Dinke's continued expression of uncertainty reminds me of my own forever-skeptical self. My whole life, the women in my family have said I would have twins. They used to tease me with the fact that twins run in our family. When we got matched with twins, it was like, "Of course I'm having twins. I always knew I would." It was just so perfect. We really believe that we would be good parents to these children. And they are so beautiful. Just so, so beautiful. Bright-eyed and alert and healthy and amazing. We pray for the privilege of getting to know them.

Yes, yes. I know I'm subjecting you to all of this mushy stuff that I try to avoid talking about. Humor me. It's been a rough month.

So, I dunno. If you're the praying type or the meditating type or the superstitious type, we would appreciate it if you'd do whatever it is you do to send positive energy our way. We could use it. We're fresh out at the moment.

And if you can't do that, then donations of cookies or chocolate (or beer) would be great. Or frequent flier miles, since it seems like we are going to need those as well.

Anyway, I think I need a break for awhile. I'm feeling both upset about the situation and frustrated that I'm letting it get to me when, all things considered, we are so fortunate. I'm finding social interactions, conversation, going places to be incredibly difficult. The usual distractions are no longer working. As Xander says to me almost every day, "I want my babies." I'm not sure anything else will help right now.

**We just received an email from our agency that says the following:

Regarding the change, requiring the presence of prospective adoptive parents at the court hearing, it was decided on March 12, 2010 that implementation of this decision will be postponed until May 8, 2010.

So it looks like we are going to be okay, but I will sure feel a lot better once we've talked to them again and get verbal confirmation. And I'll feel worlds better if we do indeed have court on March 23rd.

Hibernation

We at the Public House are on hiatus for a little while. No one's dead or anything. Just...hibernating. Adoption still on, just a tad bit more complicated than before. (And no, I don't want to talk about it.)

I'll be back once things calm down a bit. And who knows. I may post a random photo or two in the meantime just to cheer us all up.

That Social Networking Site

I was both sad and happy to learn recently that a very good friend has come over to the dark side and joined That Social Networking Site (TSNS). Happy because I now have a new way to keep in touch with her. Sad because if she of all people can't resist, then it means there really is no way out for me. I find being a member of TSNS like being stuck in The Hotel California.

On the one hand, TSNS has allowed me to keep in touch with people that would have been lost to me otherwise. It has allowed me to renew old friendships. It lets me see recent photos of friends and their families. It's a great way to keep tabs on who has a play opening or a concert or a book coming out or an art exhibit or fundraiser. It's a great way to keep up with and share news stories, too. But it's also a bit of a pain to keep up with, yet another venue for unwanted (and often pointless) conflict. Thanks to TSNS, I have had more encounters with assholes than I care to count. People who turned out to be enormous bigots or hyper-religious nutballs or just plain jerks. Bullies who picked on me when I was thirteen have used it as a means to keep doing so. People who don't like the way I live my life now have an electronic means by which to criticize and evangelize. It's a whole new medium in which to be bitched out when someone is having a bad day and needs an outlet. Worse than in real life, maybe, because people are willing to say things online that they would never say in person. I have also had once-meaningful relationships reduced to pointless one-line comments, comments that are never supposed to be taken seriously even if they are indeed serious. Once you're on TSNS, you can mostly forget about getting emails or phone calls from your friends. They just made a snarky comment on your latest photo, so why pick up the phone or send an email? And never mind what TSNS has done to things like punctuation and spelling. Did you know that the period has been replaced with "lol?" So u can go ahead and remove that key from ur keyboard lol unless u have an iPhone lol

Okay, so my text speak needs some work.

I think the problem for me is that I am generally frustrated with some of the effects technology has had on relationships. You can't expect to get anyone's undivided attention anymore. You can't expect that anyone is actually listening to what you are trying to say. I have one friend, for example, that only emails me one or two-sentence messages from her smart phone anymore and only ever talks to me on the phone if she can multitask. At a dinner party not that long ago, our host spent the latter half of the evening texting a friend rather than interacting with the guests. And I can't tell you the number of times I've been having lunch or dinner with someone only to have them check out of the conversation to text or talk to someone else.

I guess the bright side of this shift would be that now I am free to only halfway pay attention to the people in my life, too, but that doesn't feel like much of a bright side. Why would I want to give other people the impression that they are not important to me? That I can't stop what I'm doing for 15 minutes or even an hour to chat or enjoy a meal? I do have a few hold-outs. A few people who are still willing to set up phone dates and do nothing but talk while on the phone. A few people who still send emails that have entire paragraphs in them. But it seems the majority of people don't do that anymore. And I wonder if now we have to satisfy ourselves with 400 shallow relationships rather than a handful of really meaningful ones. Because that seems to be what That Social Networking Site is all about.

I am presently on a Lenten TSNS fast, because it seemed like the perfect thing to give up this season. Honestly, I don't miss it that much. I miss interacting with a few people that I really do enjoy and care about, but the fast is also highlighting how much more I enjoy my real relationships, the ones that exist outside of social networking sites. It has been nice getting actual emails and phone calls from people rather than just snarky comments on my "wall."

Will I go back? Yes, but it makes me a little unhappy to do it. I guess I'm just not ready to give up all of those relationships, even if they have become shallow imprints of what they once were. You know how it goes. You can check out anytime you like...

Wizardry!

Okay, so maybe I'm a bit too obsessed with this guy and this commercial, but I couldn't help but wonder how much of the commercial was live and how much was digital. Was it really shot in one take? Is he really on a boat? On a horse? It turns out that someone else wanted answers as well, and he got them:



I also liked Salon's response to this ad, which I largely agree with. This ad sure beat the pants off those other ridiculous, bullshit, poor pitiful manly-man Super Bowl commercials that are so highly insulting to both genders. (And then there's this response, which annoys me just because it calls attention to the aforementioned ridiculous, bullshit, poor pitiful manly-man Super Bowl commercial.)

Another Non-Update

No court for us this week, either. We just found out. But at least we can enjoy the rest of our week without waiting around for news.

But hey! If you are looking for another way to distract yourselves AND you are a fan of Family Guy, check out my brother's latest project for TBS.

Monsters and Dinosaurs

This past weekend, Xander and I took a mini-vacation to Quebec City with our friends Katie and Peter. It was a much-needed break, and we had a great time. On our way back, we decided to stop by this place:


We wanted to know what the "number one family stop between Montreal and Quebec" was all about, and it seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime photo opportunity. We saw this:


And this:


And these:




It was the perfect end to a perfect weekend.

Random Acts of Kindness

I love surprises. We have recently received a couple of very special surprises for the twins.

Xander has a little sister named Liz. And Liz has a friend named Maria. And Maria has a mom who is a master quilter. Really. Anyway, Liz told Maria about the Fabertids, and Maria told her mom, and her mom decided to make them each a quilt. She has never met us. I'm not sure that we have even met Maria. And yet her mother spent hours making two very cool quilts for our kids. Now is that not one of the nicest things you have ever heard?


Also, a favorite Internet buddy of mine recently sent us a beautiful knitted sweater for Dinka. Again, totally unexpected and completely sweet. I also just love the sweater. It looks very upper class and cool, and it has lots of cables which are my favorite thing.* I imagine him lounging about the house in it next winter and acting kind of suave and regal. And regal he will look. Trust me. Kid is handsome. If anyone can rock a purple man sweater, it is Dinka.


These random acts of kindness really cheer us up when we feel frustrated by all the waiting. It may sound silly, but having things like this for the twins really do make them seem more real. It keeps us from feeling like this has all been one big practical joke. It's not about the stuff so much, but rather the acknowledgment from others that we are about to become a family. It makes us feel supported, and that is so important right now. Thank you.


*I love to crochet, but cables are the one thing that I envy about knitting. Crocheted cables just aren't as nice.

Enter to Win!

My friend Amber, a multi-talented musician and promoter of arts education, has organized a fundraiser to help raise money for programs in Athens-area schools. (Georgia, not Greece.) You can enter to win a guitar signed by R.E.M. (Are we from Athens or are we from Athens?) Tickets start at $5, and you don't have to be present to win. The drawing will be held on March 19th, so you only have a couple of weeks to enter. Here's the link:

WIN MONEY! Er, no. WIN A GUITAR SIGNED BY R.E.M.!

I really believe the work Amber and her colleagues are doing is worthy of support. Arts education in Georgia is in desperate need of funding. Because of the lack of state funding for arts programs, people like Amber are volunteering their time and energy to bring things like music and theatre and art to kids from schools that lack such programs. This is especially important for kids in rural areas, because they do not have the same access to concerts and museums and such that kids in cities have. They often do not have the opportunity to learn to play an instrument or to paint or draw or participate in theatre productions. I was lucky enough to grow up in a family that valued art and dance and music, so I had more exposure than most kids in my area. I learned to draw and play an instrument and act and was even part of a ballet company. And of course I grew up to work in museums. But the truth is that in the area where I grew up, many kids never enter a museum. Never see a concert. Never attend a play or the ballet or an opera. Never learn to draw or play an instrument or express themselves creatively. There's just so little support for that stuff. The people making the decisions don't view the arts as being an important part of a childhood education, even though historically art and music have been part of education for centuries and have been demonstrated to be enormously beneficial to children.

Incidentally, I am planning to do some work with Amber later this year to help teach kids about careers in the arts. So if you support Amber's work, you are essentially supporting me as well. And I need support. Please, go forth and enter.

Chefbots

This was in the New York Times recently. Of course I had to go look for a video of the robot-run noodle shop:

Gimme a C, Eh! Gimme an N, Eh! Gimme a D, Eh!

If you missed this yesterday, you missed what was probably the most exciting hockey game in the history of ever. Several of us were so torn about which team to cheer for that we assigned roles. (Watching sports is only fun if you have someone to cheer for, in our opinion.) I cheered for Team USA, but I have to say that I'm really happy for Team Canada. Well done, boys.

We watched the Canadian coverage, and perhaps the most amusing part of the broadcast was when the announcers did us the favor of outlining Canada's strategy. According to four men in ties, the strategy was to be something like this:

1. Score goals.
2. Don't let the other team score goals.
3. Make Team USA face adversity.

I think Canada was mostly successful on items one and three.

After the game, as we walked out into the (surprisingly balmy) February night in stylish Outremont, we heard absolutely nothing. No cheering. No happily babbling people stumbling out of sports bars and pubs. This confirmed something we have often thought about but never bothered to put into words: Quebec is technically in Canada, but it's not that Canadian. Next time we move to Canada, we should move to Canada.