In The Blink Of An Eye

I hope my friend Angie will not mind me posting her story here. Actually, Angie is my administrative assistant as well as my friend. She is really good. So good, my new boss is stealing her away from me for herself. I'm not upset about that because I think it will be a good move for Angie, who is a really hard worker and a single mom to 3 teenagers. Her oldest is 16 and is working this summer at the University. Yesterday his department called looking for him saying that he had not returned after lunch. They had let a good hour go by before calling her. Also, they were in a pickle because he had his boss's keys in his pocket, which were the master keys to everything in their building. Angie of course was concerned, and took the van to to see if she could find him in what she hoped might be some of his suspected hangouts. She came back empty handed. She called his boss back, and by this time his whole department was looking for him (and their keys). I heard her on the phone arguing with his supervisor, saying it was time to call Campus Police. She asked me to drive her back up to his job, she was going to wait it out there. (Our campus is HUGE in case your wondering why we do all this driving around. Huge enough for a teenager to get lost.....) After I got back, she called and said the police were there and asked me to pull up the cameras on a couple of our stores that he usually frequents for lunch. My assistant manager who is also a technical whiz, pulled him up in no time. He had come into the store at the bio-science building and bought a sandwich at 12:01 pm. Now it was after 3pm and no one had seen him since. I know (from experience) that kids do some crazy and irrational things sometimes, but this kid, not so much. And I kept trying to hang on to that feeling, because I was starting to feel the panic and the helplessness. I could only imagine what Angie was feeling.
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One time LG got lost in Sears at the mall. He was about 3 or 4 at the time, and it was just like they say. I had he and his brother right by my side as I was checking out new clothes for them for the school year. They were bored to death, and not giving me a moments peace. I was concentrating on the sizes on the rack for oh, say, 30 seconds and I looked down and he was gone. NG was right there too and he did not even see him disappear. We frantically searched the area briefly, and then I immediately went to customer service and reported it. I was already completely panicked and fighting it, and the staff certainly was not moving fast enough for my satisfaction. It was a huge effort to keep my voice and my actions under some semblance of control. They radioed each other all over the store, and I said I was going looking. They formed a posse too and we started spreading out, them talking on their radios with that look of concern on their faces. I'm sure my features were completely distorted by the panic I felt inside. The more we searched the more my feelings escalated. It took everything I had to not completely freak out. The rational part of me told myself that little boys do these sorts of things sometimes. I know because I had 3 little brothers and the youngest did this exact thing to my mother once in Mervyns department store. Still, the other part of me was eyeing the exits and wondering which one the pervert escaped from with my kid!

I sensed him before I really saw him. My peripheral vision caught his movement thru the clothing racks (pint size, about 3 feet tall) before I really caught him in my eyesight. I turned around and actually chased this slight vision I had caught, came around a corner, and there he was walking towards me with tears streaming down his face. We were far from where we started. Needless to say our shopping trip was over. We went out into the mall and he sat on my lap (which he had not wanted to do for some time) and he cried and I cried and even his 9 year old brother cried with relief. I asked him why he did it. He was just playing, and he thought he could find his way back. He was wrong. He got lost. Now he is 15 and I still have to watch his over-calculation of his abilities without undermining his confidence. It's a tight-rope. You never want to revisit this feeling, but when you are raising kids, there is no guarantee.

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The cops searched the building at bio-science. I wondered if they had thought to go look at her car. I wondered if he'd gotten upset with his job and decided to quit and was waiting it out at the car. I drove to the deck where she parks and found her car. He was not there. I got caught in a down pour and came back looking like a wet rat. I did not care. I was fighting that panicked feeling by keeping busy. Also, I was praying. Constantly. This did eventually relieve my panic because after about 45 minutes of it, this feeling of peace came over me. I somehow knew he was all right. But I was also feeling impatient because how in the world does a 16 year old kid responsible enough to hold a job get lost??? Now I was praying for his deliverance. Finally at 5 pm, I decided to make a quick trip home, feed the dogs, change my clothes and come back. Angie had called saying she was coming back to our office now to wait, and that she was not leaving campus until they found him. I told her I would be back. Lynda, my assistant manager was there with her. We had no real plan except to just hang together. I was getting exasperated with the authorities, and I'm sure Angie was beyond that. At 6:30 I was driving back (in another torrential downpour---the flash flood type) when Lynda called to say the police had found him! He had been locked in a computer lab for 6 hours. It was the last day of finals for summer session and parts of campus were preparing to shut down for the next 2 1/2 weeks. Computer theft is a problem, and so they were locking it up tight for the shut-down. He managed to email his way out of there. That's how they found him. It was hard to remember personal email addresses, but he finally got hold of someone in Housing. It still took nearly 6 hours. Still, now he is safe and sound, and it's all good.

Aves and I were talking about the need to advocate for our children when we were in Haiti last month. All children, not just minority children need our advocacy. Angie had to press the supervisor to get the police involved. They probably did not want anyone to know that someone unauthorized had a set of state keys on his person. On the other hand, they had lost a set of state keys which is definitely not good. So they were in a bind. I know she would have gotten the police involved regardless. I remembered to say a prayer of thanks. God is faithful. He told me Nick was OK, and I believed Him. I was impatient for deliverance. I guess I need to work on that.

Life Interrupted

My friend Jen brought her baby home from Haiti 2 weeks ago. One of the issues she is dealing with in terms of adjustment is the loss of her old life, the way things were before she had five kids at home instead of four. It got me to thinking about my own impending adjustment. No one has come out and said it to me (yet) which has kind of surprised me, but I'm sure it's coming. You know the logic; here I am getting back into raising little kids again, when I've got one out of the house and another one with a few short years left. I'm sure there are plenty of folks I know thinking I've gone plumb crazy. Don't we yearn for our own independence after years of hard hard work and premature grey hair? When we can travel or move or ride a Harley anywhere we want to?

Well, yes...I guess. But when that all starting looming as a reality for me, I realized I missed something, and I was not done yet. And then I realized that there were millions of children out there in the world that needed families. Of course I already knew that on an abstract level, but it wasn't real to me until I took my blinders off and really started looking around the globe with a different eye. Before that, I shut myself off to that reality because I didn't know what to do about it. And, because I was preoccupied with my own life. I was self-centered. (And, just to let you know, I still, and always will, struggle with that particular character defect.)

My boss ( a woman who has contemplated adoption herself) came right out and asked me why I didn't decide to adopt stateside. I would have loved to do that. But our system is not conducive to the adoptive parents, or even the children involved. Our system is about the rights of the birth parents. I'm not going into a discussion about that right now, except to say that I knew I could not deal with the back and forth that often entails, or the damage it does to these kids. I heard so many stories of failed adoptions. I knew I could not afford it financially or emotionally.

But anyway, back to my self-centered lifestyle which is about to disappear. I'm OK with it. I was worried about it the first time I was pregnant. I had always been wildly independent (some would say that is still true). I have a huge creative streak in me that has to be nurtured, and sometimes it has to be nurtured MY WAY. That means that getting creative cooking dinner is not gonna satisfy me. I already knew this about me when I first gave birth at the age of 29. And I was able to work it out. Nick did take naps, and I learned to organize my day so that I could work at that kind of thing while he was asleep. I figured it out. So for me, it's not so much about traveling the world or riding a Harley. It's about artistic and/or creative expression. I mean, kids can travel. And I don't care a hill of beans about riding a motorcycle.

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I rob myself of this time now more than my kids ever did, because I let my job and the stress of being a single parent do that to me. That's the real culprit. I find I squander alot of time now, trying to deal with stress and fatigue. I don't know all the answers on how to make this better, but I'm working on it and I'm open to suggestions. Good health and exercise is a major key. These are things you can no longer take for granted in your 40's/50's. Your body becomes like that classic car you have in the garage and you love. You have to be careful with it and you have to be proactive. And you have to be "prudent". I think it sucks, but I'm finding that's just the way it is.

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Sometimes I just have get off the schedule and do what I have to do. I had my day all planned out and it entailed cleaning and projects. I ended up doing very little of that today. I had planned on making my sister a bracelet and some matching earrings for her (very belated) birthday present. Which I did, and I enjoyed it so much I just made jewelery all day long. It had been so long since I had done this, I just could not stop!

Butterflies on the brain....

Finally, I get outside to let the dogs do their thing! I was engrossed!

Shout Out!

We are in MOI! M said last month that it would be about a month before we were there, and I was hoping it would be this week, but goodness knows, (international adoption rule #1) things rarely happen on schedule. But this time it did! Yay!!!!!!!!

Papillon

As a student of Interior Design, there are certain very important questions about the adoption process that haunt me. Such as, how am I going to do the girl's room? I knew what colors I wanted to use. I felt I needed a theme. One day early last spring I saw these storage boxes, and I knew I had found it.

The pink fabric is some heavy-duty cotton/linen I picked up from fabric.com late last winter for their duvet covers, at $1.99 a yard, and 90" wide, so it was a true bargain. My other anchor color is a light apple green (not sure of the real name, since I bought a gallon of it---Sherwin Williams---at the flea market for $3.00) I was not planning on incorporating blue into the scheme, but after finding these boxes, I knew I had to find a way, so I will. I also will be using the botanicals, as I have lots of those kinds of prints and want to get them out of my living room. I have so much to do before I actually get to that point it's ridiculous. I have to move my son out of the room he's in now, and I'm working on getting his new space ready. That is another feat in itself. Interior design is really about working with space. The decorating is just the icing on the cake. So I am grateful to be putting my education to the test. When it is all said and done, this place will hopefully be a study in efficient, tiny house living. That will probably last for one day after the girls get home. But I will be sure to get the pictures for the one perfect day!

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At any rate, about "papillon". I know butterflies are very overdone right now, but they hold so much meaning for we humans that are amazed by them, they are irresistible. And universal. I took a card of inexpensive earrings with me to Haiti last month, that had 3 sets of butterflies, and some matching crystal posts. I thought the girls would go for the crystals, but immediately W said "papillion!" and picked out the pair she wanted. She wore them the entire time. Sadly, I tried to put a pair in L's ears, but her piercings had healed. I think she already knew that, because when I could not make it happen for her, she just accepted it. W also ran across the hall to give another pair of butterfly earrings to Mim, who also wore hers the entire time.

It confirmed in my mind I had made the right choice about my theme!

In Culture (Wikipedia)

Art
"Artistic depictions of butterflies have been used in many cultures including Egyptian hieroglyphics 3500 years ago.[46] Today, butterflies are widely used in various objects of art, and have inspired the "butterfly fairy" as an art and fictional character. "

Symbolism
"According to the “Butterflies” chapter in Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things, by Lafcadio Hearn, a butterfly is seen as the personification of a person's soul; whether they be living, dying, or already dead.

The Taoist philosopher Zhuangzi once had a dream of being a butterfly flying without care about humanity, however when he woke up and realised it was just a dream, he thought to himself "Was I before a man who dreamt about being a butterfly, or am I now a butterfly who dreams about being a man?"
In some old cultures, butterflies also symbolize rebirth into a new life after being inside a cocoon for a period of time."

That just about says it all. This is a perfect symbol for our family.

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One of the most difficult things about art school that you have to get over in a hurry, is critiquing. Your work, along with everyone else's is put up on a regular basis for comments. I would say that most of the time it was edifying, and once I got over my initial fears, it was extremely beneficial. Also, you learn alot because you are looking at other people's work as well, and oddly, it teaches you to be autonomous in your art. You learn you have a voice. The instructor always gave the last comments. One time she told me (after looking at one of my pieces) that cultural icons, like "hearts"--- and also used the example of flowers---were best left alone because they were so universal it was difficult to do them well, or to make a statement. I would assume she also meant things like butterflies. I have to say, this is one time I would have to take issue. If no one ever attempted to depict these things in art, what a colorless and unimaginative place we would live in!

But, I will not be buying a ton of "butterfly" accessories for this project. I do find much of that stuff to be sorta garish. I have decided instead to do a mural. I will keep you posted on that. I'm pushing my timeline on all of this, so you can expect it to be done right around the time they come home!

Poverty and Desperation

A news story came out last week that I have hesitated to post. There is no doubt that attention needs to be drawn to the matter of child slavery in Haiti. Most of us familiar with Haitian culture are aware that this is real. I have been hesitant because:

1. There are perverts out there that could use this information in evil ways
2. ABC has done a decent job of presenting a factual picture, however, their reporting is biased and aimed at selling (therefore sensationalizing) their story. For instance in segment one, they don't let the viewer know that it would be almost impossible for ANYONE to get a child out of Haiti without the proper paperwork, and there are actually enough safeguards in place between the Haitian government and the Embassies to prevent that. They also do not present the fact that the "seller" could EASILY take the "buyers" money and run. And probably would. They love Americans. Naive and rich.
3. Still, there is much truth in the report, especially in the second and third segment, and it is very hard to watch.
4. I'm not sure if this story was meant to portray the Haitians badly or not. If so, that is not a fair portrayal. There is evil everywhere, just as there is good everywhere. I am not defending the evil in this situation; it is indefensible. What is always amazing to me in Haiti is how much good you will also see despite the circumstances. Most of us cannot comprehend this level of poverty and desperation.

I read the comments sent in by viewers, to ABC after this was aired on Nightline. Most Americans were ignorant of this situation, and most wanted to help but had no idea how to go about it. Many seemed to be extremely shocked. Some came to the realization of how blessed we really are. Many asked about adoption and did not have a clue on how to get started. A few very naive and judgemental comments concerning women's rights (lack of knowledge of lack there of), birth control, UNICEF and the UN, and of course, the anti-adoption folks, to me the most unrealistic of all. There were many requests for ABC to do a follow up story.

The story was presented in 3 parts:

part 1

part 2

part 3

you can help

sign a petition to end child slavery in Haiti (non-ABC affiliated)

This was very difficult for me to watch. I know that the Haitians do love their children. There is not a quick fix for Haiti; the problems are complex and will not be solved overnight. More than ever I respect my Haitian children's parent (s) for making the best decision about the girls that they could under the circumstance. I know that when the adoption is finalized, I will not be done in Haiti. The best way to help is to educate. Educate us. Educate the Haitians so they can break free from this captivity of poverty and sickness and hopelessness. I know that sounds simplistic, perhaps even idealistic, but that is the best place to start in my opinion.

The reason I decided to post this story anyway? Dysfunction thrives under silence. If this reaches just one person who decides to help even in a small way, I would consider it progress.

The Day I Met My Daughters

Normally I don't live my life saying "one year ago today..." but last year was such a watershed year, that I do find myself doing that alot lately. So bear with me, 'cause this was, in retrospect, one of the most important days in my life. One year ago, today. It was the day I boarded a plane in Miami (after pulling an all-nighter, of course!) bound for Port-au-Prince, with my miracle-fast dossier. It was the day I met a lot of soon to be important people in my life, like M, the director of the O. Most importantly, it was the day I met W and L. I did not know they were going to be my daughters before I got there. When I saw W in the orphanage courtyard that afternoon, cruising the perimeter of the action, I was immediately bowled over by her physical presence. I also experienced a twinge of recognition which I chalked up to having seen pictures of her before. But to me, her pictures did not do her justice. Sometimes I wonder if at that moment I actually recognized her on a deeper level. Because I had such a gut reaction. And I don't really react to physical beauty normally. I mean, there were a ton of really cute little kids running around there. Later, when Dada the nanny brought them out to the porch for me to actually meet, I was again taken with their physical beauty but also their mannerisms. They must have been scared. They were sweet and shy and well behaved. Especially L. :) Dada was trying to get them to be extroverted, but it was a stretch. (OH HOW FAR WE HAVE COME!) I actually had to cut the visit short, as we were rudely interrupted by a desperately aggressive Haitian woman who brought her daughters in for me to meet, and took over all the interaction. When the woman started showing me her older daughter's teeth, I had to get out of there. I just couldn't take it. I made arrangements to bring W and L to Walls for the following day to visit, before I left. This was our beginning.

Pride

I wasn't planning posting this, but it was so darn ironic, and to me, *FUNNY*---I just have to go forward.

Since I have been back from my trip, I have felt renewed in a number of ways:

re·new (dictionary.com)
To make new or as if new again; restore: renewed the antique chair.
To take up again; resume: renew an old friendship; renewed the argument.
To regain or restore the physical or mental vigor of; revive: I renewed my spirits in the country air.
To replenish: renewed the water in the humidifier.
To bring into being again; reestablish.

v. intr.
To become new again.
To start over.

This is very significant to me. Life lately has been very difficult, especially the past year. Some of these things I've blogged about, *ad nauseaum* (adoption woes), some I've have touched on, and one thing in particular I have not mentioned at all. It concerns my job and all that drama, and probably deserves a blog all it's own. You know, one I would name after a particularly heinous soap opera. It would not be an exaggeration. But even that situation is becoming resolved, and after years of dysfunction and strife, my job is beginning to resemble a place of employment as opposed to a never-ending, drama producing, production retardant black hole. But I digress.

My house, my home and garden, has fallen by the wayside under all this pressure. And I have struggled with that, but most of the time did not have any energy left to do much about it, which produced frustration on top of frustration. I could not understand what was wrong with me. It just seemed that all I could do was survive. Besides the job drama and the adoption (that should be enough) my personal situation and the not-yet blogged about-aftermath took a huge toll. I would eek out some effort or a project here and there, and then everything would fall into disarray again. I have never liked to clean, but I love a clean house, and I have always managed to keep it together. Things got so bad I considered hiring someone to help me come in and sort the junk and get organized, like they do on HGTV, but I was just too embarrassed to do that. And I was afraid with my state of mind I would not be able to maintain it. Plus, I knew somewhere deep down inside me, I had what it takes to get 'er done, but somehow I just couldn't.



At this point you may be thinking "go to the doctor and get some meds!"...I am all for getting medication when you need it, but I fear we live in an over-prescribed society. What I was going thru, I felt, needed to be dealt with cold-turkey. I was right about that. As I have said previously, the past year has been about a very close, right-under-His-wing, walk with the Lord. (That being said, I did find out over the past year I do have a chronic auto-immune problem that has likely been a contributing factor. And that is being addressed with medication.)


So, somehow, finally, I have been renewed. Maybe not completely healed, but on the up-side! Getting there. You know what I really hate? How much junk mail we receive, on a daily basis. It's ridiculous. I had let it pile up, along with the regular mail. I mean, really let it pile up. It was all mixed in together. So Saturday afternoon, my project was to go thru this mess in an attempt to get my dining room table and my life back. It took several hours, and I burned up my shredder (R.I.P.) but it was completely worth it. My dining room table looks awesome, my mind started organizing my next project, and this is what I found, in the all that mess:



My economic stimulus check from the Feds

Gift cards to Lowes, Starbucks, and Earth Fair (whole foods store)



Total value: $990.00



I am going to tell you the truth. I sat down and laughed and cried at the same time.

So, why am I posting this awful confession? What's wrong with me?

Because I'm doing my best to keep it real. This has been a huge issue for me. So many of us hide ---SOMETHING---in our attempts to *look good*. We hide our shame. It's a house of cards, I can assure you. But when you find almost $1000.00 in a pile of junk mail, well, there is just so much material there to think about!

I am very grateful about finding this stuff, of course. But more than that, I am grateful for the gift of renewal. And that trumps pride.