Chance Encounters...

Back in 2000, I was stranded in the Dallas airport because the airport windsock was standing out horizontally from its mast. They shut DFW down every time I fly through just to make me crazy. Walking the interminable length of the terminal, looking for something, anything, to eat, I saw a girl with a McDonald's bag. I walked over and asked where I could find McDonald's. When she started speaking, I realized two things: she was from some other country and she was obviously smarter than me because she'd mastered two languages. She pointed me in the direction of the restaurant. I said thank you and went off to exchange far too much cash for a Quarter Pounder with cheese and fries. Facing what would likely be a long, boring stretch in the terminal, I went dragging back in the direction from which I'd come. I staked out a spot, ate my dinner and waited patiently for confirmation that I would be spending the duration of the night on a cot, under fluorescent lights with commercial vacuums roaring around me. About 10PM, they lured us all into a line with the promise of a free night in a hotel. I found myself standing just in front of the girl with the McDonald's bag and just behind two friendly but very tired older ladies. I struck up a conversation with the girl while the ladies casually listened. Turns out she was from Poland. She'd spent the summer before working in Yellowstone where she'd met a man and fallen in love. He lived in Utah and she was traveling from her home in Poland with nothing but a wedding dress, a few clothes and a treasured pencil sketch rolled into a mailing tube. She wasn't much younger than me but she struck me as bold and adventurous and VERY interesting. The hotel thing didn't pan out so all four of us got in the next most promising line for a cot. We all scored cots and I suggested we go down to the bar for a few drinks. The ladies declined but offered to watch or things. Agata and I went to the bar. We sat up most of the night talking and drinking beer. We talked about Poland and people and life and boyfriends and friendship. Finally we found our cots and tried to sleep. The next day the airport slowly began sending planes skyward again and we both boarded for SLC. When we arrived, Agata and I ran into each other again in baggage claim and her boyfriend, soon to be husband, offered to drive me to my destination. I declined as I already had a shuttle. In our brief meeting I liked him. I thought they'd be happy together. We exchanged email addresses and they were gone. I've never seen Agata again. We exchange email occasionally and Christmas cards every year. She and her husband are now living in Yellowstone and she has a new baby.

Sometimes people brush you off when you ask them to do something random. Sometimes they don't. When they don't you've met someone interesting. They always have good stories to share and you'll likely think about them for years afterward. This was true of my night at DFW with Agata.

Wednesday evening I clicked on my link to the Habesha Child blog and learned that Elsa's mom was in Austin visiting her sister for a few days. She'd just posted some great pictures of one of my favorite Texas BBQ haunts. Anybody who loves Rudy's Country Store has got to be my kind of person. I decided to write and see if she'd be interested in meeting for coffee. Asked to do something random, she responded enthusiastically and we set up a date for the next morning. Ken did think I was nuts. He's kinda wonderful that way. :) Tolido and I pulled into the parking lot and found two lovely ladies waiting to hug us. :) We went inside, grabbed a table and some coffee and hit if off immediately. We never stopped talking and laughing. Elsa's mom has adopted a little girl, Elsa, from Ethiopia who is about Tolido's age. She has traveled extensively in Ethiopia and was a wealth of information, stories and good advice. We'll definitely be talking again as our travel date gets closer. Tolido, little friendly thing that he is, seemed quite excited to have new friends to impress and found lots of common ground in playfulness. Should I never run into Elsa's mom or Elsa's mom's sister again, I will remember our chance meeting fondly. They were both very interesting, intelligent, warm, animated, and generous with their limited time together. I'm thrilled at having had the chance to meet both. I look forward to a time we'll see each other again and get to meet the darling Princess Elsa.

Victory and Shoe Laces

Sometimes it so easy to identify with silly joy! Tolido will get so frustrated trying something that he's about ready to cry. I'll continue to encourage him and maybe give a little tug on a shirt collar or angle his shoe just a bit more or guide his hand ever so slightly. Sometimes I'll just stay close. Suddenly, it works. IT WORKS! Ah the JOY and PRIDE. It just spills out of him in a cry, a shout, and a giddy giggle with I-DID-IT-ALL-BY-MYSELF victory splashed across his face in wide eyes and a huge grin. Sometimes he even throws in a victory dance. I SO get this.

This morning Tolido decided he would tackle the problem of tying his shoe laces. Okay.... big bites! He gets his shoes on and I tighten up the laces so they are ready for tying. And then (it's so funny to see his interpretation of the things I do) he puts both hands and all ten fingers into the action of aggressively "tickling" the shoelaces. Suddenly he stops with a "tah-dah" flourish and looks at the laces. He seems a bit crestfallen that no bow has materialized. Mama, help! Yes, Tolido. I give him many points for the attempt and the entertainment value I got from it. ;)

Mr Mischief

Last week I was out taking pictures of all the wildflowers blooming in the yard. I was on my knees getting a closeup of a tiny flower with Tolido beside me. Suddenly he says, "Mama!" I don't immediately respond and he again says, "Mama!" I stop and look at him. "What do you want, Tolido?" He points to a fire ant mound close to my feet and says, "No no!" "Okay, Tolido, I see it. Thanks for pointing it out." I go back to taking my picture. The second I do, I hear, "Mama!" "Yes, Tolido?" "No no!" "Okay Tolido, I'll move." I do. He is happy. He lets me take my picture.

A while later Mr. Mischief has decided flowers are boooring and is trying his level best to be a camera hog. Here's his ornery mug:

Spicy Hot!

A few days ago Ken and I were standing around the island in the kitchen snacking on tortilla chips and salsa. In wanders Tolido. He can be a mile away and yet he KNOWS when someone is in the kitchen.

Tolido: Mama?
Me: What do you want, Tolido?
Tolido places his index finger on his chin. (translation: Feed me!)
Me: It's hot, Tolido.
Tolido again places his index finger on his chin.
Me: Okay, T.
I dip a chip in the salsa and give it to him. He eats it and again places his finger on his chin. I give him another. (He likes salsa too.)
Tolido: (eyes starting to water) Wa!!! (translation: Water! Now!)
I give him a big glass of cold water. He sucks it down.
Again, finger on chin.
Me: Do you want salsa with your chip?
Tolido: No!

Today we met Daddy at a Mexican restaurant for lunch. The waitress placed chips on the table. Tolido's eyes lit up. Then she set down a bowl of salsa. Tolido instantly said, "Hot!" How cute. We laughed. "Yes, Tolido, it's hot." :)

Boundaries

I found this in a comment I read on another blog. It is from Amina's Mama. "Sometimes, when a child comes into the picture, you get a better idea of where you need to put boundaries up with people." Truer words were never spoken.

We have a very well behaved child. We like to think it's because we are mindful of his needs - we remember his nap times and his breakfast, lunch and dinner times. We are attentive to his wants and we set strict, easily understood boundaries. We give him choices and allow him to experience the consequences of his choices. We play with him on his terms. We play with him on our terms. We read to him. We include him as a full-fledged member of the team. We look for ways to reward him unexpectedly for just being a good boy versus rewarding specific behaviors. It's fun to surprise him this way and he just glows when we do.

So often we hear, "Tolido is such a good kid and a joy to be around." "Tolido is such a happy child!"

We expect our child to behave. We expect him to ask for the things he wants versus whining for them. We expect him to act like a human child and not a wild animal. He understands these expectations and lives up to them. It wasn't easy. It takes time. It takes consistency. It takes practice. It takes planning and forethought. It probably helps that I work from home and we have many opportunities to reinforce these expectations. It probably helps that we have only one child on whom to concentrate.

One thing we don't allow in the house is screaming. We have plenty of room outside for screaming. When Tolido wants to whine and scream he gets to go outside. He also gets to go outside to think if he decides he is uninterested in cooperating. Some apparently find this evil, isolating and sure to warp him in adulthood. They feel the need to placate him or give in to his demands instead. Fortunately, just about the time they can hardly contain their advice, Toldio knocks on the door, we open it to a now smiling kiddo give him a big hug and send him on his way. We all need to vent and to think things out sometimes. Tolido is no different. Instead of giving in to him, we offer him a choice. It goes like this, "Would you like to let Mommy wipe your hands or would you like to go outside and think about it?" We've been doing this for a while so he now usually presents his grubbies for a wipe. If not, he gets to go outside and think. He usually comes back in with paws held high looking for a wipe. ;)

It used to be maddening to me when people couldn't hold their tongues. Like most people, I'm not a fan of unsolicited advice. We've read lots of books and observed many parenting styles. Our method of raising our son is not arbitrary or inconsistent. It is tailored to fit the personality of our child and to fit our lifestyle. It works for us. We all understand it. And we've finally come up with a comical (to us) response to criticism: "Would you like to stop criticizing or would you like to go outside and think about it?" ;)

Knocking Under the Hood

Just over one month ago I took my Honda Accord into the dealership for recommended service at 204,000 miles. Part of the recommended service is having the timing belt replaced. Done! Picked it up at the end of the day, choked down the $1313.12 charge and was quite happy with the overall experience.

This past weekend there appeared a "knocking" in my engine - hmmmm. Hmmmm. After a brief inspection under the hood, it seemed my crankshaft pulley was wobbling in its rotation. This was a bit alarming to me. When the AC compressor kicked on the wobbling became very alarming. Hmmmm. I eventually put the car up on blocks and crawled underneath. There I found the lower cover shielding the timing and balance belts loose - three bolts behind the crankshaft pulley had backed out of their holes and were hitting the back of the pulley - the cause of the "knocking". Okay, not good - sloppy work - but not the cause of the wobbling crankshaft pulley.

I pulled out my Honda do-it-yourself book and found an exploded diagram under "Timing Belt Replacement." Said diagram shows an adjusting nut that goes through the crankshaft pulley, the lower cover, a gear holding the balancer belt, a gear holding the timing belt and into a shaft on the engine block where there is a keyway into which a key fits holding the whole system rigid and helping to maintain harmonic balance. For the crankshaft pulley to wobble, independent of the engine, the adjustment nut must be loose. If the adjustment nut is loose and considering I have driven the car 1411 miles since it was serviced, it is fair to say that the key way may be distorted such that it will no longer hold rigid. Further, if the key way is distorted and the system is out of harmonic balance, resonance caused by torque of the cylinders and vibration of the crankshaft at certain speeds will place stress on the crankshaft that it was not designed to withstand. This will cause the crankshaft to fail.

I'm beginning to get growly. It is imperative that I have reliable transportation - this is why I own a Honda and why I service it at Honda dealerships. They have certified service people. They go to Honda College. If for no other reason than they work on the same frickin engine day in and day out, this should be a fail safe place to bring a car for routine maintenance. I intend to drive this car for another five years. I intend to rack up another 100,000 miles on its tires. I'm hard enough on it that I don't need any help! Especially when I have to pay $1313.12 for such "help."

So, all wound up, I go into battle mode. I draw up my battle plans. I call in reinforcements in the form of my dad who taught me all I know about engines. I run my ideas past him and incorporate his advice. I'm bullet proof and I'm ready for war!

I call the dealership and ask to speak to a service manager. Mark comes on the line. I (remarkably calm and pleasant given the circumstances) tell Mark what the problem is and what I want him to do about it. I'd like him to send a wrecker to pick up my car. I'd like another car to drive while mine is in the shop. I'd like to review the problem with him in person as soon as my car arrives at the dealership. And I'd like him to pull the engine and remove the pulley, the cover, the timing and balance gears and belts all the way back to the key at the engine block where I'd like him to check the tolerance of the keyway. I'd like him to check for damage and replace any parts that are damaged. I finally take a breath and pause for his response. Mark says, "I'm very sorry for the problem. I will call a wrecker right now. Will you be coming in with the car?" WOW...

When I arrive at the dealership, my car is put up on a lift and Mark and I are joined by three mechanics to evaluate the problem. My assessment is confirmed and they remain focused on expert customer service: I'm sorry. We are responsible. We will solve the problem. It is truly an unexpected pleasure to not have to battle someone to do what they should. What does that say about our world anyway?

Keep your fingers crossed that nothing really bad has happened in the heart of my little car. I really really like my car.... a lot.

My Boys

I've got such great boys. Ken is the most calm, patient and loving of fathers and our little Tolido is kind, playful, attentive and friendly. They are absolutely the lights of my life. I think they are just darling. I'm the luckiest girl in the world. :)

 I LOVE YOU GUYS! XOXOXO

Shopping Lunacy

I went to Dillard's yesterday. I HATE to shop. I had one goal - to find a simple white cotton button down, short-sleeved shirt with a bit of gathering at the top of the sleeve 'cuz I like puffy sleeves. So I walk into the store in the men's section, perfume front and center, lingerie off to my left and shoes to the right. Boy's and girl's stuff behind the escalator ahead of me. I've never been in this store before and (I thought) logically assume ladies' clothing is upstairs. I hop on the escalator. I have this fascinating fear of escalators - likely stemming from the fact that I routinely fall up stairs and estimate the probability of making it to the top of a moving staircase on my feet at about 50%. I catch my breath, take an extra little step as I evaluate the menacing metal teeth at the edge of the leading step rotating in my direction and gather the courage step astride the giant mechanical beast. I arrive unscathed at the top, as usual. I find "Formal Occasion," "Womens" and "Petites." I walk around the entire floor twice as I surely must be missing something... did I mention I hate shopping? I would venture to guess that the most prevalent customer in a mall department store would be a woman who would be shopping in the "Misses" section and I would further guess that, as a merchant, you would want this section to capture the customer the minute said customer walked through your fancy glass doors. What the hell is going on? I suppose, as a merchant you could also think that a woman would be the most patient and expend the most effort searching and might also enjoy the hunt. Wrong woman. I left. I still have no white shirt.

I Wish for Words

I know, once he starts, he'll never stop. But that's not a problem for me. I'd just enjoy communicating with him on another level. The sign language, pointing and grunting are cool and all but I'm done with it. He says a buckets worth of words, usually appropriately, sometimes not. He understands everything! (Which has led me to understand that I need to be very careful when venting...) His single words are becoming more clear in pronunciation - awesome! Just jump off the cliff now and... talk... in sentences! Please! We did get a new word this afternoon - BUBBLE. He was very impressed with himself. Ah.. he's cute. I need to work on my patience.

And the kid loves chores. He puts the placemats and coasters away every night after dinner. He cleans up his playroom before his nap and before bed with only a little fussing. If it's made of cloth and it's on the floor, it'll end up in the laundry room, courtesy of Tolido. He's awesome at cleaning up messes - gets down on the floor after eating and picks up any crumbs and puts them in the trash. If he spills his milk, all I have to do is hand him a towel and he'll practically spit shine the floor. He's a wonderful little helper... :) He helps Daddy haul buckets around the yard and gathers plant trimmings into piles and digs in the flower beds with Mommy. And when he's done playing with his trucks and lawn mowers outside, he lines them all up on the patio... See? So cute.

Our new nightly ritual in "light patrol". Just before bedtime Tolido gets to turn out all the lights downstairs. And, if Mommy's home, believe me, they're ALL on. So he gets to choose which lights we turn out - the laundry room or the living room, the playroom or the hallway - until Daddy is left sitting in the dark. Then we dance around in circles and I sing, "Daddy's in the dark. Daddy's in the dark." This is slightly annoying to Daddy but he endures it with a gentle smirk. ;) We LOVE Daddy.

Potty Training

I am not the most patient of mothers so when I heard that potty training little boys sometimes takes six months to a year I was a less than enthusiastic and determined to find a simple, quick training process. After some research I purchased the book, Toilet Training in Less Than a Day and read it several times. For about one month before beginning training we worked on three things: 1) Tolido learned to put on his own pants. 2) Mommy and Daddy demonstrated using the toilet. From, "Oh, Mommy has to go potty..." to using and then flushing the toilet. And always completing with "Mommy uses the potty just like a Big Boy!" All with an audience of inquisitive little eyes. :) Parenting cracks me up! 3) And lastly, we got a potty chair Tolido could easily empty himself and placed it in the bathroom. At every opportunity, we pointed out Tolido's potty seat to him and taught him to sit on it. When the day of training came, I took a day off work and we followed the directions in the book to the letter. Tolido and I spent the day in the kitchen with the potty seat and all the milk, water, OJ and junk food he wanted. The junk food made him thirsty and the drinks gave him MANY opportunities to practice using his potty seat. The goal of training is to make going to the potty an independent activity for your child. So, when Tolido used the potty chair, he was then instructed to pull up his pants and take his potty seat to the toilet, empty it, flush the toilet and return the potty seat to the potty chair. He mastered the process the first day. Over the next few days, we worked on dealing with distractions - toys, Daddy being home, Mommy working, short outings, etc. Soon we realized that lugging a potty chair around was not going to be convenient and that, though Tolido says few words, we needed him to communicate when he needed to go potty and needed assistance. This has been a slower process but we were encouraged by his ability to stay dry through three-hour naps and through the night. Yesterday - two weeks and five days into training - we were standing around talking with friends when Tolido said, "Daddy?" Daddy said, "Yes, Tolido?" Tolido said, "Poo." Daddy didn't quite hear him but Mommy thought she did and said, "What do you need, Tolido?" Toildo said, "Poo." We were down at the park and a long way from the car and the potty. It was the perfect opportunity to teach him to "pee in the woods" but I wanted to see if he would understand that I was trying my level best to get him to the potty and see if he could hold it. So I scooped him up and went dashing across a ravine and half-crawled up a hillside to the car. We got in the car and zoomed up to the house and I let him out. He went straight to him potty seat and sure enough, he had to pee! :) YAY!! GOOD BOY!! There will be more accidents and that's okay. I'm still going to declare him potty trained in just two weeks and five days. Now to teach him to use the grown up toilet and the all important lesson of peeing in the woods! :)

Why Guatemala?

I was just reading a post on Adoption Memoirs wherein Amber says she has been asked the question, "Why don't you adopt domestically and not internationally?" It's a common question. My answer, "I chose to adopt internationally because my son was in Guatemala." It seems like a quick and easy answer. It's not. An ancient Chinese proverb illustrates the belief behind my answer. "An invisible red thread connects us to those we are destined to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break." There was only one child in all of the world my husband and I were meant to adopt in the winter of 2007. He was in Guatemala City. "But.." you say. But nothing.