tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38971370816407402692024-03-13T10:03:28.301-07:00Linguine or Lo Mein?Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.comBlogger189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-2682049221507582352015-12-13T18:30:00.001-08:002015-12-13T18:33:40.692-08:00Love and Affection Frannie's arms feel good around my neck.<br />
<br />
It hardly sounds like something worthy of a blog post, but when you have waited nearly an entire year to experience that feeling, it is.<br />
<br />
I have always wanted this blog to be an honest place to talk. I try to tell about the times that are hard and the times that are amazing. I hope that someone in a hotel room in China with an inconsolable child does some googling and comes up with my blog entries about how hard China was with Emmie. I hope that a mom just starting to give her picky 2 year old Exjade comes across my post about putting it in yogurt. And I also hope that someone who has been home for 9 months with a child who accepts little affection finds this post and finds comfort.<br />
<br />
Frannie has been the toughest nut to crack when it comes to giving and receiving affection. For months she's been happy, fun, comfortable and settled in. But something was seriously lacking in the affection department. When I picked her up and held her, she didn't hold me back. She'd just flop over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Strapping her into her carseat I'd lean over to kiss her chubby cheek, and she'd turn her face as quickly as possible. If I asked to kiss her, she'd lean over and give me the top of her head--at best. Night after night we'd tuck her in and go to kiss or hug her and she'd turn away. Patrick would say, "That baby doesn't care one bit if we kiss or hug her." And it was true. <br />
<br />
I've read on lots of blogs where adoptive moms said that they felt more like a babysitter than mother to their newly adopted and unaffectionate kids. I wouldn't go that far...the babysitter wouldn't lay and bed and dream of the day that the baby would feel affection towards them. A babysitter wouldn't love a baby so much that it hurt. But I did. My heart would hurt when I thought about how badly I wanted her to demonstrate affection towards me. But I'm an adoptive parent. I'm patient, compassionate, understanding of my childrens' journey, and I know it's not about me. Right? No, absolutely wrong. I'm imperfect, and as the months wore on, it really started to bother me. I remember talking to another mom about how hard the days can sometimes be with toddlers, and she said, "But at the end of the day when they curl up on your lap and hug you and kiss you it all melts away." I felt heartbroken, because I didn't have that. Frannie never kissed me or hugged me or ran into my arms. <br />
<br />
Do not get me wrong. She acted happy as could be. Happier and happier as the months went by. Smiling, relaxed, and you could tell she felt safe. Eating, giggling, and playing with all of us. So that was wonderful and indicated to us that she was becoming more attached. So we waited. But I felt bad for her...she was missing out on all of those wonderful warm feelings that rush through your body when someone you love kisses you or hugs you. All of those feelings we share with our other daughters. And I wanted her to share that, too.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Other people didn't help the situation. Despite my best efforts to educate people for the third time about how things should go while we worked on our attachment, people would disregard me...picking her up, hugging her, kissing her. And, shockingly enough, she'd kiss them back! The baby who would turn her head away from her mother and father would kiss a stranger. I had read about this and now I was living it and I didn't like it one bit. To make it worse, people would say, "Well, look at that! You said she's not affectionate! Look at her kissing me! La-di-da!" I'd just look at them, wondering if that was a tone of triumph in their voice, and not know if I should be furious or cry. At some point, I lost my fight. I didn't even try anymore to ask people to hold back on their affection towards her until she could accept mine. I let them bask in the glory of her indiscriminate affection, and tried to focus my efforts on how to be the best, most patient mother I could be.<br />
<br />
Night after night I'd kiss her turned cheek and then lay awake wondering if it was adoption related. I try very hard not to make everything into an "adoption issue", but I couldn't help but wonder if she was in some way holding a grudge (so to speak) against us. Did she not feel affectionate towards us because she knew we took her away from everything she knew? Or did she shy away from me because I was a poor replacement for her favorite caretakers in China, who were all male? After months she must have been used to my eyes, the way I smell, my hair, my voice and my touch, right? So how was it that we could play together and be happy together but she wouldn't hug me back? Or why did she call for me to protect her and hold her at the hospital, but she wouldn't let me kiss her goodnight? <br />
<br />
When I stopped stressing about it being an adoption issue, I came up with a few other ideas why her affection came so slowly. One is that it's just the way she is. She's just not a kissy or huggy person--there are plenty of people like that. I haven't personally seen it a lot in toddlers, but I know it happens. Another is that there was a huge buffer between her and I: her sisters. When we adopted Emmie and Rosie, I had lots and lots of alone time with each of them. But with Frannie, since the day she came home there has always been at least one sister here. And, I was guilty of not carving out any designated "Frannie/Mama" time to work on strenghtening our bond. In our super busy household it's hard to carve out designated time for anything, but this was a mistake.<br />
<br />
In September, Emmie went to kindergarten and Rosie started preschool. I remember remarking to my mother that Frannie was going to absolutely hate being stuck with just me all day. My mother said, "No. She's going to LOVE it. You'll see." I shook my head in disbelief, but as September turned into October, not only were the leaves changing, but so was Frannie. She was smiling and laughing even more. She wanted to hang around me as much as possible. If I was at the computer she would come over and lay her little head on my lap and cuddle me. I remember standing at the sink one night and for a minute I thought we got a puppy...but it was little Frannie curling herself around my legs and hugging them. <br />
<br />
As the days went on, everything I had dreamed about started to happen. If I kissed her head out of habit, she'd say, "No, wips!" [lips] I'd give her a big hug and she'd say, "I wuv you" without being prompted. If I tucked her in and got distracted and forgot to kiss her, she'd yell, "Mama! KSSSS!" And then shortly before Thanksgiving I remember taking her out of the car and carrying her across the Stop and Shop parking lot and that was the first time I remember her holding me back when I held her. She put her chubby, warm, little arms tightly around my neck. She was no longer that sack of potatoes. She was more like a little koala bear, holding on to me and smiling while she nuzzled my neck. I was shocked. And it felt so good.<br />
<br />
So whatever it was, it's better. So much better. It took the better part of a year, though, and it wasn't easy. Maybe she just needed more time. Maybe she needed to be with me one-on-one to get more comfortable. Maybe it was absolutely nothing and I was just stressing over it because I was worried it was an adoption related attachment thing. And maybe--no, definitely--I was too impatient because it didn't take nearly as long with Emmie and Rosie and I was [wrongly] comparing the 3 different situations. <br />
<br />
If you find yourself in the same situation, try to take a deep breath and remember that attachment and love and affection take time and that every child is different. And as we come up on our one-year anniversary with Frannie, I wish I had been more patient, but you can't really blame me for wanting to love on this sweet little baby who I adore so much.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDJed7AjDQmd1n0yctqILHJccU28LmhHTA1CV8f5px29BpaxqIhdiMVwaaasOM8XRoBvdpKfPolD0BohniF_NSaDhEfZfoVDHoFNQ-X1S-EFlTBouXPHHS-ksRZN6XbZ2cx9GKHj59CE/s1600/IMG_4100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDJed7AjDQmd1n0yctqILHJccU28LmhHTA1CV8f5px29BpaxqIhdiMVwaaasOM8XRoBvdpKfPolD0BohniF_NSaDhEfZfoVDHoFNQ-X1S-EFlTBouXPHHS-ksRZN6XbZ2cx9GKHj59CE/s320/IMG_4100.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So in love with her.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-54133522470890848522015-11-26T20:31:00.000-08:002015-12-01T20:33:56.636-08:00Thankful x3When I look at my life, I know that I have so much to be thankful for. Yes, of course I am thankful for all of that stuff that everyone is thankful for...health, a warm house, food to eat, and all of that.<br />
<br />
But what I am most thankful for is sitting right here with me. Warm, soft, cuddly as can be. My three girls. They have made my life into what it is today. I am thankful for every kiss, every tear, every giggle and every tantrum. Because, without them, there would be a giant hole in my heart (and my life!) that nothing else could ever fill. <br />
<br />
For me, Thanksgiving isn't really any different than any other day. Because each and every day I quietly say thank you a thousand times for these girls who have brought so much meaning to my life. I am simply thankful for being their Mama.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsK5IRsGjLhS4RCJgQFZL7_hpt-HceN8asgCFRLM5HGl58LsX5yUOu_08Wuk3fLpDE8F1JZket7f-POxdBRY7Kixkkd3LiFU0uOXRGNVrq_nBEhKGTtRcLI6PPedMmhKSj0_DHvWLTDuk/s1600/IMG_4155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsK5IRsGjLhS4RCJgQFZL7_hpt-HceN8asgCFRLM5HGl58LsX5yUOu_08Wuk3fLpDE8F1JZket7f-POxdBRY7Kixkkd3LiFU0uOXRGNVrq_nBEhKGTtRcLI6PPedMmhKSj0_DHvWLTDuk/s320/IMG_4155.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love my pile of little girls watching Santa's arrival at the Macy's parade.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7ALkJQ2tWM6YtlYh5YttkuBxBIabczhk9F_kgHKbnYzlAnCPgqTRl4zNFSMBG6PvmBB9cA6QdoVbLLImdi92UCiPzSYrET2DpOtWfTgz6-6Vgcezi8dvL7622ahPA5oAXkV4X099ccE/s1600/IMG_4179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7ALkJQ2tWM6YtlYh5YttkuBxBIabczhk9F_kgHKbnYzlAnCPgqTRl4zNFSMBG6PvmBB9cA6QdoVbLLImdi92UCiPzSYrET2DpOtWfTgz6-6Vgcezi8dvL7622ahPA5oAXkV4X099ccE/s320/IMG_4179.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of my favorite moments are cooking<br />with my daughters.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKoE_6xIzcFWq41hiIapdXwNoCxZKcXpMF0v1K9EbBuFXHWwCxWTpOa_F63Ag4onbBaVYkJeGzfpXjfzYFCIwu7bPtKQHoaVW6UNjHOirrufZysTtnsk6lqs_FvoGAt2rNVSW5rslzL0A/s1600/IMG_4193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKoE_6xIzcFWq41hiIapdXwNoCxZKcXpMF0v1K9EbBuFXHWwCxWTpOa_F63Ag4onbBaVYkJeGzfpXjfzYFCIwu7bPtKQHoaVW6UNjHOirrufZysTtnsk6lqs_FvoGAt2rNVSW5rslzL0A/s320/IMG_4193.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putting a little muscle in it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht6qFUBlabJwXlEqkY6G-Xs2bHIMiXRhbxAnpQyjKiX1aYlH1L9GJsC-vbz_2AkGRxmtTGICzugJVj8WlFvwkGztYFxZ-pkXsaqc_myny5R3JfqYLT9LwxN0_FzLPflw1HLJxteD_VIRA/s1600/IMG_4201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht6qFUBlabJwXlEqkY6G-Xs2bHIMiXRhbxAnpQyjKiX1aYlH1L9GJsC-vbz_2AkGRxmtTGICzugJVj8WlFvwkGztYFxZ-pkXsaqc_myny5R3JfqYLT9LwxN0_FzLPflw1HLJxteD_VIRA/s320/IMG_4201.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our annual Pinterest moment.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzG4voFfKwtdEnTg23BP732VKvdcWuEBTDgdHq2HTx27UQ8KmG0OsPdo6WSyQgstmhyphenhyphenAuVA51_89r5F2emSmawDtloI0ODwynGm_frMmtsUiB8fN3xha1Y7LpQD0On5VpR8wiiNsNNCrY/s1600/IMG_4204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzG4voFfKwtdEnTg23BP732VKvdcWuEBTDgdHq2HTx27UQ8KmG0OsPdo6WSyQgstmhyphenhyphenAuVA51_89r5F2emSmawDtloI0ODwynGm_frMmtsUiB8fN3xha1Y7LpQD0On5VpR8wiiNsNNCrY/s320/IMG_4204.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As thankful as I am, I could never be thankful<br />enough for the joy that these girls have brought to<br />our lives.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMfo2BoqwPYAZf72DnjVv4t9-FNtS597mFuh1rVLR4FRhSeE_pScae3K3uPoosxi9ewtTZQDVWUWpENrZbk9dQr-IbMvB49bzxtMqI04HGqKCOyBvyLfy08B0zyfHWgSpm3M2Jo_aL49c/s1600/IMG_4225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMfo2BoqwPYAZf72DnjVv4t9-FNtS597mFuh1rVLR4FRhSeE_pScae3K3uPoosxi9ewtTZQDVWUWpENrZbk9dQr-IbMvB49bzxtMqI04HGqKCOyBvyLfy08B0zyfHWgSpm3M2Jo_aL49c/s320/IMG_4225.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frannie's first Thanksgiving!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5AH09flabCYQBOD44s1mfQwif8zA5jnklXKIjeKR67Btg0kz0WIJFrgImKLhHPjLyGbCxIMSum_dfEte_oxEznHbRhZFY-uslN37Ecart2Vk9mwOtLMoMVX3C6IjBkfYqinupFc65Qg/s1600/IMG_4262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5AH09flabCYQBOD44s1mfQwif8zA5jnklXKIjeKR67Btg0kz0WIJFrgImKLhHPjLyGbCxIMSum_dfEte_oxEznHbRhZFY-uslN37Ecart2Vk9mwOtLMoMVX3C6IjBkfYqinupFc65Qg/s320/IMG_4262.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a good thing Nana found a three-legged turkey!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMJo8LvQBmHoI3AwiPH3ezzNVgTptqI7XyT6TkK0ED37SSH-ZuxjeeHQogsrcSGkVb3NdaldYHyG9-wRcCL6UA0KueLDlR2ByL70q7nwLLuiO_Hr5RswoNIVaZICtmOGeJbOSWdn0hIU/s1600/IMG_4267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMJo8LvQBmHoI3AwiPH3ezzNVgTptqI7XyT6TkK0ED37SSH-ZuxjeeHQogsrcSGkVb3NdaldYHyG9-wRcCL6UA0KueLDlR2ByL70q7nwLLuiO_Hr5RswoNIVaZICtmOGeJbOSWdn0hIU/s320/IMG_4267.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frannie looks like she's leading some sort of revolt. Maybe she<br />was worried her turkey leg wasn't big enough?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGSnumjM7t_8e3RWUzbIxKxF9ayGhWfsMzfuz3oqoeXwCceiA5d8bqFHQ9os_6XGqWVLk0ZiraeKg3FDC_p-taGF0AfDrOwshZT556GzoRL-Pq9nxzil1lvZ8xbh5W3QY04KjIyyEdCHI/s1600/IMG_4273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGSnumjM7t_8e3RWUzbIxKxF9ayGhWfsMzfuz3oqoeXwCceiA5d8bqFHQ9os_6XGqWVLk0ZiraeKg3FDC_p-taGF0AfDrOwshZT556GzoRL-Pq9nxzil1lvZ8xbh5W3QY04KjIyyEdCHI/s320/IMG_4273.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our third daughter finally gets to wear this bib!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-23303772802890092342015-09-15T19:35:00.000-07:002015-09-20T10:48:05.227-07:00Bye, Mama!So, we made it. Or, I made it. I knew she was going to be fine. After what seemed like the most hectic morning of my life, I dropped Emmie off for her first day of kindergarten.<br />
<br />
Even though she had a very tough time falling asleep last night, Emmie still bounched out of bed excited for her first day. I couldn't sleep either, so I this morning I felt like I had one too many glasses of wine last night. Which, in retrospect, might have been a better idea than staying up 'till all hours and cutting vegetables into flowers.<br />
<br />
Drop off was buzzing with excited parents and kids. We were handed a poem, but warned that if we read it we would cry. The school secretary was strolling through the crowd with a box of Kleenex. It was all sort of surreal. Emmie had her little entourage of Rosie and Frannie there to see her off. And, then of course, me. I was trying to stay calm watching Emmie while keeping the younger two from beating each other up in front of their future principal. At the same time I was unsuccessfully trying to snap pictures in this huge throng of people. As the final lineup began to walk into K2, I decided it might be better to record some video. <br />
<br />
The kids started to move in line and walk into school for the first time ever. In a moment that couldn't have been more perfect to a parents' heart if it had been scripted, Emmie turned around, smiled a huge smile, waved, and said, "Bye, Mama!" I was looking at her, and not noticing all the chaos and waving and tears and parents calling names around me. I also didn't notice that in my hand-trembling nervousness, I had not actually hit the record button on my phone.<br />
<br />
Her little owl backpack went through the doorway and out of sight. It was then that I looked down at my phone and realized that I hadn't recorded anything at all. I stood tapping the screen wildly, trying to conjure something that wasn't there. That's when I needed the secretary with the roving box of tissues.<br />
<br />
How incompetent could I be? How would I relive that perfect moment without having it on my phone stored with so many less important ones? The one with Rosie's "raising the roof" dance in the back seat of my car. The one with Frannie chewing on her fingers until she chokes. The one where Emmie is snorkeling and all you can see is the back of her. But then I did. I relived it over and over again. As we sat through the parent welcome coffee, the principal's voice faded in and out while I kept picturing it. Emmie is so independent and confident that I thought I might not even get a glance from her as she left me. But she did. Smiling and happy and waving and saying goodbye to me. It was like she knew I needed that.<br />
<br />
In some way, I wonder if it's better. Better that this moment between her and me will always be just that. A moment between her and I. Like a zillion other moments that just happen between a parent and their child. Not documented, not shared on Facebook, not on YouTube or a blog. Just something special that I will never forget. And after a pep talk from my own mother, I got an email from Patrick saying one of the most useful things he's ever said: <span style="font-family: inherit;">"<span style="background-color: white;">The important thing is that you were there for her, at her big moment. She won't remember the details, but I'm sure that you will, forever." And he's absolutely right.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Emmie had a wonderful, exciting, perfect first day of school. She loved every minute of it. And </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">it ended just as I dreamed it would. And this time, I hit the right button.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxOdcObUFmKHj-bNI0qCHkDaRqLDbn_CQLuSYN3amKwr1n37uFhY1VuRHX5wXLrU6wdbyD4HxJuUPZoUO2eLQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-24135475346499402582015-09-14T21:43:00.001-07:002015-09-14T21:43:17.930-07:00School DaysIt's midnight and I'm standing here over a pile of little flower-shaped cucumbers and it's hitting me. My first baby is really starting school tomorrow. Real school. A school with a cafeteria and a gym and big kids. Sure, she went to pre-K last year, but she was basically in one little space and the pre-K students WERE the big kids. This feels so different.<br />
<br />
It's hard to believe that this little girl who I traveled to the other side of the world for, who I dreamed about forever, is going to school. I'm going to drop her off, and trust her with people who are nearly strangers. And, it doesn't even really matter how our kids come to us...through adoption or biology or anything in between. From years of planning and contemplation or one quick moment of indiscretion. From as far away as China or as close as our own womb. No matter what, they are the most important things in our lives and it is so hard and scary and sometimes a little sad to watch them grow up.<br />
<br />
But it's also easy and uplifting and happy. Easy because they grow up anyways! No matter what you do or how much you want them to stay little, they WILL GROW UP. And, truthfully, I've always said that I'm not one to wish that my kids would stay little forever. Sure, I'll miss all of the moments of their baby and toddler and pre-school days, but I want to embrace every new stage that we enter. This is a new stage that is so full of opportunities and growth and excitement, and I don't want tears in my eyes to make me miss a single moment.<br />
<br />
Emmie's excitement about school is contagious. For weeks she's told everyone from the cashier at Market Basket to every neighbor walking by our house that she would be going to kindergarten soon. When I tucked her in tonight, she was absolutely beaming at the thought that her first day of school was finally arriving. An hour later she got out of bed and came down to the kitchen and said, "When is it going to be morning?!" She's never done that before. She's more excited than Christmas Eve. <br />
<br />
As our first daughter, Emmie's the one who started us on this chapter of our lives. Down the path of parenthood. And as we watch her grow...as we watch all of our kids grow...it really reminds us of what is important in life. I said to Patrick the other day as we were talking about school starting, "You know, it's like that stupid, sappy song that I hate says...'the children are our future'. But seriously, they <i>are</i>!" It's like it's dawning on me even more now. We are shaping these little people through our family and our community to be the future. And that is big. Bigger than anything else <i>I've</i> ever done, anyways. And as I sit with nervous new kindergarten parents in orientation, or wander around Target with 100 other families with their school supply lists, or crowd into the shoe department looking for new sneakers for school, I feel like I am really a part of something important and special. Probably not something I thought more than a minute about before we were blessed with our three girls. But now I know it's the greatest thing I've ever done with my life.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhituJY27a48iwjo4bzywqSoMLaxOHCD9UEvMCqAglM6B1avDZ7x6an9V49QxyuXVut0K9WFRmwjlAujc6w_GVc6srrDrZ2Ruh48RGlAuEPnya1NMbIrmt5SdK_loQAdIxg8hkDiVCYfl0/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhituJY27a48iwjo4bzywqSoMLaxOHCD9UEvMCqAglM6B1avDZ7x6an9V49QxyuXVut0K9WFRmwjlAujc6w_GVc6srrDrZ2Ruh48RGlAuEPnya1NMbIrmt5SdK_loQAdIxg8hkDiVCYfl0/s320/IMG_3691.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last week all ready for kindergarten orientation day!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, on this eve of the first day of kindergarten, I'm feeling a little wistful. But, like Emmie, I can't wait for the morning to be here so I can braid her beautiful hair, put her in her new dress, and send her off with her little flower-shaped cucumbers and a hand-written heart-shaped note tucked into her lunch box telling her how proud I am of her and how much I love her. Then, rather than spending the day feeling sad that my little girl is growing up, I'll rejoice and be thankful that I am the lucky mom who gets to be a part of it, and who's arms she'll run into when the day is done.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQM6ywohqh7NjtTVWFN7Dj8HkUHKXpQeV7P_m0ZlTB742FKDQqlKWSdXde_ZonCITOy5Fzt51nE-KYtIKmWOksTHIgMchlQ-eqXK7CuadNsJoYRmR-HHvqTY-YO13EtOgQ66j5vh3o9TE/s1600/IMG_2511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQM6ywohqh7NjtTVWFN7Dj8HkUHKXpQeV7P_m0ZlTB742FKDQqlKWSdXde_ZonCITOy5Fzt51nE-KYtIKmWOksTHIgMchlQ-eqXK7CuadNsJoYRmR-HHvqTY-YO13EtOgQ66j5vh3o9TE/" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-24861366103627859712015-08-26T22:21:00.000-07:002015-08-26T22:21:47.566-07:00A First SecondHappy Birthday to our dear little Frannie!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DuvCD_Y5sqdYdoH4AjWGsSJ4CHRCpPSKmG9sGoMSEv35oyQghPSShPGA60Q6jPYTuLaDETNUY7cdN0FvGdcLUvm6fP6_T-bURwUvvCyptO1bEvPhVK9giICKquAOzhrhu-WdvGmtioI/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DuvCD_Y5sqdYdoH4AjWGsSJ4CHRCpPSKmG9sGoMSEv35oyQghPSShPGA60Q6jPYTuLaDETNUY7cdN0FvGdcLUvm6fP6_T-bURwUvvCyptO1bEvPhVK9giICKquAOzhrhu-WdvGmtioI/s320/IMG_2706_edited.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Francesca is our third child, but this is the first Second Birthday we have celebrated with any of our children. Sure, we celebrated when Emmie and Rosie turned two, but they were still in China. We were half a world away, brokenhearted, and wishing we could blow out their candles with them. I remember singing happy birthday through tears. But this is the first 2nd birthday we have been able to celebrate as a family. In person. Not missing the person being celebrated. It actually feels a little weird. Adoption is funny like that.<br />
<br />
To say that we are loving having Frannie in our family is such an understatement. As much as we loved adopting Emmie and Rosie at the age of two, it has been really fun for us to have a baby. We have all watched in wide-eyed wonderment at the sometimes adorable, sometimes gross things babies do. Before Frannie, I thought all kids started at the age of two. It's been so fun to experience her babyish-ness. Wobbly walking, teething, babbling, and all of that baby stuff that we missed with our first two daughters...Frannie has shared all of that with us.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAAESi3bXEh-g33LE-ycDfYsR5_qy5g-jlrSn969XpSr5uBOR7W0pGn_iq4WdZbaqd4Kb_gPXbIZFDMP0mwKzgnlNWYWjUFwoxQjSPxs1obKhXgS67jeeFNSrop-D4cbst0qbfE7nmgok/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAAESi3bXEh-g33LE-ycDfYsR5_qy5g-jlrSn969XpSr5uBOR7W0pGn_iq4WdZbaqd4Kb_gPXbIZFDMP0mwKzgnlNWYWjUFwoxQjSPxs1obKhXgS67jeeFNSrop-D4cbst0qbfE7nmgok/" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what Curious George did to get handcuffed here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH95LruWGjjfQ93dUcq7SXX5RAKc96R4yCMb6vzBkB4xLzjUqfMT9VMzlg9wQTWm4Cvp8q6xQwrhZ_QY4w0mPNPtBFawcpZm_LWKT8OUHQVqU1lf6F-brQEjP_Tbb9G_OGf1dr76MbCy0/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH95LruWGjjfQ93dUcq7SXX5RAKc96R4yCMb6vzBkB4xLzjUqfMT9VMzlg9wQTWm4Cvp8q6xQwrhZ_QY4w0mPNPtBFawcpZm_LWKT8OUHQVqU1lf6F-brQEjP_Tbb9G_OGf1dr76MbCy0/" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Maybe they don't see me sneaking this pepperoni<br />
that I'm supposed to be putting on the pizza."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Frannie is bright and continues to imitate everything her sisters do...good or bad! She is gaining lots of words and phrases, and understands nearly everything we say to her. Her eating hasn't slowed down a bit. She loves to eat and her chubby little thighs show it. (She's shorter than Rosie, but she weighs more!) She likes to play dress-up and "restaurant". At the start of the summer she was afraid of the sprinkler but now she giggles the loudest when we go to the spray park. She loves the beach but is still a little nervous of the big ocean. She enjoys many rides at the amusement park...it's funny how she likes spinning fast in the teacups, but is skittish when it comes to the carousel. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC_9SUZ96CIXIcKaNVyQe0fOZZNi071sVYR8mUDnpSU_H6o5xOh7p_qIyFyMkh7k23-4j7vzyDqac9TwwU_y4XJZcbK02FaLiGOnCdaSPVYvU7UVJtAjLX0zvYjS0I3CLDdgIaZ1BJI4/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC_9SUZ96CIXIcKaNVyQe0fOZZNi071sVYR8mUDnpSU_H6o5xOh7p_qIyFyMkh7k23-4j7vzyDqac9TwwU_y4XJZcbK02FaLiGOnCdaSPVYvU7UVJtAjLX0zvYjS0I3CLDdgIaZ1BJI4/" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picking blueberries, or eating blueberries?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vFoOmf-JE2WldGrPinlYVvjjhHQSXWGT-38EF3Kv_5VUM-DBVXxh9Ddov4xeEbsB3oUmfYp3M7Yy5EA3vqhdLtWw83WWTGkliDCE58YDm8iQtw0iLcmCeK9guwx0U6vTi-BDQiOcrgc/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vFoOmf-JE2WldGrPinlYVvjjhHQSXWGT-38EF3Kv_5VUM-DBVXxh9Ddov4xeEbsB3oUmfYp3M7Yy5EA3vqhdLtWw83WWTGkliDCE58YDm8iQtw0iLcmCeK9guwx0U6vTi-BDQiOcrgc/s320/IMG_2924.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxrzMwQffGF2zYxf9wQ_JvE73T7kxedlU0nZ8S90SDRqvvhCq0FEmhkxJkSpL18KKkx5Ip_e1lLRsZ0OEE1h_d3l7ynTafilMjLngwBW2hB8B4QZYyhTKYdlFdkp2gvO_ncBYqYiFufo/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxrzMwQffGF2zYxf9wQ_JvE73T7kxedlU0nZ8S90SDRqvvhCq0FEmhkxJkSpL18KKkx5Ip_e1lLRsZ0OEE1h_d3l7ynTafilMjLngwBW2hB8B4QZYyhTKYdlFdkp2gvO_ncBYqYiFufo/" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
While she seems happy and comfortable with her family, she is still pretty...stingy, shall we say, with the affection. She comes to us if she is hurt, she comes to us for help, she comes to us for food, she comes to us to play, but she is still very reserved with her affection, and with her ability to accept affection. Sometimes my caress is met with her hand pushing mine away. Sometimes when we lean in to kiss her, she just turns her head. "So, that thing I said about Frannie feeling affectionate towards us by Labor Day? Let's go with New Year's. Day, not Eve. New Year's Day. Give it until then," Patrick said after he was rejected yet again when it was time for the goodnight kiss. Maybe she needs more time, maybe she's just not an affectionate kid. I'd be lying if I didn't say that it's hard when you have a little bundle of cuddly joy that you want to be smothering with love constantly, but we're being patient and showing her love in every way we can.<br />
<br />
Affectionate or not, Frannie is such a fun little member of our family. She is beyond adorable, funny, playful, and smart. She looks up to her big sisters, and of course they are wonderful role models for her. (OK, most of the time they are.) We are so lucky to be her family, and we feel extra blessed to be able to spend her second birthday with her. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEhqDNEhCuVeZRh0mxQKZJOrfbtnNPVkXbRDxEZ_z9ifAqONKUbJ7HTGab-gImKjy5LMnJsPE7ldERv7ZRskfbAboDPZ6WR4i13iDoo7Kg60GULiOfkU_gpirW5Iu15hf5tEtOlqWxdk/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEhqDNEhCuVeZRh0mxQKZJOrfbtnNPVkXbRDxEZ_z9ifAqONKUbJ7HTGab-gImKjy5LMnJsPE7ldERv7ZRskfbAboDPZ6WR4i13iDoo7Kg60GULiOfkU_gpirW5Iu15hf5tEtOlqWxdk/s320/IMG_2422.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4xLRbNYPsH3VpG4xoaneDfYWtolXgmuNiyc3PIBtVUVzr_87b1ZMoKZIj2ljZhrHWV4C3MkbemWfEzVdh6sI3p10l_4KGvD103xP0C1RMdf4MiFWUGVy-uA7UEihppaYvLGw_aYGGKW8/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4xLRbNYPsH3VpG4xoaneDfYWtolXgmuNiyc3PIBtVUVzr_87b1ZMoKZIj2ljZhrHWV4C3MkbemWfEzVdh6sI3p10l_4KGvD103xP0C1RMdf4MiFWUGVy-uA7UEihppaYvLGw_aYGGKW8/s320/IMG_2716.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
So, Happy Birthday, to our sweet little Frannie. It has been so wonderful sharing these past 8 months together, and we can't wait to grow even closer as a family with you! We know this is all still so new to you, and we thank you a million times for opening up your heart to us and letting us have the honor of loving you and being your parents. We love you a million times!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlngl6tiEn_NUWirbiLxZQGR8gS1MABBi5MlnNvnmatdShY0rXTDdgxcVdYlYZRgZmh4gSDe5VgJY72nRpUssa3cepWOq6XfTxeHJ_wm_p7-akcUqBLlaGzyrtiKauxfr-AiSeopcSirE/s1600/IMG_1954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlngl6tiEn_NUWirbiLxZQGR8gS1MABBi5MlnNvnmatdShY0rXTDdgxcVdYlYZRgZmh4gSDe5VgJY72nRpUssa3cepWOq6XfTxeHJ_wm_p7-akcUqBLlaGzyrtiKauxfr-AiSeopcSirE/" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-63213529719478139002015-07-09T22:37:00.000-07:002015-07-10T06:47:58.772-07:00A Little Flower for your FaceAll three girls get transfused on the same day. It makes for an utterly insane day, but then it's over and we go back to being just regular for 3 weeks before we do it all over again. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVoOjYs0WEcrkzr6MvzyyY-cZzyR5FUPCmWR8cfJsgZfi3DKMopvZW-Xba9vf_FUccRFFaj4Q_CFpDQsRlkSpZWXscwIomkdUH0hhK8QM-ENQIAXSVYn_opUGA7SF_hw69bH56XfBE3Q/s1600/IMG_1565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVoOjYs0WEcrkzr6MvzyyY-cZzyR5FUPCmWR8cfJsgZfi3DKMopvZW-Xba9vf_FUccRFFaj4Q_CFpDQsRlkSpZWXscwIomkdUH0hhK8QM-ENQIAXSVYn_opUGA7SF_hw69bH56XfBE3Q/s320/IMG_1565.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So many IV poles!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Getting a transfusion is sort of like taking any medicine. The "dose" you get is based on certain criteria. For packed red cells, the "dose" is based on your weight and current hemoglobin level. As a result, the girls all get different amounts of blood every time we go. Add to that the fact that Emmie does her transfusion as a "turnaround" (meaning that she has her type/screen done the same day as her transfusion) and the other two girls have their labs drawn a day or two before, it means that everyone starts and finishes at a different time. Emmie is almost always the longest.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCHznx-kfhe_FiGUGBa_f9BYi6XcYA6YQ0d8GjRRKfU2AuSVx5SIUpnUFqu5NRhcyQYDFkLyLmV6WmOkamA5MQMsw9yqOlyMr8WE8bDnWkF2MEwABH24tALEpcT_DodVJCtJfhKLb9Wc/s1600/IMG_1556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCHznx-kfhe_FiGUGBa_f9BYi6XcYA6YQ0d8GjRRKfU2AuSVx5SIUpnUFqu5NRhcyQYDFkLyLmV6WmOkamA5MQMsw9yqOlyMr8WE8bDnWkF2MEwABH24tALEpcT_DodVJCtJfhKLb9Wc/s320/IMG_1556.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some arts and crafts in our room to pass the time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIeq7lSG29M2o7mVzAe62uBs_tGO1fqePy1VU7aG1FLHbzY1mRxa-fOUBqaG5bGGKWnKng36094crLH-ph2CrWEXCYL83baOdf93BDKpS81vn2z8P8vwO6LkKISuYwud4amgv4vIIN0E/s1600/IMG_1561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIeq7lSG29M2o7mVzAe62uBs_tGO1fqePy1VU7aG1FLHbzY1mRxa-fOUBqaG5bGGKWnKng36094crLH-ph2CrWEXCYL83baOdf93BDKpS81vn2z8P8vwO6LkKISuYwud4amgv4vIIN0E/s320/IMG_1561.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just hanging out.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yesterday, Rosie finished her transfusion first. Her hemoglobin was the highest, she weighs the least, and her line was in first, all resulting in a first place ribbon at the finish line. At each transfusion, our dear Child Life specialist steps in for a few minutes so I can take a walk to pee and get some coffee, something every hospital mama will tell you is a luxury. Since Rosie was done with her blood, she asked to come with me. She wrapped her warm and pinked-up body around mine and we headed for some caffeine.<br />
<br />
On the way back from the coffee shop, I remembered that The Hole in the Wall Gang was holding a little in-hospital camp in the entertainment center. I wasn't sure if it was right or wrong to stop by there. One kid was done getting her new blood, but the other two were upstairs still tethered to IV poles for at least another hour. Should I refuse Rosie some light-hearted fun because of the other two, or let her enjoy the fact that she was free from the Infusion Unit? As Patrick said this weekend, there is no handbook on parenting, and if there was, it would likely suck. So we stopped in.<br />
<br />
It was set up like a real little camp. Activities and smiles were everywhere, in a place where there are not always so many smiles. Since we were on borrowed time while the Child Life Specialist sat with Emmie and Frannie upstairs, I steered Rosie to a quick activity--face painting. The minute I did it, I felt a pit in my stomach, knowing that this was one of Emmie's absolute favorite things to do at fairs and the like. Rosie beamed from ear to ear as a camp counselor painted a pretty pink butterfly on her little pink cheek. A happy look in the mirror at the finished product and we were on our way back up to Emmie and Frannie. <br />
<br />
The minute we walked into our treatment room, I knew I had made a mistake. Or did I? Yes, I did. I think. Oh, I didn't know, but I knew for sure that I felt miserable. "I thought you were just going to get coffee like usual," Emmie said with big, jealous tears in her eyes as she looked at the pink butterfly on Rosie's cheek. I failed. Again. I failed. It was as if I took a crappy day for Emmie and made it crappier. But I also took a crappy day for Rosie and made it better, didn't I? But at what cost? Sometimes, as mom, you just never feel like you can make a good decision. At least little Frannie is still too young to care much, so I wasn't ruining her day, too. I could take some peace in that, right?<br />
<br />
Quickly I set down the coffee I wished I had never gone to get, and the Child Life Specialist slipped out of the room. I got out the nail polish I brought with me and started right in on pedicures for the girls...Emmie first, and she would get a manicure, too, since she did not have a butterfly on her cheek. Even with the special princess treatment, I could tell how sad she was. "When is that camp going to end?" she asked. I watched the blood drip, drip, drip slower than ever and told her that the camp would be over before her new blood was all done. The tears brimming in her eyes confirmed that I had screwed up again.<br />
<br />
Her transfusion seemed to drag on endlessly. Every time a nurse or clinic assistant came in the room to check on us, Rosie proudly and innocently told them about the camp and to look at her butterfly cheek. Emmie stared at the bag of blood hanging on her pole. She never seemed to hate that bag of blood as much as she did right then.<br />
<br />
The minute her pump beeped signaling the end of her transfusion, she asked about the face painting and the camp. It was well past the end time of the camp, but the nurse could see the hurt in both of our eyes so she took out Emmie's IV out as fast as she could and said, "Run, Mama. You never know. Hold the gauze on her arm tight and run."<br />
<br />
So we did. Through the after-hours halls of the hospital. Taking every back way I remembered from my days of working there. Carrying my big girl, holding that gauze tight over her IV site, and praying that the camp went a little long. But it didn't. When we arrived, counselors were packing up the last of the boxes. The room that was so lively earlier was just a bare space full of folding tables and chairs. Before I could finish the phrase, "I'm sorry, honey" Emmie started to cry. How pathetic we were, in the hallway of the hospital, me holding a bloody gauze, and Emmie crying. <br />
<br />
And then, a girl in a green camp shirt came over asking what was the matter. "Did you not have a chance to race your car?" she asked since they had been racing cars earlier. I quietly explained the situation with the transfusion and the ill-fated face-painting stop I made earlier with Rosie. "Well, guess what!? I was one of the face painters today! Why don't you sit right down and I'll get out all of the face paint and you can have your very own camp!"<br />
<br />
So there we sat, in the middle of the empty room surrounded by packed up boxes of camp stuff. The counselor took out every single paint color and glitter and brush you could imagine and took painstaking care to paint the perfect flower on Emmie's perfect cheek. When Emmie looked in the mirror at the finished product, her smile made me know that I had made the right decision. Now, there were tears in my eyes. Like many of my decisions as a mother, it was clumsy and a little ugly, but in the end it was all OK. The counselor gave us a handful of glittery stickers for everyone, and Emmie and I skipped hand in hand back to the Infusion Unit. "Mama, I love that you know all of the back ways here. When I grow up, I want to be just like you. But with a superhero cape." <br />
<br />
We arrived back just in time for Frannie's transfusion to end. Frannie cheerfully stuck some glittery stickers all over her body, and she felt just like one of the gang. We left the hospital feeling good. Full of blood, and full of smiles. <br />
<br />
So, to the young woman from the Hole in the Wall Gang camp who stayed long after the day was over to do a private camp session for Emmie, thank you. Those flowers may have only lasted until bath time, but the memory you gave us will last much longer than that.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgslopwP3HI9FUw_Fh-NWWlUdrQYR50Vj_wFnxPuU45pakH6u82yxav-Zsfl8uWfVg06Pu5xuiFpKxk6ZegrHBYIe8LLO9Try7ekWkl5je9lI8r_TOBrjMI8YRJdg-6Ey3o_CeqvGtEOLY/s1600/IMG_1567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgslopwP3HI9FUw_Fh-NWWlUdrQYR50Vj_wFnxPuU45pakH6u82yxav-Zsfl8uWfVg06Pu5xuiFpKxk6ZegrHBYIe8LLO9Try7ekWkl5je9lI8r_TOBrjMI8YRJdg-6Ey3o_CeqvGtEOLY/s320/IMG_1567.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little flower means a whole lot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-49596675182306561862015-06-10T20:00:00.000-07:002015-06-10T20:25:07.557-07:00Two Years of RosieMay 7th marked two years since our spunky little Rosie came into our lives. <span style="font-family: inherit;">T<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;">he perfect dimple under her eye when she smiles still melts my heart. She's a big sister and a little sister and proud of it. She's a tiny girl who loves very big.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;">Rosie was once a poster child for Love Without Boundaries. Tiny, sad, and spending a lot of time in her crib in her orphanage. We were told by the nannies that she became a favorite at Foshan Shunde CWI because, "she was the prettiest one." </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKkdt4vTaHoyrZ8UMb5cj1IgaaCYbLEIASwcLaj2lEqgQJn7rOhun5WI2yw1PNmtuopmI15aSPECKyIBOlwLOoDjgEceD73ctxLcAICzI78cMNZa8T0zTCxI1RQe0P4kngQNUpZYoJ0M/s1600/LWB+poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKkdt4vTaHoyrZ8UMb5cj1IgaaCYbLEIASwcLaj2lEqgQJn7rOhun5WI2yw1PNmtuopmI15aSPECKyIBOlwLOoDjgEceD73ctxLcAICzI78cMNZa8T0zTCxI1RQe0P4kngQNUpZYoJ0M/s320/LWB+poster.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;">Pretty, she sure is. But her fun and loving personality totally outshines her outer beauty. She is extremely strong-willed, and tests every single rule put in front of her. Let's be blunt...she gets the most "time outs" in our house. But she also gives the biggest hugs, the most frequent kisses, and makes the loudest proclamations of her love for us. She is smart, funny, and cuddly. She is scrappy, sporty, and brave. She'd climb up anything...she'd try to climb a wall like Spiderman if she could, but she wouldn't touch a ladybug if her life depended on it. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;">She coined the family phrase, "Let's do a no-peep" when it comes time to getting stuck with a needle for her transfusion. At that moment, she sits still and holds out her arm and doesn't even flinch. Yet at any other time, I've never seen her sit still for more than 10 seconds. Even <i>she</i> says, "I think I have the ants in my pants."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gvkMZgDv51WKCajPv7ly1XAzYWeTgFRIb4dSa6yWWoUMBht06eIGjLdtEnwgdoU5U6qMJ66T2xKj7CRZLs-eVFtkQquWYgOmO37yRCSo6HDkIrQwTTpl20O7sH8pftYLv065c6jDR1k/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gvkMZgDv51WKCajPv7ly1XAzYWeTgFRIb4dSa6yWWoUMBht06eIGjLdtEnwgdoU5U6qMJ66T2xKj7CRZLs-eVFtkQquWYgOmO37yRCSo6HDkIrQwTTpl20O7sH8pftYLv065c6jDR1k/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy2Cfa-j7nlYMoVWKcYF73s1fZBDq2ZIaXt9v-X3k9J_IACyPL1A552IQFg5jIugURjkRUuGubWK6VWpQWW4GjSz2R5i0fHN0qZa-ELyl9ZAraeNBPTnWyCgC2MCgbmfP_Ck3IgmYE3o/s1600/IMG_0835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy2Cfa-j7nlYMoVWKcYF73s1fZBDq2ZIaXt9v-X3k9J_IACyPL1A552IQFg5jIugURjkRUuGubWK6VWpQWW4GjSz2R5i0fHN0qZa-ELyl9ZAraeNBPTnWyCgC2MCgbmfP_Ck3IgmYE3o/s320/IMG_0835.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbKAsGkgHopYP7s2KyQsjGJvZSSnju5h-6HKjQb4AmemQq1HGHBtWiXmAUpZxjuv9hW_BO06xu8gWCcsEGz7sWP5vqueYh-0K37pS_Ai9rgQoBfVkU4AfHfDYfzG_odiBmepJkRYTHquY/s1600/IMG_1101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbKAsGkgHopYP7s2KyQsjGJvZSSnju5h-6HKjQb4AmemQq1HGHBtWiXmAUpZxjuv9hW_BO06xu8gWCcsEGz7sWP5vqueYh-0K37pS_Ai9rgQoBfVkU4AfHfDYfzG_odiBmepJkRYTHquY/s320/IMG_1101.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #141823;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;">Rosie wanted to celebrate her day by riding bikes in the driveway and eating the whipped cream off the top of a Frappuccino. Happy that neither activity required wearing a dress.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px;">When I look at those sad eyes in the pictures of her time before us my heart both breaks and jumps for joy. Breaks because we couldn't love her sooner. Jumps for joy because she's now ours. And I wonder again and again what I ever did to be blessed with such love.</span>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-18374298339076806392015-06-08T20:25:00.000-07:002015-06-08T20:25:00.239-07:00Memorial DayIn the spirit of catching up on some photos...Here are some we took of the girls on Memorial Day, honoring those who lost their lives fighting for our freedom. We are all so lucky to live in "the land of the free and the home of the brave."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ZqaiaTVdFRUtUMzxdSLBHUM5U1UtOecboagWfn2HUsbDrk_NcbTHdps7p22kG0rr6fPjiRgQqFIdjnIh-VbR-v4CTpqO8wQ5ci_2TRObo5Z9zr2Q3t6xO8HlpZr3nbvd7jpw7nptqog/s1600/IMG_0993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ZqaiaTVdFRUtUMzxdSLBHUM5U1UtOecboagWfn2HUsbDrk_NcbTHdps7p22kG0rr6fPjiRgQqFIdjnIh-VbR-v4CTpqO8wQ5ci_2TRObo5Z9zr2Q3t6xO8HlpZr3nbvd7jpw7nptqog/s320/IMG_0993.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcBQXmpo6A5yAx-4o8HeraO042DqMpWDV7HHJMG6FpXp6gAxObj0EE0Af5YlgCf_q3eVZbZw2Dcbhwcm-BLL6CeYbCEBsFKabWunJ157usgax8AQFOhMCfBbedc9ivHJxrj52d_xQLR3M/s1600/IMG_1006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcBQXmpo6A5yAx-4o8HeraO042DqMpWDV7HHJMG6FpXp6gAxObj0EE0Af5YlgCf_q3eVZbZw2Dcbhwcm-BLL6CeYbCEBsFKabWunJ157usgax8AQFOhMCfBbedc9ivHJxrj52d_xQLR3M/s320/IMG_1006.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A breathtaking display on Boston Common.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXc12jOREs0JZMD12m6RiteaOX-A6B_RkcXSN-dnkRI0E-7GW_gnprca_fE0GfxBB1Ht89wPgEEqDoIt0EcbpurgKUO9rmBM0Xa5phbQX-1Xd19aCO-W93RKqBW61Zo_8M4eo8P_RdjCU/s1600/IMG_1009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXc12jOREs0JZMD12m6RiteaOX-A6B_RkcXSN-dnkRI0E-7GW_gnprca_fE0GfxBB1Ht89wPgEEqDoIt0EcbpurgKUO9rmBM0Xa5phbQX-1Xd19aCO-W93RKqBW61Zo_8M4eo8P_RdjCU/s320/IMG_1009.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots to think about here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TDo3PqQEG_nIRLe91I2OerZKSRo6G3skBnU-L5LP7ck9gOwm8pPOW_JgdWB7-KMHtP7QWB8NJM6iv51ZHuc5vj7HGkZXE0bTukKO1s6zlTYiSMKW_Ex6UTCJVa2HeKg3BlciCmtF3oc/s1600/IMG_1015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TDo3PqQEG_nIRLe91I2OerZKSRo6G3skBnU-L5LP7ck9gOwm8pPOW_JgdWB7-KMHtP7QWB8NJM6iv51ZHuc5vj7HGkZXE0bTukKO1s6zlTYiSMKW_Ex6UTCJVa2HeKg3BlciCmtF3oc/s320/IMG_1015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxJ2rSfxrnNoMloyNVSeSwiB1JRF3pCA0LrZ6W66JoKk4vjK1I7Ar1Xi0xeqOceuac9OKvKGnGgQwiJ4gjEfxBPiC-idxbk1liccJCrqnVLKgeyETl6iFBaMfKQp8QqSCApO9p1WFln0/s1600/IMG_1020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxJ2rSfxrnNoMloyNVSeSwiB1JRF3pCA0LrZ6W66JoKk4vjK1I7Ar1Xi0xeqOceuac9OKvKGnGgQwiJ4gjEfxBPiC-idxbk1liccJCrqnVLKgeyETl6iFBaMfKQp8QqSCApO9p1WFln0/s320/IMG_1020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWYnTBnNvAVRcFYlJEbqL3GTRosLnoyLm2h_vxR1a8KWWBkjn8KJoPMw9GQs5Vbg5sgSh1G6TuzPru5e8oB6hGuQqHzg1oD32Chfg-je-IemvsAtXNjBK7UspRTfpTlfo68KkU8k2dZng/s1600/IMG_1021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWYnTBnNvAVRcFYlJEbqL3GTRosLnoyLm2h_vxR1a8KWWBkjn8KJoPMw9GQs5Vbg5sgSh1G6TuzPru5e8oB6hGuQqHzg1oD32Chfg-je-IemvsAtXNjBK7UspRTfpTlfo68KkU8k2dZng/s320/IMG_1021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUYUAzNKvb-7csOIjWVLDvolSLruancyeqoYrBvr4pygoU9RHK6Ut8yuzRMIlPRGWUJ5LOl3SrmaN8oTW33Ow0OPqFVopzxLs6sRVQF8smGJrKxTVX7m_csNSW2VteS8-mAjbwwAQIN8/s1600/IMG_1022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUYUAzNKvb-7csOIjWVLDvolSLruancyeqoYrBvr4pygoU9RHK6Ut8yuzRMIlPRGWUJ5LOl3SrmaN8oTW33Ow0OPqFVopzxLs6sRVQF8smGJrKxTVX7m_csNSW2VteS8-mAjbwwAQIN8/s320/IMG_1022.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfXD2mO3qBgDxyAQ_bB3bFzbg6fQgUTKy1NXWtrM07Ted55gcNHewRq7AM86sKYjn7J2oguncHOlaWuYyj0BYPqLD_Ih-NojCmlGjg2pPXq7Hpy2P6dwQmLbZtDXGIzrxJ_YJtwjPt59g/s1600/IMG_1024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfXD2mO3qBgDxyAQ_bB3bFzbg6fQgUTKy1NXWtrM07Ted55gcNHewRq7AM86sKYjn7J2oguncHOlaWuYyj0BYPqLD_Ih-NojCmlGjg2pPXq7Hpy2P6dwQmLbZtDXGIzrxJ_YJtwjPt59g/s320/IMG_1024.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our proud Americans.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTX61HkRxLOgX9nUj6eyL_MzMGRZqvHHbJknVeWIkewdoC5L2thvvsJrYGF0YLr4qBpksUeagKWNW8nNRDAVAxfdq_vGjkHAeU1RYApvuS2GW857H85KBPjQxLfkGytfnUsYZiQP4K1KM/s1600/IMG_1025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTX61HkRxLOgX9nUj6eyL_MzMGRZqvHHbJknVeWIkewdoC5L2thvvsJrYGF0YLr4qBpksUeagKWNW8nNRDAVAxfdq_vGjkHAeU1RYApvuS2GW857H85KBPjQxLfkGytfnUsYZiQP4K1KM/s320/IMG_1025.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Counting some of the 37,000 flags on display.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixBN76hQfNRXl7gLVc1YELa2dzYfGq-E2ic5O2XVw82Z6YZq-WZWIK4maTrtsLjdqoB_yDKCT6eGhFqybYYrqwiw8mXfk4BAObQElccBt7bVnWRvKuty1rughkDV3AvSRESX-Z2H1In98/s1600/IMG_1028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixBN76hQfNRXl7gLVc1YELa2dzYfGq-E2ic5O2XVw82Z6YZq-WZWIK4maTrtsLjdqoB_yDKCT6eGhFqybYYrqwiw8mXfk4BAObQElccBt7bVnWRvKuty1rughkDV3AvSRESX-Z2H1In98/s320/IMG_1028.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQKAO60VTA-2lLksqGMhuQp5RprJBOC-HJrgRdMQL1sx7XcOz2djYJ6XcERRQwKIaGdlPU8rimFAZPiUtjiBhZ8xkbYZz8M2TNfrLYwQFB-YTQrd-_JG9_nsf2u62PKnDaRsd-FV3ygU/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQKAO60VTA-2lLksqGMhuQp5RprJBOC-HJrgRdMQL1sx7XcOz2djYJ6XcERRQwKIaGdlPU8rimFAZPiUtjiBhZ8xkbYZz8M2TNfrLYwQFB-YTQrd-_JG9_nsf2u62PKnDaRsd-FV3ygU/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A perfect way to pay tribute.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-69132458971192881362015-06-05T18:56:00.000-07:002015-06-05T20:05:26.812-07:00The Problem of Slightly Worn Clothes - An UpdateWhat to do with slightly worn clothes? It's an issue that everyone struggles with. You know what I mean. You put something on for like, 2 hours and all you do is watch <i>Homeland</i> in it. Sure, it's worn. It's technically "dirty" but you know it really isn't. You can google this issue and get ideas such as:<br />
<br />
1. "I put it back in the drawer." Nah.<br />
2. "I turn it inside out and then hang it back up so I know that it is gently worn." Um, too much work. You do not have 3 children under the age of 5.<br />
3. "I have this chair/bench/ottoman in my bedroom covered with slightly worn clothes." Getting warmer.<br />
4. "I throw lightly worn clothes on the floor until the pile is so high my kids can climb it like Everest." Oh, you are my husband. Hi, Patrick! I didn't know you followed this blog!<br />
<br />
OK. So this post is not about this universal problem, because I have no solution or even remotely good ideas about it. I tricked you with a catchy title to suck you in. It's been so long since I've posted I figured you forgot about us. I am a bad mommy blogger. <br />
<br />
So, we have been a bit busy over the past two months, just living in our usual crazy whirlwind. Half of the time I feel like I am drowning in a never-ending sea of kiddie love. The other half I am just, you know, drowning. You people who make it look so easy are <strike>liars</strike> fabulous. I am just...regular. We had some busy medical stuff and then all kinds of technical difficulties. Our camera broke so I had nothing to take pictures with, and then once we replaced the camera, the computer broke so I had nowhere to upload the pictures I was taking with the new camera. So I fell behind on everything.<br />
<br />
April brought us a wonderful vacation in Aruba. We worried that it might be too soon to take the whole circus on a big vacation, but Mama needed a Pina Colada in a warm climate and we all generally needed a "break." (Break defined as caring for the crazies in a tropical locale instead of right here where it seemed like the winter would never end.) But, seriously, it was a perfect vacation of sun, sand, ocean, pool, great food, and non-stop family time. Until the flights home where everyone sort of showed their ugly side. Upon landing at Logan, Patrick said, "Not only are we never taking a vacation again...WE ARE NEVER LEAVING ARLINGTON AGAIN." Yeah, the flights back were that bad. But I've blocked all of that out now and just remember the amazing week we spent in paradise.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLsFMLeVNx-XfXixo_fUSQVOq3yEZhwQIh62Rfhyphenhyphen53llqnPe1oX1AFp9SK9rw5UWsddepyuFZU13yIGkG8pkxzEjvmA7MJFYuca2BsNLY12JXol7MwpNgEj-qJcYTUdlWo6Vw4hyphenhyphenYZ4M/s1600/IMG_0078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLsFMLeVNx-XfXixo_fUSQVOq3yEZhwQIh62Rfhyphenhyphen53llqnPe1oX1AFp9SK9rw5UWsddepyuFZU13yIGkG8pkxzEjvmA7MJFYuca2BsNLY12JXol7MwpNgEj-qJcYTUdlWo6Vw4hyphenhyphenYZ4M/s320/IMG_0078.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hotel room matching PJ pic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT89F5k5fdmoZqr4rmxIcvCRTX8nnyBj2yBSBpE4ot5cAUwYBMhqtMXIWllMAPPIcV6DwjE08VQS1hlGVwu0nhAktr_aqJkRa620FA8GKy-4vps8m3TUBZ9Mzj7vflNuSlkNW9395cg5I/s1600/IMG_0083_edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT89F5k5fdmoZqr4rmxIcvCRTX8nnyBj2yBSBpE4ot5cAUwYBMhqtMXIWllMAPPIcV6DwjE08VQS1hlGVwu0nhAktr_aqJkRa620FA8GKy-4vps8m3TUBZ9Mzj7vflNuSlkNW9395cg5I/s320/IMG_0083_edit.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading to the beach. Look at this crew.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurftOWYAx3NzYtuMP9Wk_fo716uSVyuHIrPUHyQNOJNSQiXPDDv5MsQoCcW333Vl5UCiK2LzmpzY8nxAmAKfKT9H3GNVWoGBf1Oi-GkzURbOPthAbL88S6rEWHPQ_pdwMIXIGI2HjK9w/s1600/IMG_0095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurftOWYAx3NzYtuMP9Wk_fo716uSVyuHIrPUHyQNOJNSQiXPDDv5MsQoCcW333Vl5UCiK2LzmpzY8nxAmAKfKT9H3GNVWoGBf1Oi-GkzURbOPthAbL88S6rEWHPQ_pdwMIXIGI2HjK9w/s320/IMG_0095.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjVnrfGsa_yZqN5WcXDnePX7gmK_YPb0BBpMLivMt8Tdn-IVxQcrmJwVUMpILYaRdU4Mas31-r5aukJaxEge2dBpv6WiqsCRD5NeZDrG2hChNzVu3NDk1BJlpAlxKpQZP38aurnTDEp0o/s1600/IMG_0150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjVnrfGsa_yZqN5WcXDnePX7gmK_YPb0BBpMLivMt8Tdn-IVxQcrmJwVUMpILYaRdU4Mas31-r5aukJaxEge2dBpv6WiqsCRD5NeZDrG2hChNzVu3NDk1BJlpAlxKpQZP38aurnTDEp0o/s320/IMG_0150.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late night gelato.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdLr0BaFWInhbsJMeiyYhsmQ9EY3tdPiAQ05Zxo77P5W3YvWWD6-yvSkYFMwyhj6PFhPI_r2vkz4GGabSN1Yi8P8nMLkZEn910nOeNG2Zzc_d0TsLMQpz6kyXwA_eD0duHC0PuZq6JIE/s1600/IMG_0181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdLr0BaFWInhbsJMeiyYhsmQ9EY3tdPiAQ05Zxo77P5W3YvWWD6-yvSkYFMwyhj6PFhPI_r2vkz4GGabSN1Yi8P8nMLkZEn910nOeNG2Zzc_d0TsLMQpz6kyXwA_eD0duHC0PuZq6JIE/s320/IMG_0181.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6BuPCJ4REXT5qmvLpdzcSwGOg1udNg12Xm3dICz0xWmsY32j2bbwdfRObmSLKtXp9P4pNtFWCsW1kztwGK-wqWLs630EFej_DXKTxCWBO-07mXy3IHIK9WEHhwFtUHWFG2-QychjJmY/s1600/IMG_0230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6BuPCJ4REXT5qmvLpdzcSwGOg1udNg12Xm3dICz0xWmsY32j2bbwdfRObmSLKtXp9P4pNtFWCsW1kztwGK-wqWLs630EFej_DXKTxCWBO-07mXy3IHIK9WEHhwFtUHWFG2-QychjJmY/s320/IMG_0230.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtKfDv5rN1RxH93vv22TH2oRNhQ11vEXIn9aH052HmLWDPWT9wNn5BlIF6_yQWigFzF4HM9nFulKxHayPVYjhFEk1xgOz4FbxPy8mwbgh__ih4_7eslqCkKQTTp_3LmWAVO4wnF-6P-5Y/s1600/IMG_0235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtKfDv5rN1RxH93vv22TH2oRNhQ11vEXIn9aH052HmLWDPWT9wNn5BlIF6_yQWigFzF4HM9nFulKxHayPVYjhFEk1xgOz4FbxPy8mwbgh__ih4_7eslqCkKQTTp_3LmWAVO4wnF-6P-5Y/s320/IMG_0235.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv78S3d-g0aRmTujM6OE_3j1X9ReN9G_RnH0Yr4jUNpd97pGdevi78y4XbQVCW1jhyphenhyphenqQlrD4JEq-IShBl4rZ7zKX66o7HYm6AUnVD52GnhZmvAONYgpFYy56r5GowcI-MWySn0lz324C8/s1600/IMG_0246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv78S3d-g0aRmTujM6OE_3j1X9ReN9G_RnH0Yr4jUNpd97pGdevi78y4XbQVCW1jhyphenhyphenqQlrD4JEq-IShBl4rZ7zKX66o7HYm6AUnVD52GnhZmvAONYgpFYy56r5GowcI-MWySn0lz324C8/s320/IMG_0246.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtpQcO9GV2WG6En-sgv9W4Zir6L5sM__YBZ10IJaV6ygVXQ67yrJUh-91qyJNK0KqX9TN8q1Iv5krvjon_ZeasZ4MbvzHLpGBnxklj0aS0j542sisEmytom2QEULptSod7tm3maHFaF5Q/s1600/IMG_0277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtpQcO9GV2WG6En-sgv9W4Zir6L5sM__YBZ10IJaV6ygVXQ67yrJUh-91qyJNK0KqX9TN8q1Iv5krvjon_ZeasZ4MbvzHLpGBnxklj0aS0j542sisEmytom2QEULptSod7tm3maHFaF5Q/s320/IMG_0277.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While P and I may be guilty of emptying this box of its contents over<br />
the course of our vacation, we did NOT put Frannie in the box.<br />
She came up with this photo op on her own.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBR4i8Jd7kFlm6tVvg6lu1H0dqT1fPs9JcqKXBLiI4DYKDBTqRA4_KK4DdSi7sfIS-OpdlRPcZs-XINg8RXZJ987TQSU1fWxon43Rf4sWPk0GHRJPQyixjX-zzo3mHfAnndQQgKPz7xs/s1600/IMG_0306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBR4i8Jd7kFlm6tVvg6lu1H0dqT1fPs9JcqKXBLiI4DYKDBTqRA4_KK4DdSi7sfIS-OpdlRPcZs-XINg8RXZJ987TQSU1fWxon43Rf4sWPk0GHRJPQyixjX-zzo3mHfAnndQQgKPz7xs/s320/IMG_0306.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love me some little ruffly butts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyH3GFO5vO9_rgHcfyUhGYUWxxP8My6iHwXnO7GnOCk1nZsOuIE6mLWXnfFZEJMGwDOwLpdagcvdH-zrJICnuK1aUYqq7o1nm_H9LDkd0NlAhlCo14eYeHJMeOBvSzY8Qm4-Hqpji-k9Q/s1600/IMG_0333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyH3GFO5vO9_rgHcfyUhGYUWxxP8My6iHwXnO7GnOCk1nZsOuIE6mLWXnfFZEJMGwDOwLpdagcvdH-zrJICnuK1aUYqq7o1nm_H9LDkd0NlAhlCo14eYeHJMeOBvSzY8Qm4-Hqpji-k9Q/s320/IMG_0333.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAYp3JP96rtDSX29xCM6BH4zpIdzqFFRs5ykj4GH2_GaZ0t33BJilORA2O7T9Nx921mTN7qbIRLekT0De7p5SVCHMsbGwsI9aHRq5-ZVVfjIS4T1e3pM2_s-Ksn0xLHs_lFnoMaC01BQ/s1600/IMG_0390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAYp3JP96rtDSX29xCM6BH4zpIdzqFFRs5ykj4GH2_GaZ0t33BJilORA2O7T9Nx921mTN7qbIRLekT0De7p5SVCHMsbGwsI9aHRq5-ZVVfjIS4T1e3pM2_s-Ksn0xLHs_lFnoMaC01BQ/s320/IMG_0390.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaD6AuiX8MydxqrB3ONeNoolMG9DbeWqHr5C2LQHW2WGi9f6iqr1sISVqIFyn2zXGvThbDgzjq0BMWvjx1cN2FwIYHLfMEWwLRm_72EYApAyO-cECAJ4lh23B2F-DqBKgaD9K6jzePtuA/s1600/IMG_0418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaD6AuiX8MydxqrB3ONeNoolMG9DbeWqHr5C2LQHW2WGi9f6iqr1sISVqIFyn2zXGvThbDgzjq0BMWvjx1cN2FwIYHLfMEWwLRm_72EYApAyO-cECAJ4lh23B2F-DqBKgaD9K6jzePtuA/s320/IMG_0418.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxIa5VUJHDRUoOm3cXNrar1DEiUciu-h4oKBmWbOXCTt0I18uJWoZYjJpcvEivWEBVJR2QzP6ixHZwBg_dly2sRXcaIB3sQSJTwezATLKRW4zgmL74toS1BHXR-OyMyNmqDQDnSTZqg4/s1600/IMG_0439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxIa5VUJHDRUoOm3cXNrar1DEiUciu-h4oKBmWbOXCTt0I18uJWoZYjJpcvEivWEBVJR2QzP6ixHZwBg_dly2sRXcaIB3sQSJTwezATLKRW4zgmL74toS1BHXR-OyMyNmqDQDnSTZqg4/s320/IMG_0439.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paradise.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzuLe_QjByr0UnO6mUFahI9Ts1TcN_jd7AGMl9q3dGfqMk-mJe1sOv6mSd4_lSVksv7rl4a5qjh-huKNPxDV1cMG8kB-G2ni4snX-NtxYgRZtbKsHI9sIVNEaOqtP0bYiha_yhwwd-bvo/s1600/IMG_0473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzuLe_QjByr0UnO6mUFahI9Ts1TcN_jd7AGMl9q3dGfqMk-mJe1sOv6mSd4_lSVksv7rl4a5qjh-huKNPxDV1cMG8kB-G2ni4snX-NtxYgRZtbKsHI9sIVNEaOqtP0bYiha_yhwwd-bvo/s320/IMG_0473.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ywXOBuS0Z1i5anRoMdC2LsiLtLhdDCZBAEFE-MUj5pnNhC-l2jDY2uU5sCOPCyvaYYzdlzh0Tb4rZM_X3Tsd7-yQk8qTriZhYJFR5wxb8dSlRN4Lj79Z88zDgbAMBqaWzM4hQtkLk8w/s1600/IMG_0556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ywXOBuS0Z1i5anRoMdC2LsiLtLhdDCZBAEFE-MUj5pnNhC-l2jDY2uU5sCOPCyvaYYzdlzh0Tb4rZM_X3Tsd7-yQk8qTriZhYJFR5wxb8dSlRN4Lj79Z88zDgbAMBqaWzM4hQtkLk8w/s320/IMG_0556.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgauOxqjNmRKzQDqAZjby1Er3l_2AvfR_zIldqrOGuRhQwpEWpJ3u8pJKeZlXAhY_WqSHVPUx3shOLe6FDvBhidIMoxjAresxB7AMxgLBhcAws9qWgIqtTk0oWi99Fa2Pn81iizCfrZyVY/s1600/IMG_0567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgauOxqjNmRKzQDqAZjby1Er3l_2AvfR_zIldqrOGuRhQwpEWpJ3u8pJKeZlXAhY_WqSHVPUx3shOLe6FDvBhidIMoxjAresxB7AMxgLBhcAws9qWgIqtTk0oWi99Fa2Pn81iizCfrZyVY/s320/IMG_0567.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Shortly after our trip to Aruba, we were fortunate enough to have a little mini-break to Chatham. Patrick had a trip for work and we promised that as long as we could keep a low profile, we could tag along. In true New England spirit, the girls and I sat on the beach and built sandcastles in the chilly weather and strolled Chatham's quaint Main Street. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpI3QSbvL13qu9zLSxgtv1D2fNbDD1jCqFp19twejnRdE7LVayxJv8vAU02UdL85-07xxwWYzkLSODa9xPuk1TZEDq44OM_b7teiyGoARftufiuMnqrYv4VH8zj37erdGtq42x1Vbk3I/s1600/IMG_0650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpI3QSbvL13qu9zLSxgtv1D2fNbDD1jCqFp19twejnRdE7LVayxJv8vAU02UdL85-07xxwWYzkLSODa9xPuk1TZEDq44OM_b7teiyGoARftufiuMnqrYv4VH8zj37erdGtq42x1Vbk3I/s320/IMG_0650.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DLp-zVYRGsPEzfakd813AeulCH5wcrkDOEq_DPQOskFp7wJfp5ZVSshsWKvrwFQP8tY-68akpEkXbKoMtBoOXNUFkVN_pSE6jY8lAdVXvCqUdEm_LUX9l1KrE5XLNEsyEKpijK6f3zo/s1600/IMG_0656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_DLp-zVYRGsPEzfakd813AeulCH5wcrkDOEq_DPQOskFp7wJfp5ZVSshsWKvrwFQP8tY-68akpEkXbKoMtBoOXNUFkVN_pSE6jY8lAdVXvCqUdEm_LUX9l1KrE5XLNEsyEKpijK6f3zo/s320/IMG_0656.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63IIXhEzTtoU3H9gA21eJhraX_FuC7f6krXm4PFMObuRTsaYdqXRSnJWCTn7w3ynUdAwhyq6XiC4kR9pQqvTXIEosYJSqNlDBBI7kT1pHmK3uPgl3-Ry4QIQJsQnM5dIQuKoB37alb1E/s1600/IMG_0662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63IIXhEzTtoU3H9gA21eJhraX_FuC7f6krXm4PFMObuRTsaYdqXRSnJWCTn7w3ynUdAwhyq6XiC4kR9pQqvTXIEosYJSqNlDBBI7kT1pHmK3uPgl3-Ry4QIQJsQnM5dIQuKoB37alb1E/s320/IMG_0662.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
After our two trips we entered sort of the final stretch of the school year. Emmie had several field trips, and Rosie even got to visit Sunshine Nursery School in preparation of being a pre-K student there next year! My goodness, how can that be?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtD9GIiz2V6gDUyXBKIGfuiyqHbQE9pCqbX1ZFui_1W210ezJP-daxm-XV8UPxAJRHayIh8LgBKDREfsRxWiSqyE9wmQ3VeQEcMUmCSMCBaoXZHPzDQYEinJpdNN_7y0GDjKvY93gKNNo/s1600/IMG_0909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtD9GIiz2V6gDUyXBKIGfuiyqHbQE9pCqbX1ZFui_1W210ezJP-daxm-XV8UPxAJRHayIh8LgBKDREfsRxWiSqyE9wmQ3VeQEcMUmCSMCBaoXZHPzDQYEinJpdNN_7y0GDjKvY93gKNNo/s320/IMG_0909.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All ready for her pre-K visit day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And, of course, the end of the school year also brings the end of dance class. Emmie and Rosie were both in this years performance, making for twice the sequins, twice the lipstick, and twice the adorableness. Emmie, being the seasoned performer she is loved every minute of it. It being Rosie's first time on the big stage, she danced perfectly but spent a fair amount of time looking for me in the audience. Even now when she talks about it she says, "Mama, I couldn't see you in the dark behind all of those heads!" But everyone did a great job and had a good time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjjbkMHY-rSY02aFiZZ5j-fN7tCSIdBtJhDm9pGYE7hQc1VchOxSWnf3WP3WXNrwb6gCs2OASZDMjIF-MZLcayLD8yXQT-JFCnCnvgmvSDSVP8pf9rvqUMDVuEkOVuaOA_OgSY6QrTjo/s1600/IMG_0738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtjjbkMHY-rSY02aFiZZ5j-fN7tCSIdBtJhDm9pGYE7hQc1VchOxSWnf3WP3WXNrwb6gCs2OASZDMjIF-MZLcayLD8yXQT-JFCnCnvgmvSDSVP8pf9rvqUMDVuEkOVuaOA_OgSY6QrTjo/s320/IMG_0738.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht47rQTAmnv1SXKJbVwLpJFcoqWxuJgviXVyBlkY_0t4OAb8sAsweEQ_czU1krk8K-qaxkYZe5eikhIGRUV27vJ2sX_PUZb6W96u1RNld7WwgbBz32ehXM7i8Lm0uLlcQu49YaAnuLAQU/s1600/IMG_0756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht47rQTAmnv1SXKJbVwLpJFcoqWxuJgviXVyBlkY_0t4OAb8sAsweEQ_czU1krk8K-qaxkYZe5eikhIGRUV27vJ2sX_PUZb6W96u1RNld7WwgbBz32ehXM7i8Lm0uLlcQu49YaAnuLAQU/s320/IMG_0756.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoiDbKrIrXMYiyMNoErZfBeZ8LKhSb427e-v46qnCnk8uutIno1MuyaOTqBn_VcPby0BCT7byR69QWCgU_2mf0WU4hr1IDYgWqWBfr1_mkC7C0R4lXzKHTsDe8nUHjS_zfxvbyz20zEn8/s1600/IMG_0771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoiDbKrIrXMYiyMNoErZfBeZ8LKhSb427e-v46qnCnk8uutIno1MuyaOTqBn_VcPby0BCT7byR69QWCgU_2mf0WU4hr1IDYgWqWBfr1_mkC7C0R4lXzKHTsDe8nUHjS_zfxvbyz20zEn8/s320/IMG_0771.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwrkwm_EH5pASkux61cgj5-ebG4jTk5smUMsMpoRfNisZmRZpWcfZBHZahyphenhyphen4NQHvqCyTAYiJ5gGArfvWZARUudD7q15rl8SHPL14WfXMmL-s5363__bimev5rfvf8Zws7SXAUa8UvygA/s1600/IMG_0778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwrkwm_EH5pASkux61cgj5-ebG4jTk5smUMsMpoRfNisZmRZpWcfZBHZahyphenhyphen4NQHvqCyTAYiJ5gGArfvWZARUudD7q15rl8SHPL14WfXMmL-s5363__bimev5rfvf8Zws7SXAUa8UvygA/s320/IMG_0778.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP5-wFt4AZHRuWIloxtiTazzuGAKh9cc_qAYxC2-FOhHJ_53oqBemgi5sFPhNp6Ad2iYrqplQcHN3k25FWkPZdKDgy-VWMyAOmz8GcYATKXsI-fzeMZNjU4EC53OpzOErAF-LcG5IwrI8/s1600/IMG_0815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP5-wFt4AZHRuWIloxtiTazzuGAKh9cc_qAYxC2-FOhHJ_53oqBemgi5sFPhNp6Ad2iYrqplQcHN3k25FWkPZdKDgy-VWMyAOmz8GcYATKXsI-fzeMZNjU4EC53OpzOErAF-LcG5IwrI8/s320/IMG_0815.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XOEwfr7LjXUNtZfmf5ICjtpg8-09kqMG-HRAYzEg9hxjZIlc6AvdHD2zASLj0qwArlRiXzqHgL3GXzSdddmgzNa30IUnBYSgt4lMVylMglQbeJgkQIMz77Dfhu33RU81OnWAYFtgCK8/s1600/IMG_0832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XOEwfr7LjXUNtZfmf5ICjtpg8-09kqMG-HRAYzEg9hxjZIlc6AvdHD2zASLj0qwArlRiXzqHgL3GXzSdddmgzNa30IUnBYSgt4lMVylMglQbeJgkQIMz77Dfhu33RU81OnWAYFtgCK8/s320/IMG_0832.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Cb-KS3oZn1Yf78_MdZ8QNekScazTbWo04ZMiIowvaWocImifVPS2nWhyphenhypheny2rAGJDBXb91go_ZArc3oAhpH-2cMqNy9LbXnkbRDhZBgTUQHHL9-Le6qo7Tyag290heyK5Nbq2-bFpvOYk/s1600/IMG_0842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Cb-KS3oZn1Yf78_MdZ8QNekScazTbWo04ZMiIowvaWocImifVPS2nWhyphenhypheny2rAGJDBXb91go_ZArc3oAhpH-2cMqNy9LbXnkbRDhZBgTUQHHL9-Le6qo7Tyag290heyK5Nbq2-bFpvOYk/s320/IMG_0842.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
And in between all of this fun going on, there's just regular daily life. School, medical appointments, and of course the little issue of getting Frannie to become more and more attached to our family. She is getting happier with each passing day, but she is definitely a tougher nut to crack than her sisters were. At first Patrick boldly predicted that Frannie would really be loving us by the Fourth of July. Now he's pushed that forward to Labor Day. But she's comfortable in our home and overall quite happy, which is all we could ever ask for.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vhk9RYDwRWXpTOlPPgJkrakooijetardhYfar_VIEJf5cilfLSb7xIJgpJLu84pvzQUyLOgb6WO4qe0e5DPc2Q0rbKhFLPmbx18qSV5uMDjwypHDDsDd2pFn90IW9fR9_VzAaBVdNYI/s1600/IMG_0113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vhk9RYDwRWXpTOlPPgJkrakooijetardhYfar_VIEJf5cilfLSb7xIJgpJLu84pvzQUyLOgb6WO4qe0e5DPc2Q0rbKhFLPmbx18qSV5uMDjwypHDDsDd2pFn90IW9fR9_VzAaBVdNYI/s320/IMG_0113.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-64612009409547155632015-03-17T20:50:00.000-07:002015-03-18T21:04:31.411-07:00The Luck of...UsI was going to call this post "The Luck of the Irish," but the reality is that I am not the slightest bit Irish--even on St. Patrick's Day. So, I guess that just makes me lucky. One lucky Mama. Married to one lucky Irishman. With three Chinese kids.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyfFXijvPrNgcoaiLvKAWOzG-hKUqfbM2qNpBw0g0NYi8OqLa8Ejy0Aed1En-i0tnIyqdWoF-R4yKQLH2a124v8UEA4Y9azyU-hEBDAeRhmshxyEKAKnYGdB8ixQ92KSk5RVlJxVLZMuc/s1600/IMG_3499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyfFXijvPrNgcoaiLvKAWOzG-hKUqfbM2qNpBw0g0NYi8OqLa8Ejy0Aed1En-i0tnIyqdWoF-R4yKQLH2a124v8UEA4Y9azyU-hEBDAeRhmshxyEKAKnYGdB8ixQ92KSk5RVlJxVLZMuc/s1600/IMG_3499.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our lucky charms. <span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">They're magically delicious. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">So delicious that I want to bite their little faces. And I do.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Today we had our annual St. Patrick's Day fun. The fun includes making corned beef and cabbage, something that the one Irish-American person in our house does not prefer. Still, I insist on honoring his heritage with a huge slab of beef, homemade soda bread, and a Guinness. Everyone dresses up in green, except for me, as I do not think I own anything green except for a Celtics t-shirt buried somewhere with my summer clothes. The girls and I bake green cupcakes and we do some holiday arts and crafts projects. All of this Irish fun comes one day after the girls and I made homemade meatballs and gravy, and two days after I carefully folded some Chinese dumplings. This is just another thing that I love about our multicultural family. Had we all not collided like the five luckiest galaxies ever, I really doubt any of us would be having half the fun or varied experiences that we do now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnjN3TYkBZsZME_15ERiWygMyzXRv8WNwzk3gZ0XorMoGqKXxRmatR-6462yMiY4Vk_Eci0_VI7hJzL_M4Vdceq1CQZMSNhjhsAp_R5DRBEFwWh_kdjR-81cVrq65RqDCJ1gL5FHLIdNo/s1600/IMG_3506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnjN3TYkBZsZME_15ERiWygMyzXRv8WNwzk3gZ0XorMoGqKXxRmatR-6462yMiY4Vk_Eci0_VI7hJzL_M4Vdceq1CQZMSNhjhsAp_R5DRBEFwWh_kdjR-81cVrq65RqDCJ1gL5FHLIdNo/s1600/IMG_3506.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnz-OoGO9gNBK3BbhKAhmbpL4xD-Hp1cOTB3tffH57h8BMLtisIzwCxuR31x4Qq5XkZPIkY9l5_yMtwiGh3b7AnovwQxRL5rGnu9R4h1wIMhqV6WXoMjhRa3T3ABnN_G3r48tjHRCEhvY/s1600/IMG_3510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnz-OoGO9gNBK3BbhKAhmbpL4xD-Hp1cOTB3tffH57h8BMLtisIzwCxuR31x4Qq5XkZPIkY9l5_yMtwiGh3b7AnovwQxRL5rGnu9R4h1wIMhqV6WXoMjhRa3T3ABnN_G3r48tjHRCEhvY/s1600/IMG_3510.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp_Kll2LkosoTniXyxohqBW7K_npWWLviXG-lpqc6mSh87w_S_76LaI9cTq-e227A-ruN7DvpmcyQwFcneqe7cgEqkV8iOvItTRSCXY9UPDgDAqaIMK25Y2fKCOJCH_zSadU43RHObhTY/s1600/IMG_3516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp_Kll2LkosoTniXyxohqBW7K_npWWLviXG-lpqc6mSh87w_S_76LaI9cTq-e227A-ruN7DvpmcyQwFcneqe7cgEqkV8iOvItTRSCXY9UPDgDAqaIMK25Y2fKCOJCH_zSadU43RHObhTY/s1600/IMG_3516.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much green.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Although we all love sharing food and stories and outfits celebrating each other's culture, I have to admit, I don't always get it right. Yesterday at Market Basket, Emmie noticed some decorations depicting a rainbow and a pot of gold at the end. Being the ever-curious brainiac she is, she asked me why there was a pot of gold there, and what it had to do with St. Patrick's day. I sort of bluffed my way through some 1,000 ft overview of the rainbow and the pot of gold, which of course she did not accept and only resulted in more questions about Irish lore. Finally, I said, "Emmie, I'm not sure of the exact origin of that story. I'll have to find out. You know, I'm not Irish." To which she responded, "Well, I am!!" Like a happy leprechaun, I grinned from ear to ear.<br />
<br />
I know that this will likely change as the girls get older, but I love how right now they feel they are a little bit of everything we are. They are so proud of being Chinese, but they are also patriotic little Americans with an Irish and Italian background. Watching all that they have embraced makes me think a lot about the many ways in which grown-ups could learn a few lessons from little kids.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxqtaYicr1ggp_9HweprUhzjXODfOpWUA5U7C_E4-4OC3kFZATsYfrjPdOP_sWjKPM-qP2RhwkEm1I_wWT-aMPHMxCIDK3oONRTJYOF_LU_IWfmv38YQ_ftGj2dUCfGUrexhzpPBkRbc/s1600/IMG_3530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxqtaYicr1ggp_9HweprUhzjXODfOpWUA5U7C_E4-4OC3kFZATsYfrjPdOP_sWjKPM-qP2RhwkEm1I_wWT-aMPHMxCIDK3oONRTJYOF_LU_IWfmv38YQ_ftGj2dUCfGUrexhzpPBkRbc/s1600/IMG_3530.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We attempted this selfie SANS kids about 6 times before we gave up.<br />
Look at Emmie wrestling her way into the photo. They can't stay away!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBEqm4pMYSE0WKeTAjeBP-1xN26aIiQYksdz8w9_Z-V_AK-AeQXiFZ2mGSdMuQKClUE7MPoDht4F64nZa715qe9T_HKIlpxvtCgE4Xp9ws_v7GSvMm1Jo8K37uXoP2J1kbStPka5dY5I/s1600/IMG_3531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBEqm4pMYSE0WKeTAjeBP-1xN26aIiQYksdz8w9_Z-V_AK-AeQXiFZ2mGSdMuQKClUE7MPoDht4F64nZa715qe9T_HKIlpxvtCgE4Xp9ws_v7GSvMm1Jo8K37uXoP2J1kbStPka5dY5I/s1600/IMG_3531.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A perfect match.<br />
(Notice the Shaoxing cooking wine in the background, too.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, "Top O' the Mornin' to ya!" Or, "Ni Hao!" Or, how about "Ciao!" Maybe I should just stick with "Hello." Either way, I hope you found whatever you were looking for at the end of the rainbow. I sure did.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVwG92dEMLKex7EWzTCw-TrBjG3P-z40xqE9yUUOiv5ALq5sgVyhJdn00nx_Gv-ogMb7daewAW24gb5jZ46deShM999BGCc_a-6KRyWj7PuoEdJkQzKp5fLxcRpFhWC88gN_-MCqTXXA/s1600/IMG_3517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVwG92dEMLKex7EWzTCw-TrBjG3P-z40xqE9yUUOiv5ALq5sgVyhJdn00nx_Gv-ogMb7daewAW24gb5jZ46deShM999BGCc_a-6KRyWj7PuoEdJkQzKp5fLxcRpFhWC88gN_-MCqTXXA/s1600/IMG_3517.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-27379834257228968242015-03-01T20:42:00.000-08:002015-03-01T20:42:09.075-08:00A Wonderful JourneyI want to say a heartfelt thank you to the Cooley's Anemia Foundation (CAF) for publishing an article about our family and our journey to adoption. Thalassemia has touched my life in so many ways. My entire family is forever grateful for the work that CAF does to advance research and improve the <span id="goog_614051610"></span><span id="goog_614051611"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a>quality of life of patients with thalassemia. I have worn so many hats in the thalassemia world--as a patient, as a clinical researcher, and as a parent--and the Cooley's Anemia Foundation has played an important role in each.<br />
<br />
You can read the article here:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thalassemia.org/a-wonderful-journey-tracy-antonelli-talks-of-adopting-children-with-thalassemia/" target="_blank">http://www.thalassemia.org/a-wonderful-journey-tracy-antonelli-talks-of-adopting-children-with-thalassemia/</a>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-20796799555264451872015-02-19T14:41:00.000-08:002015-02-19T14:41:53.159-08:00Celebrating the Year of the SheepOr the Ram. Or the Goat. Or whatever horned animal you prefer. We're going with sheep since we happen to have a cute little fluffy sheep in our house:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjER2esTYwPbcdxdzOrAstDC2HHJKC_45WpfhANlZPS0v1LA_a6IjuVJTUuk-xiy02w45X_d39VFB_QZ_2f7Vlb20naOka_Xg8Wc6rtzq6Rn1QTwYzcAv5-dZOGGJTDqatO_xF-gYJqCpk/s1600/IMG_3331_edit3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjER2esTYwPbcdxdzOrAstDC2HHJKC_45WpfhANlZPS0v1LA_a6IjuVJTUuk-xiy02w45X_d39VFB_QZ_2f7Vlb20naOka_Xg8Wc6rtzq6Rn1QTwYzcAv5-dZOGGJTDqatO_xF-gYJqCpk/s1600/IMG_3331_edit3.JPG" height="320" width="227" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
OK, we don't really have a sheep in our house. Or in our yard, for that matter. But we happen to have a sheep costume that Frannie was more than happy to wear, so Year of the Sheep it is for the Linguine house.<br />
<br />
We'll celebrate the new year like many families do. I gave Rosie a fresh bang cut. We'll clean the house to sweep out the old year. We'll decorate, eat traditional foods, and just spend time together as a family. And we'll wish for good health, happiness, and good fortune. Although I can't imagine being any luckier than I already am.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZeoJQRluhLYwAWWc2xluaFAow_iQt_bVklS7PwMtp6pH4Eg0YhVT7lbBeb2JH6sl-tvHyn9sKPavpzlBv81REzKQlO1o1-huU1dEgzd7vg3Yv0Prs3RxuY1lUwAdhuJZVqZdXHzhdX5k/s1600/IMG_3300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZeoJQRluhLYwAWWc2xluaFAow_iQt_bVklS7PwMtp6pH4Eg0YhVT7lbBeb2JH6sl-tvHyn9sKPavpzlBv81REzKQlO1o1-huU1dEgzd7vg3Yv0Prs3RxuY1lUwAdhuJZVqZdXHzhdX5k/s1600/IMG_3300.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNEUOsAZLq3r6aKei5Lt8qkeyWjUGgXL2gsHDP6-i6z-zs4lJMtFtEoDTr87LEwoq8jcuxOCL14ht2ULp5K-oPQyH-V0hEosOApiNGIWSYY4KzAh4afgqW356e9l5T7jkc_gjPpStujMA/s1600/IMG_3317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNEUOsAZLq3r6aKei5Lt8qkeyWjUGgXL2gsHDP6-i6z-zs4lJMtFtEoDTr87LEwoq8jcuxOCL14ht2ULp5K-oPQyH-V0hEosOApiNGIWSYY4KzAh4afgqW356e9l5T7jkc_gjPpStujMA/s1600/IMG_3317.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTF1DekGJtkfxkKexIaxMRNfA5V2N_9Mas0XQkTgcnDKPcLct5L_r6vodixVVcOdgMpOp05_92PKvMi47g0ghQOqboMM6uPYzoTSsxPk0JVwzz146v8SxKH6HaFGPbYOJKmy95zg2BQi4/s1600/IMG_3343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTF1DekGJtkfxkKexIaxMRNfA5V2N_9Mas0XQkTgcnDKPcLct5L_r6vodixVVcOdgMpOp05_92PKvMi47g0ghQOqboMM6uPYzoTSsxPk0JVwzz146v8SxKH6HaFGPbYOJKmy95zg2BQi4/s1600/IMG_3343.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYUHNuPQkwiy1odqRHvU4KbCskfg_0I8flc8xhaEf0Wbv9Ed57S6CS5unkgC6XP6xiojWgmgVKdopX_rS14v2rSGs7ioccJc3WBBUhhSww6m6T2K0IQDEECeDaeIz3j0tJTZqfUpfEgU/s1600/IMG_3346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYUHNuPQkwiy1odqRHvU4KbCskfg_0I8flc8xhaEf0Wbv9Ed57S6CS5unkgC6XP6xiojWgmgVKdopX_rS14v2rSGs7ioccJc3WBBUhhSww6m6T2K0IQDEECeDaeIz3j0tJTZqfUpfEgU/s1600/IMG_3346.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOjLTirOhC2X8R4x5CS71etpmFaCYv3d395g1LdgdXwivVd5aDYGsmLkO3Ssa_OkuP5wenxIYWOYNELDJLZ9aARPUcr9Nj8jC_g6aH08Z-OuhQYv-THqRLmwDrUfKxmTMCNIreJTkLv9U/s1600/IMG_3354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOjLTirOhC2X8R4x5CS71etpmFaCYv3d395g1LdgdXwivVd5aDYGsmLkO3Ssa_OkuP5wenxIYWOYNELDJLZ9aARPUcr9Nj8jC_g6aH08Z-OuhQYv-THqRLmwDrUfKxmTMCNIreJTkLv9U/s1600/IMG_3354.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
(And, a few outtakes for the people who always say that my kids are photogenic and cooperative. THEY ARE NOT.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavqaNDSEVdJkEfeB9RSKmPI6s-yTdF1XDSg3TW7CmC56YOgRG-S08IfpZ3Z-Pgn41KfB1bWDsykNCX3u4ID-GFZTYyWF0OIF2mGFJwtnBqWn06y5gqQdnq8SFPVPFEVOI_4OtTdasG1o/s1600/IMG_3356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavqaNDSEVdJkEfeB9RSKmPI6s-yTdF1XDSg3TW7CmC56YOgRG-S08IfpZ3Z-Pgn41KfB1bWDsykNCX3u4ID-GFZTYyWF0OIF2mGFJwtnBqWn06y5gqQdnq8SFPVPFEVOI_4OtTdasG1o/s1600/IMG_3356.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBwhyphenhyphenua4eMCWtYFHvb5cMSWEBQTCFLq4b7IlREx3pp4lUFyj6As_J-DEoJUYrb31JLz3ITgXA3-0RYOpSxTqC6rpGPKE6pzLfNq4x4KmxmPiSKiRWHRoqOJuiRuiauj2L4eYjsOqUFYo/s1600/IMG_3361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBwhyphenhyphenua4eMCWtYFHvb5cMSWEBQTCFLq4b7IlREx3pp4lUFyj6As_J-DEoJUYrb31JLz3ITgXA3-0RYOpSxTqC6rpGPKE6pzLfNq4x4KmxmPiSKiRWHRoqOJuiRuiauj2L4eYjsOqUFYo/s1600/IMG_3361.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQBFQutwg05rMwybLCMjPpOE5GSw661Uxgza4OlL0YrF0M-sMCwcGLTM-hODc84d64oruQtLz-vHnig_Q6omSMfy_Wm5Jxs2KipL4kXt1AYMoz23jVZHTXkfVHFMTLRHnySq73ujzkBE/s1600/IMG_3376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQBFQutwg05rMwybLCMjPpOE5GSw661Uxgza4OlL0YrF0M-sMCwcGLTM-hODc84d64oruQtLz-vHnig_Q6omSMfy_Wm5Jxs2KipL4kXt1AYMoz23jVZHTXkfVHFMTLRHnySq73ujzkBE/s1600/IMG_3376.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-57437339854202323012015-02-07T15:33:00.000-08:002015-02-08T09:17:44.135-08:00FrannieSo, who is this little new little friend who has invaded our hearts, our home, and our refrigerator? Frannie has been with us for 8 weeks, and while she doesn't exactly have the warm fuzzies for us, she has certainly become a fun, funny, smart, and adorable member of our little (or big? are we big yet?) family.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6tdzZGt38UMeDPvTXxuLwkABNmq9R6Q3aUpLmgadsLkfbEQEmG0z1NYWzQu9yx0O1b5GFwHtjH-QvdFIJusGnWzbin8EwjAuvmUSzM7_E3wYxRxmaf8n6AVWHtvihDKibDecWLNVE5A/s1600/IMG_2792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6tdzZGt38UMeDPvTXxuLwkABNmq9R6Q3aUpLmgadsLkfbEQEmG0z1NYWzQu9yx0O1b5GFwHtjH-QvdFIJusGnWzbin8EwjAuvmUSzM7_E3wYxRxmaf8n6AVWHtvihDKibDecWLNVE5A/s1600/IMG_2792.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loves to eat, loves to cook. I had to keep re-cheesing the left side<br />
of this pizza because as soon as I put it on, she stuck her hand in the<br />
cheese and sauce and ate it off.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Frannie is a big girl, with a personality to match. She's around the 75th percentile for height and weight--11 kg to Rosie's 11.4 at their last transfusion! It's no doubt...she is the best eater in our house! She loves everything from pastina to chili to noodles. She loves to "dip" things like hummus or salsa or sauce. She likes brie and risotto. And she has quite a sweet tooth for Nutella and candy. When we put her up in her chair to eat, she literally giggles and cheers.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhf25dKK39SikKeKjeA4egNcm-YH2AFl5ydn3f-OBs2ekmEBhpw9WUxJw8010M3SjjHFmtnkS4Q_6fJ5gvRDl_wvQ01sWJyVXPHA1KTVifwv0rUM9NcRhKUBb9LAMgCRPIOenMNY8gF4/s1600/IMG_3029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhf25dKK39SikKeKjeA4egNcm-YH2AFl5ydn3f-OBs2ekmEBhpw9WUxJw8010M3SjjHFmtnkS4Q_6fJ5gvRDl_wvQ01sWJyVXPHA1KTVifwv0rUM9NcRhKUBb9LAMgCRPIOenMNY8gF4/s1600/IMG_3029.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nothin' to dip? Not so! I've got my fingers!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3I0NdY09_hSrl499jkaSeD8Ed3mByqCCOeTVW0KNhnNd2cnCsie6HTQyQ6fmi_h6kRK9caMPaPnuW6dS9eQTSTEAbPnHABFY1PbhLjwySiqfLhOnbCQ06mPvRVCYnlCyKkhRR2x2mQa4/s1600/IMG_3027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3I0NdY09_hSrl499jkaSeD8Ed3mByqCCOeTVW0KNhnNd2cnCsie6HTQyQ6fmi_h6kRK9caMPaPnuW6dS9eQTSTEAbPnHABFY1PbhLjwySiqfLhOnbCQ06mPvRVCYnlCyKkhRR2x2mQa4/s1600/IMG_3027.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I'm dipping my finger. So what?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbMy-i6umVaGXE9Fhb-5Gd2lv5QtjViGLVb4yiscDJGtJGTDZu8VR4yVJhn1NjVO4vf7l7ptzSm3wv6h9HUUV4rJHjv5UGdE6VbGvOUG6fJi7YtH02QQjWzRqrRhyE5QxZJICak_gW20/s1600/IMG_3046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbMy-i6umVaGXE9Fhb-5Gd2lv5QtjViGLVb4yiscDJGtJGTDZu8VR4yVJhn1NjVO4vf7l7ptzSm3wv6h9HUUV4rJHjv5UGdE6VbGvOUG6fJi7YtH02QQjWzRqrRhyE5QxZJICak_gW20/s1600/IMG_3046.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anyone want a lick? Anyone? Anyone?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The last foster family report we got said that she loved to hang out in "the square" and go to shopping places. We have definitely found it to be true that she enjoys going out whether it be to the supermarket or the playground. She also likes playing in the house, sitting at the girls' little table coloring or pretend cooking in the play kitchen. She enjoys following her big sisters around and playing along with them, but she also has a good time playing on her own.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-X4ghxoikSk6cjuBDFeCFrHpF7PazwFNNH6f2OVSMFkX8aeyjEdovliHZ_MzFcMHaszdK3JINihc0yuXn6VmHEkCxUO079vXCMr9MtA72WLtjO-ARv4RZCJ6tVMKS2lqIjrXZXsF8yQ/s1600/IMG_2821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-X4ghxoikSk6cjuBDFeCFrHpF7PazwFNNH6f2OVSMFkX8aeyjEdovliHZ_MzFcMHaszdK3JINihc0yuXn6VmHEkCxUO079vXCMr9MtA72WLtjO-ARv4RZCJ6tVMKS2lqIjrXZXsF8yQ/s1600/IMG_2821.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liked sitting there, not too keen on sliding down yet.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uSGm5nk-pB-idYOmpmXxKR13HrSN9ZI1B70hMPnyswYvi5Mwf1eMQ9goZywJZSOOwHGqbkTLqqudk4eTjUnGHX-7ZLzA-Epq2Dx8vGm0I_03ASv_wp8YBFJxhYPJ7fZK0th-m4patKw/s1600/IMG_2820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uSGm5nk-pB-idYOmpmXxKR13HrSN9ZI1B70hMPnyswYvi5Mwf1eMQ9goZywJZSOOwHGqbkTLqqudk4eTjUnGHX-7ZLzA-Epq2Dx8vGm0I_03ASv_wp8YBFJxhYPJ7fZK0th-m4patKw/s1600/IMG_2820.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of laughs at the playground. This was right before the never-ending snow<br />
started. Too bad the playground is buried under 40 inches of the white stuff now.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY65FPYvkplsSWAjRZqdZ1BAyclqxtxhD4SJ5kwDufIeFjk2bN_aWccgtXCOeyYxrIc8U_ychP40nTZs-_dl87YKRyBo2hap4iFwJLMoh-6eJfP2ep-jWQgY-n1xwM6fMPCYhwgYa6-0w/s1600/IMG_2822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY65FPYvkplsSWAjRZqdZ1BAyclqxtxhD4SJ5kwDufIeFjk2bN_aWccgtXCOeyYxrIc8U_ychP40nTZs-_dl87YKRyBo2hap4iFwJLMoh-6eJfP2ep-jWQgY-n1xwM6fMPCYhwgYa6-0w/s1600/IMG_2822.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SoaPqFddB2BXFqwRvipGN_VRu7OwqCDuPir801kWwO3Tah6kpgCqmFFLW7xV3-tJKBZe45tB91X337MLJ_gotE5cmmA189zbMCaJ4KJ2RAFkz62441X1quFMupefSP-opIrWd_AWGgA/s1600/IMG_2836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SoaPqFddB2BXFqwRvipGN_VRu7OwqCDuPir801kWwO3Tah6kpgCqmFFLW7xV3-tJKBZe45tB91X337MLJ_gotE5cmmA189zbMCaJ4KJ2RAFkz62441X1quFMupefSP-opIrWd_AWGgA/s1600/IMG_2836.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
She is very bright, and the best baby at imitating I have ever seen. She notices everything and loves to copy. She plays peek-a-boo and claps and absolutely loves to dance to everything from commercial jingles to Taylor Swift. She gets out the microphone and pretends to sing. She says "Mama" and "Baba" and "moh" (for more) and "Bye-bye". She's just starting to say "All done", although we don't hear that much when it comes to food. She babbles a lot, walking around chatting as if she really knows what she is saying. It is so adorable. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiMXkEb2T2mY-PVFH6wrsBztwYn4ItfSs8FpH7UsBFSoiZibiNSftONOpn1pePeF1YbsSmUxUCAOiYyT-i-OVZ7xNToS_3jJGVy9Ry-9qoxBTCYK1TJc6S4bho29tp_5OebxSY2_2GBQ/s1600/IMG_2812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiMXkEb2T2mY-PVFH6wrsBztwYn4ItfSs8FpH7UsBFSoiZibiNSftONOpn1pePeF1YbsSmUxUCAOiYyT-i-OVZ7xNToS_3jJGVy9Ry-9qoxBTCYK1TJc6S4bho29tp_5OebxSY2_2GBQ/s1600/IMG_2812.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More cooking with my little helpers. I thought cooking with two littles was crazy.<br />
Cooking with three is <i>insane</i>. My kitchen will never be the same, but I wouldn't have it<br />
any other way. OMG I'm in love with them!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQiTWRxyn0yMAJ52yqqDfLAuGUY5tvfgfm97J7tJ3xm4pLDdcf64yM2yOhnI76LGazl58KOCTQjC0CZpw8iPioijSEPDggrpsm0Qm990IgZoiw2Ec4IU1AcFZiA2WTnTX-j9-kqNqF6pU/s1600/IMG_2815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQiTWRxyn0yMAJ52yqqDfLAuGUY5tvfgfm97J7tJ3xm4pLDdcf64yM2yOhnI76LGazl58KOCTQjC0CZpw8iPioijSEPDggrpsm0Qm990IgZoiw2Ec4IU1AcFZiA2WTnTX-j9-kqNqF6pU/s1600/IMG_2815.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you can't eat the ingredients, eat the recipe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Frannie is very quick to catch on to routines. After watching my morning routine just a couple of times, she figured out where everything is and in what order I do things. Now she helps me get dressed, handing me pieces of clothes. Just like Emmie used to do, she gets the hand towel off the hook and stands there holding it for me while I wash my face. She's also catching on to my cleaning activities. After seeing me get down and dustpan the floor after meals, now if she gets down and sees food on the floor, she goes and gets the dustpan and brush to clean it up.<br />
<br />
Frannie loves the dishwasher. Anything to do with the dishwasher. If it's open, she likes to put things in it. Spoons, forks, dolls, toy cars, you name it. She also likes to empty it. If she sees drops of water on it, she takes off her socks and dries it with them. No matter what she's doing, if she sees someone open the dishwasher, she drops everything and runs over.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdp4bBdoN3GpfanRq9AK2o2VynmGY9VgLZm7s7vmR0Ppz6CDGBStNyE84sX_n_Qdhi3k9of4cj0LnC-sf0Lw9iR1FwZk6TgrP8rqGyaXoKqzMH9-bQxss_zAMXl_VxANbSdnUSqg9n9s/s1600/IMG_3069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdp4bBdoN3GpfanRq9AK2o2VynmGY9VgLZm7s7vmR0Ppz6CDGBStNyE84sX_n_Qdhi3k9of4cj0LnC-sf0Lw9iR1FwZk6TgrP8rqGyaXoKqzMH9-bQxss_zAMXl_VxANbSdnUSqg9n9s/s1600/IMG_3069.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(That's Rosie to the left watching Frannie through her pirate telescope.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPnbs4CFuHLdKorLHJCbvwqMQExaU0HTN9LM8Jbk97OsMCl4NY4dBt1VyydChyqAXG-u7C6LdPvYDoNhopGEjXSU1UsICwoOOJQfVCk4uONO1aEC_87irVDP003qn02QwGnskcR0aWobc/s1600/IMG_3081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPnbs4CFuHLdKorLHJCbvwqMQExaU0HTN9LM8Jbk97OsMCl4NY4dBt1VyydChyqAXG-u7C6LdPvYDoNhopGEjXSU1UsICwoOOJQfVCk4uONO1aEC_87irVDP003qn02QwGnskcR0aWobc/s1600/IMG_3081.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Busy at work with the dishes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She definitely knows who to look to when she needs help. If she's stuck on her ride-on toy she'll yell for me. If she can't reach or open something she calls me. For every small injustice involving her sisters, she calls me in for back-up. Whether it's to get a toy she was playing with back, if they are touching something that is "hers", or if they are eating one of her favorite foods, she loudly yells, "MAAAAAMA!!!" And, of course, I'm happy to come running.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvlwtv1i_e3dsbreXU6YjG5VY6SZjCJItpUvZJOWU83EtCWUNb-efOxO2STRPP9aILVJEDxFLkBRT9GcBJj4i-rxlMCl4eKPhm2xbHt6GzZd0jLDUDTGXwpcGpfI_I664qzSe5U6kUDY/s1600/IMG_2798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvlwtv1i_e3dsbreXU6YjG5VY6SZjCJItpUvZJOWU83EtCWUNb-efOxO2STRPP9aILVJEDxFLkBRT9GcBJj4i-rxlMCl4eKPhm2xbHt6GzZd0jLDUDTGXwpcGpfI_I664qzSe5U6kUDY/s1600/IMG_2798.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Rah, rah! Sis-Boom-Bah!" Cheering at her food!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We are all having so much fun watching her personality emerge and blossom. It's particularly fun when we figure out something new that makes her laugh or that she likes and Emmie says, "Mama, look! That made her smile! She liked that!" Emmie and Rosie are continuing to enjoy their new little sister. Sometimes they love on her so hard that we have to remind them not to squash her. Although, at the rate she's eating, soon enough she'll be able to squash them!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3q9WIbzQkf1YOyW6K-IWQg3SQndnfRxZqbGwF4uSz9hZNp6oPv6WbEnYszkfvWxg5Of0D_1wkdW-AM-y_wvpxQUkDLUynoTr4QtTuyUuDxugNWpeada1AzUGcagoJ4uIF3H7gv-POiVc/s1600/IMG_2925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3q9WIbzQkf1YOyW6K-IWQg3SQndnfRxZqbGwF4uSz9hZNp6oPv6WbEnYszkfvWxg5Of0D_1wkdW-AM-y_wvpxQUkDLUynoTr4QtTuyUuDxugNWpeada1AzUGcagoJ4uIF3H7gv-POiVc/s1600/IMG_2925.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First bowl of spaghetti. An amazing amount fell on her bib, an<br />
even more amazing amount went in her belly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-42643243205628378302015-01-25T08:01:00.000-08:002015-01-29T14:28:59.549-08:00Home a monthIt's been a month since we came home with Francesca. I won't lie, because the point of this blog is to be honest. It has been a bumpy ride.<br />
<br />
First, I should start out by saying that there are lots of happy moments of playing and laughing. Secondly, I should say that I do not expect for things to be going smoothly yet. Finally, I want to write an open letter to everyone saying, "Dear Friends: I do not routinely take pictures of our daughter when she is crying or inconsolable for hours on end. Rather than grab my camera, I try to console her or cheer her up in those moments. Therefore, she is not always happy as the blog or Facebook might imply. Neither am I. And, really, who is happy all the time, anyways? And who wants to look at pictures of grumpy people?" My hope is that this blog is a "real" medium for people to learn about our family, adoption, and thalassemia. And I wouldn't want some "newbies" to stumble on here and think, "Wow, that Linguine Lady's kids are always happy from minute one!" Because that's not how it really is.<br />
<br />
All our kids are different and beautiful in their own ways, so I hate to compare them to each other. But since comparisons are inevitable, Patrick and I are sure that Frannie has been the toughest of the nuts to crack. I don't know if it is her age, or that she hates strangers (which we were repeatedly told), or if she just wants to exercise her prerogative to take her own sweet time to warm up to us. But in any case, we are still waiting as patiently as possible for her to open her little heart to our love.<br />
<br />
Other than running over to me and hugging my legs, Francesca does not offer any affection towards me. She doesn't return hugs and squirms away from receiving them, and she turns her head away if I try to kiss her. If either of us ask her if we can kiss or hug her, she looks away. She will let us hold her and will relax briefly, but as soon as she feels herself relaxing, she will sit upright and squirm away. She does not make eye contact with Patrick and I. If I put my hand out and motion for her to put her hand in mine, she refuses, but if Emmie does the same thing, she plays along. It takes quite a bit of work to get her to laugh or giggle at Patrick and I. She is the happiest and smiliest around Emmie and Rosie, which is heartwarming to see. She laughs with them and plays with them and seems very relaxed with them. When she gets up in the morning and it's just her and I awake, I get no babbles, no smiles, and just sideways glances until Emmie or Rosie gets up. Then the babbling, smiling, and playfulness starts. I am happy about her comfort with her sisters, but I also look forward to the day when she is able to be comfortable with me.<br />
<br />
While she is not generally affectionate with me, she does like to have me around and is very comforted by my presence. She knows I feed her and take care of her, so she likes to have me nearby. For instance, at the hospital, when I stepped away for a minute and left her with the girls and our Child Life friend, she started screaming for me the second I was out of her sight. So, even though she was with her sisters who she favors, she knows I am her caretaker and protector and wants me close. She knows that her sisters are not a replacement for me. This is a good thing.<br />
<br />
Francesca seems very comforted by food. (Who isn't, right?) She will sit and eat and eat and eat long after she must be full. Sometimes as soon as she finishes a meal and I put her down, she starts crying and points to get back up. Some of this might be that she is just a good eater (which she really is!), but some of it seems a bit extreme and as if she is using her time at the table as comfort. She screams if she has to wait 15 seconds for her food to be ready, even if she's on her 3rd bowl of something and can't possibly be starving. If I try to feed her while I am up and about the kitchen doing other things, she will scream and point to my chair, wanting me to sit down and feed her and give her my undivided attention. This is when she seems to enjoy my attention the most.<br />
<br />
She is not a good sleeper right now, despite the fact that she desperately needs her sleep. I think this is because she hates her crib and does not like sleeping alone. Even though she is sharing a room with Rosie, she still would prefer have me there. But it's simply my presence and not my affection that she is looking for. If I reach in the crib to hold her hand or comfort her, she turns away. In the morning I bring her into my bed with me for some cuddle time. Sometimes she just lays there stiffly and looks up at the ceiling. Other times she'll cuddle a little bit, but she doesn't really relax or enjoy herself until Rosie gets up and climbs in bed with us.<br />
<br />
All of this is hard on a mother's heart, but this is about Francesca, not about me. I think the worst part is feeling like she is not truly happy in our home yet because I want so badly for her to be happy. Patrick and I remark that she sometimes seems "lost" or just out of sorts. That makes us feel sad. I also feel sad that she is not enjoying our hugs and attempts at comfort because, let's face it, hugs should feel good and I want her to feel good! I know in time she will lean into us instead of leaning away from our affection, but I want to be honest and say that it's hard being patient. When you give, give, give and just get a frown or diverted eyes in return, it's hard not to take it personally. And when you love your baby so very much, it's natural to want to hug them and kiss them and cuddle them without being pushed away.<br />
<br />
While we wait for her world to settle down, we will continue to patiently work at it and love on her the very best we can. At least I can look at Emmie and Rosie and know that this does get better, and that time is the only way for that to happen. And we'll continue to enjoy and photograph those special smiling, happy moments we have together. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioRkqt8v0rzsJxh2Ue0IlwEbPiVZt2FGWyTT87vqfesz9NTyXPZnh5mWVpI9fakG2NQUzsLHHYnQCTDLMOb2OFq9eENOm0SCFf8CVndRheAGXTVEfqrHNT_nnGxP67Hi69MgwLGnTT_40/s1600/IMG_2747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioRkqt8v0rzsJxh2Ue0IlwEbPiVZt2FGWyTT87vqfesz9NTyXPZnh5mWVpI9fakG2NQUzsLHHYnQCTDLMOb2OFq9eENOm0SCFf8CVndRheAGXTVEfqrHNT_nnGxP67Hi69MgwLGnTT_40/s1600/IMG_2747.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-28460750498263191082015-01-11T07:14:00.000-08:002015-01-13T10:46:25.854-08:00Life in the CocoonI think I sat down for 4 minutes tonight after dinner. Patrick was upstairs getting the girls ready for bed so I quietly snuck a piece of Christmas chocolate. Ahh...a moment to myself. And then, "Mama! We have another poo-poo!" So I swallowed down my chocolate and went upstairs to scoop the poop into the last vial to be cultured for Frannie. How timely. Now it's in quadruple biohazard bags in the fridge next to my chicken that's brining. Ah, the joys of returning home from China.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrEl4yl67heVJW6IG2nZf0u_BFTDIZGTr-lQsACOCLyMC_aE1PXc-llz-uZjYMh5PySZv95rNYasbw7mOgV3DrO9AM7B0C4xxpje4vjK4AEVamh11bYSaeYNuDLnUfr1L1guqyiE0dBA/s1600/IMG_2723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrEl4yl67heVJW6IG2nZf0u_BFTDIZGTr-lQsACOCLyMC_aE1PXc-llz-uZjYMh5PySZv95rNYasbw7mOgV3DrO9AM7B0C4xxpje4vjK4AEVamh11bYSaeYNuDLnUfr1L1guqyiE0dBA/s1600/IMG_2723.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They are the <i>real </i>joys of returning home from China.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, my initial assessment is that three little people is hard. Especially three little people aged 5 and under. Let's face it, little ones are needy. SUPER needy. And it's not as if all of a sudden Emmie and Rosie became totally independent overnight just because we brought home Francesca. Of course it feels like everyone needs parental help at the same time. So when Patrick is home, the two of us run around with our hair on fire to manage crisis after crisis--and by crisis I mean anything from a diaper blowout to needing more yogurt to getting a boo-boo to being stuck in your Frozen costume. But most of the time, I'm the one here running around...alone. Just me. That's life in the cocoon.<br />
<br />
Some people cocoon, some don't. I'm no psychologist, and I'm not equipped to discus the merits of cocooning with any sort of authority. I just know that at least on the surface, it makes total sense to us. There's this new, confused, displaced person thrown into your family and your house. She's trying to figure out where she is and who you are. It stands to reason that the more people and places you throw into the mix, the more confusing it will be. So, that's why we do it. But it's hard. Now is when I'm feeling the most out of sorts myself and like I could use a helping hand, but now is when I have to juggle it mostly on my own. I said to my mother the other day that now I totally understand why people have their mothers come and live with them or visit every day when they bring home a new baby from the hospital. There is nothing I'd like more than to have some help here. But right now I'm trying so hard to convince Francesca that I'm the real deal and win her over. ("Look at me cook! Look at me braiding your sister's hair! Look at me wipe your tushie! Look at me feeding you! Look at me playing with you! Look at me loving on all three of you!") I just don't think it's a good idea to throw much more confusion or stimulation into the mix. But staying the cocooning course is definitely the harder route.<br />
<br />
Overall I feel like I'm in slow motion. Even when Patrick's around, just getting out of the house is a challenge. Frannie will wake us up at 4:30am and with that much of a [reluctant] head start, we're still just piling in the car by 11:30. Getting to Target is a huge triumph. Last weekend we miraculously made it to the North End! (I'm still wondering if that really happened or if it was just a dream.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_GtdtAo8yaTp0VG5naz4C0Tz9zVNg_uvqU6qgqKwS3xdZWlIQrg_M1mxuzn9UgjRBnMC_nv5xSXfLn-i2yeC2gqWWG-AiDq5lw7rlv6PhV4RvMfUbo4FAe4v-3Lf2K3Tlt_viSYpAlSA/s1600/IMG_2630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_GtdtAo8yaTp0VG5naz4C0Tz9zVNg_uvqU6qgqKwS3xdZWlIQrg_M1mxuzn9UgjRBnMC_nv5xSXfLn-i2yeC2gqWWG-AiDq5lw7rlv6PhV4RvMfUbo4FAe4v-3Lf2K3Tlt_viSYpAlSA/s1600/IMG_2630.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OK. It was real. We made it to the North End for pizza.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rFGIAVdTHWY3wzZspWBUaw9i12DZjxYEuXVvzWrcwmwujJYb7lGHc4KBKBmrg4-vXeiPBCcdLfdIuWtPYnGC2x96qRWr92cCZNOQ42Fe5gV6JsCMa1FecDT05xr0cT0IZOgp8JALA7M/s1600/IMG_2647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7rFGIAVdTHWY3wzZspWBUaw9i12DZjxYEuXVvzWrcwmwujJYb7lGHc4KBKBmrg4-vXeiPBCcdLfdIuWtPYnGC2x96qRWr92cCZNOQ42Fe5gV6JsCMa1FecDT05xr0cT0IZOgp8JALA7M/s1600/IMG_2647.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Modern Pastry. Frannie loves to eat. After I took this picture, she<br />
started licking the display case. Not joking. This germophobe wanted<br />
to Purell her tongue but thought better of it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZD3wI8QDiOKmN6O4ZDFMvWNX_w3f824C-tttHorWqmBDzJrC0n_eIlqDBfWyH0xUeiQuM2L9OLb77ulvju4mLsCO7aB-jXsu9vIZn7s-_alX5RropoGdd3RMoi8p0BeyXq30h7bXx5pM/s1600/IMG_2651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZD3wI8QDiOKmN6O4ZDFMvWNX_w3f824C-tttHorWqmBDzJrC0n_eIlqDBfWyH0xUeiQuM2L9OLb77ulvju4mLsCO7aB-jXsu9vIZn7s-_alX5RropoGdd3RMoi8p0BeyXq30h7bXx5pM/s1600/IMG_2651.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Hanover Street. We enjoyed all the treats the North End has to offer.<br />
She's indoctrinated already.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75BRX6zAm0MQ-xb_iknMgmRTf89Ez4OJCvI3AEYosyHozQKMWN8YTSsi8yLkRTdU_evEAAg-5yDate-QNQtgprk5ED2znjkoiem_AwA_DISZ8bJJ-9mS12Q1M9hEsaIGe0Y2aiKEBNCE/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75BRX6zAm0MQ-xb_iknMgmRTf89Ez4OJCvI3AEYosyHozQKMWN8YTSsi8yLkRTdU_evEAAg-5yDate-QNQtgprk5ED2znjkoiem_AwA_DISZ8bJJ-9mS12Q1M9hEsaIGe0Y2aiKEBNCE/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caffe Vittoria for a mocha. For the grownups. Kids had hot cocoa.<br />
Although Frannie looks like she might have hit the espresso. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I will also be the first to admit that at least part of the problem is on my end. I mean, after Emmie and Rosie, I thought all kids started at the age of two. I'm not used to someone who wrestles me during every diaper change and who is harder to dress than an octopus. And strapping her into the car seat...don't get me started. "Cooperation" is apparently not in the vocabulary of a 16-month old.<br />
<br />
I know it's going to get better. But right now I'm feeling like I'll never be on time for anything in my life again. My house is messy, my definition of clean (hair, clothes, kids) is getting looser, and a "good night's sleep" is any night that doesn't involve a 2-hour interlude in the wee hours awake with Frannie. I consider myself to be a decent cook, and the other night was the first time since we've been home where something wasn't burnt or overcooked because I was running in 7 different directions at once. ("Don't you like the toasted garlic flavor?" has become a common question around here.) As long as no one goes missing, everyone gets the correct medications, and people have two shoes on when we leave the house (they don't have to match), I think I've had a good day.<br />
<br />
So here's to all you moms with 3, 4, 7, 12 kids...whatever it is. I don't know how you keep it together. You look so lovely in your Lulu Lemon yoga pants and perfectly straightened hair. I looked at my hair straightener this morning and wondered if I could use it to quickly remove wrinkles from the pants I've been wearing for 6 days in a row, or if it would just bake in all of the different foods Frannie has dropped on them over the past week. <br />
<br />
And, for anyone who thinks I am exaggerating about my haggard existence, here is a real conversation I had the other day. Because I can't leave Frannie with anyone yet, I had her and Rosie in tow when I went to the doctor. This was my waiting room conversation:<br />
<br />
Some Guy: Wow! You have two little ones there, huh?<br />
Me: [Um, duh. You can count to two. Great.] Yes! They are 1 and 4!<br />
Some Guy: Wow! That's two little ones!<br />
Me: [Oh, my goodness again with the "two". I KNOW YOU CAN COUNT TO TWO.] Well, actually there's another who is at Pre-K. She's 5.<br />
Some Guy: Three of them!!! <b>Jeez...no wonder you look so worn out!</b><br />
<br />
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-22710531033961360612015-01-09T21:12:00.000-08:002015-01-09T21:18:20.413-08:00Three YearsFrom terrified little girl...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6pDqRCnNu0ZTg3ZqR9NZvSLIvA1tPmui4arm2q3sU-dCBaEKdPfJDqeqOZ6wHq39f1eFcQjPdZI72W2MjgeHJPPbqDiGK5Spg7HHiZE2ruRrQlgSld_MXt_37ob0Zeay3N0SmfVNbh8k/s1600/IMG_1685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6pDqRCnNu0ZTg3ZqR9NZvSLIvA1tPmui4arm2q3sU-dCBaEKdPfJDqeqOZ6wHq39f1eFcQjPdZI72W2MjgeHJPPbqDiGK5Spg7HHiZE2ruRrQlgSld_MXt_37ob0Zeay3N0SmfVNbh8k/s1600/IMG_1685.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">01.09.2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
...to my little Mini-Mama...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YVx8YYuli0v8ezOir9Qn9ZJ_vOgUGgOLFuV3YQq4DEnup8wDyrBcw6e91mQDPqVU0M080UfKQQ2quuErPjBbUb49V5gyYuW7dXSyZpUVXV6DdvtRkndzkqEHS5HkXDsOduuA6Jo0hKw/s1600/IMG_2765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YVx8YYuli0v8ezOir9Qn9ZJ_vOgUGgOLFuV3YQq4DEnup8wDyrBcw6e91mQDPqVU0M080UfKQQ2quuErPjBbUb49V5gyYuW7dXSyZpUVXV6DdvtRkndzkqEHS5HkXDsOduuA6Jo0hKw/s1600/IMG_2765.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">01.09.2015</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Emmie has brought us more joy than we could have ever imagined. She was the first of three best decisions my husband and I have ever made. She is beautiful inside and out, has a perfect heart and is an old soul. She is sensitive and compassionate, stubborn and silly. She is smart as a whip, and has a bit of a temper. Imaginative, brave, girly, and friendly...she tests us hard and loves us harder.<br />
<br />
When I think about her rough beginnings as an orphan, and our humble beginnings as a family, my heart swells with such love, pride, and happiness that it almost stops my breath. This amazing little girl--and all of our amazing little girls--have changed our lives in every way, and all for the better. I don't know what I ever did to get so lucky, but I am forever thankful.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPZlbTPrhLxx77QNmL-1wbHZhQ000ujBKgkCXd39lMokixhG2tGkmirpxseTpd7V5Z-lpxPncr1GuFwjRVcgSmbDVfEmYWihHuei_5nGhhJ_tkTaUb7MZBV23RsnwsEwXn0Ni5jqIaiM/s1600/IMG_2751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPZlbTPrhLxx77QNmL-1wbHZhQ000ujBKgkCXd39lMokixhG2tGkmirpxseTpd7V5Z-lpxPncr1GuFwjRVcgSmbDVfEmYWihHuei_5nGhhJ_tkTaUb7MZBV23RsnwsEwXn0Ni5jqIaiM/s1600/IMG_2751.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For her special day, Emmie wanted to go to Build-A-Bear<br />to get some new duds for her teddy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So Happy Emmie Day, to the little girl who made me a mother for the first time. I don't want to think about what my life would be like without you as my daughter.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEfqQZpWnKmmSqATGYUAQT6vNvngeAIy3e5usXpVMvlDtWHNmfqavwFsU0fusuTw1Cvm5-gGliCdSq89M7NYWou-xD09ke3iJiN7i9ZgUoppG2BsreaZGplo_Ls4sedGCKxhca_CuU2U/s1600/IMG_2758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEfqQZpWnKmmSqATGYUAQT6vNvngeAIy3e5usXpVMvlDtWHNmfqavwFsU0fusuTw1Cvm5-gGliCdSq89M7NYWou-xD09ke3iJiN7i9ZgUoppG2BsreaZGplo_Ls4sedGCKxhca_CuU2U/s1600/IMG_2758.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course my girly-girl picked the frilliest dress she could find!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-60318668835901822292015-01-04T20:49:00.000-08:002015-01-07T21:19:49.591-08:00Santa came!When we agreed to travel to China to pick up Francesca and return on Christmas day, we knew that there was no way Santa was going to be able to visit our house on schedule. <span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">So we explained to Emmie and Rosie that sometimes Santa ha</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">s to make a special trip to families who can't be somewhere where they can get their presents on Christmas Day...like at 38,000 feet on an airplane from China. We promised them that our elf, Frosty, would watch our family carefully after we returned home so he could tell Santa when we were all healthy, over jet lag, and Frannie was reasonably settled in so he could make his trip back here. Feeling like those criteria were met, Frosty gave the nod to Santa last night.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span>
When we told the girls that Saturday was our Christmas Eve, they were so super excited...it didn't make one ounce of difference to them that Santa was coming a little late. They understood that we had something more important to do on the "real" Christmas. As if on cue, the snow started falling Saturday night. Emmie and Rosie broke out into "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" and insisted that Rudolph would really have to use that red nose to light Santa's way back to our house. The girls got a plate of goodies ready for Santa and the reindeer and we read "The Night Before Christmas" because, for us, it was the night before Christmas. As the five of us sat around our tree, for the zillionth time Patrick and I knew that we had made the right decision to get Francesca before Christmas. Even though our holiday season was far from "normal", it was perfect in it's own way.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUqvzc2doQjjmA8jLZ9v_YaIzLjWQa8dyyHGNagbFPZYi0T1j5D8Ia-AHoeIuc4dXC3i4CGhTO96gXKggxuR-T5xXFXUMdXoOksweweGi2hLhe_Vv8IpkMJNQN9KZxhDhLXC3KPXHpyo/s1600/IMG_2657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUqvzc2doQjjmA8jLZ9v_YaIzLjWQa8dyyHGNagbFPZYi0T1j5D8Ia-AHoeIuc4dXC3i4CGhTO96gXKggxuR-T5xXFXUMdXoOksweweGi2hLhe_Vv8IpkMJNQN9KZxhDhLXC3KPXHpyo/s1600/IMG_2657.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Christmas Eve." Frannie was so excited and she didn't even know what she was being excited about!<br />Maybe she just thought that huge cupcake from Mike's in the North End was for her.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHmDSVSWAD-dl6tXhCXWMAhn7Z1Z7ErWyR91Q9HQV_bO2_Z6MAy6v9bINXQndLY1MnYlzINA1v8O7Ru3PTEklx4NyjqGh3zWeWLOR8mlGA4DN_-f9j6jNROGL8W0cmvmnWpOfqujmaRo/s1600/IMG_2675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHmDSVSWAD-dl6tXhCXWMAhn7Z1Z7ErWyR91Q9HQV_bO2_Z6MAy6v9bINXQndLY1MnYlzINA1v8O7Ru3PTEklx4NyjqGh3zWeWLOR8mlGA4DN_-f9j6jNROGL8W0cmvmnWpOfqujmaRo/s1600/IMG_2675.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The closest thing I could get to a photo of Frannie. I'm not sure if she knew what<br />was going on, but she stayed very busy with all of her new toys.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENUcmDa6pN8FoPY7C_pDWdgCxqXtpt5qJZ0PbNtRuaf_2HEY42elNA__qO58Lmilb8WAF9I7YMiUHy_Qh-T5XuHQOwm-8BJKgn3Hs5z0BhgwsDf7J45Su3u4f47ijVztlmBXJ2djskAo/s1600/IMG_2712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENUcmDa6pN8FoPY7C_pDWdgCxqXtpt5qJZ0PbNtRuaf_2HEY42elNA__qO58Lmilb8WAF9I7YMiUHy_Qh-T5XuHQOwm-8BJKgn3Hs5z0BhgwsDf7J45Su3u4f47ijVztlmBXJ2djskAo/s1600/IMG_2712.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did they get Elsa and Anna dresses? Of course they did. But they spent most<br />of the day wearing their new firefighter outfits and putting out fires. Love my gals!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-3538800964078845572014-12-31T17:22:00.000-08:002015-01-04T09:50:24.976-08:00New Us, New YearOur first week home is behind is, and has gone reasonably well. The medical stuff has been a little rough, but given that some families travel home with their children on oxygen and are met at the airport by an ambulance, I'm not going to complain.<br />
<br />
Frannie was pale. Paler than I've ever seen myself or one of my girls. There wasn't a hint of pink anywhere on her. Each time we brought home one of our girls, the first order of business has been to get them in for labs ASAP. You just never know what the actual transfusion status of your child is until you get them checked yourself. So after 28 hours of travel and one jet lagged night of sleep we headed to the hospital to get Frannie's labs checked. To top it off, I headed to the doctor because I was having trouble breathing. My oxygen saturation was low so I had a nebulizer treatment and some labs done myself.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpBn3gIbROxfLeuJcf2x1x_e9t1TjY9ZZTa6ts718E6Pq85H9D0Ql6ev7jUXeOUTUrbom3Cslf2wtScJuGhMRXC6Dr2G4jg0XDrDTi1r49pypuMQ_Qf_LMUr_Uq3QGrG1oqXjb2uwtoU/s1600/IMG_2554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpBn3gIbROxfLeuJcf2x1x_e9t1TjY9ZZTa6ts718E6Pq85H9D0Ql6ev7jUXeOUTUrbom3Cslf2wtScJuGhMRXC6Dr2G4jg0XDrDTi1r49pypuMQ_Qf_LMUr_Uq3QGrG1oqXjb2uwtoU/s1600/IMG_2554.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First blood draw about 15 hours after returning home.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylOfiS3W0J-kXPKpTDImBJ_7uyeAKjIrhvbHIWhkTgEY6_44iUNkOUTz4NNDQShZc_ykPmMgm_T-jO6cky00H_8_b-KI2aK2NkZIzn0FkwfBNRjvBEHqAYCLNHbw6PrMO6YzG00_4btE/s1600/IMG_2557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylOfiS3W0J-kXPKpTDImBJ_7uyeAKjIrhvbHIWhkTgEY6_44iUNkOUTz4NNDQShZc_ykPmMgm_T-jO6cky00H_8_b-KI2aK2NkZIzn0FkwfBNRjvBEHqAYCLNHbw6PrMO6YzG00_4btE/s1600/IMG_2557.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big girl did a great job.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Later in the day we got both of our labs back and none of them were good. Poor Frannie's hemoglobin was at a critical level of 5.9 g/dL. My labs came back and while my hemoglobin was decent, I had an elevated d-dimer test, which is a screening test for a blood clot. So while we were working out a plan for getting Frannie blood--and getting it fast--I headed into the Emergency Department with my dad for a CT scan to determine whether I was having a pulmonary embolism. [Thal lesson for the day: The reason for the worry is because patients with thal intermedia are at an increased risk for thrombosis, and the risk is even higher in asplenic patients. So, everyone was a bit alarmed.] Exhausted, nervous for Frannie, nervous for myself, and generally miserable I spent 5 hours waiting for the scan and results, which were thankfully negative. It turned out I simply had a horrible case of bronchitis, which would need to be treated outpatient with nebulizer treatments for the next few days. My dreamy visions of our first days home singing "Getting to Know You", cuddling on the couch, and playing was quickly getting replaced by our usual return-from-China reality which has always included emergency appointments for myself and our new addition.<br />
<br />
So for Frannie, our infusion unit was booked up and understaffed due to people being on holiday. Because it was urgent for her to get blood, she was admitted to the hospital for the day on Sunday for a transfusion. Getting blood on the floor as an inpatient takes much longer than in our infusion unit, so we were there for a 9 hour day even though she had her type/screen already done. Hematology came by and said that while pale, Frannie looked good. They also noted that even though she was getting a big transfusion, because she was so low it wouldn't bring her up to where she need to be. So, we'll need to return soon for additional blood before she can get on a normal schedule. Frannie did remarkably well at her transfusion, despite the fact that she was stuck three times.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhqfWr5sO2fAEhF85lfnmgiV9jKRFgaDjaaGJbSKDVvZibRCijpW9ZXotp6KfS3W_VDpXNFTuvi8ax94FskRweJUd5uZy-1lsBOAmJlavo4lR7MGUYFYITeuLOOc_INm_b7ogQgpjXSU/s1600/IMG_2560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhqfWr5sO2fAEhF85lfnmgiV9jKRFgaDjaaGJbSKDVvZibRCijpW9ZXotp6KfS3W_VDpXNFTuvi8ax94FskRweJUd5uZy-1lsBOAmJlavo4lR7MGUYFYITeuLOOc_INm_b7ogQgpjXSU/s1600/IMG_2560.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pale and very anemic, but otherwise doing great.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmRwMFbDMbOVs90U7_jrCR4RBpwZF7BRVk4duZZdlK5gOQf_VQlQeBI1w8paRP55kUKwCaL8z4nX-2xUrhJk-QE1fBdZS_025r0_auryyWmgsO9kHwQ5jaWTpgEEiVeEERe1SC-tZlXI/s1600/IMG_2561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmRwMFbDMbOVs90U7_jrCR4RBpwZF7BRVk4duZZdlK5gOQf_VQlQeBI1w8paRP55kUKwCaL8z4nX-2xUrhJk-QE1fBdZS_025r0_auryyWmgsO9kHwQ5jaWTpgEEiVeEERe1SC-tZlXI/s1600/IMG_2561.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blood flowing after three sticks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7alUpgVmc5X70aZgl4ViP2Z-XnMsX-PlnOpYrXxhSmw__HzJuK2SJ_VDBsVGyk6kwRjLC0TEa7-gnjhkeM-rHwH7m5U7HRXTbZbYnEvEG84Vu_TBJnWPGvKyMV5nCEu8C2snm42mpL4Q/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7alUpgVmc5X70aZgl4ViP2Z-XnMsX-PlnOpYrXxhSmw__HzJuK2SJ_VDBsVGyk6kwRjLC0TEa7-gnjhkeM-rHwH7m5U7HRXTbZbYnEvEG84Vu_TBJnWPGvKyMV5nCEu8C2snm42mpL4Q/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emmie and Rosie having a little fun time with Baba while we<br />
were at the hospital. (And by having fun, I mean going to the supermarket.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next few days were full of more medical appointments for my bronchitis, for Frannie's bronchitis and first check-up with the pediatrician, and for the girls' transfusion. It was feeling a little difficult to spend any time as a "normal" family because someone was always at the doctor. Still in the little calm time we had at home, Frannie was definitely starting to settle in. Right from that first night home, she started exploring around our house, testing out the toys, and learning where things are kept. She quickly figured out which seat at the table was hers and where the snacks are. When it is time to go out and she sees Emmie and Rosie get their shoes, she'll go and get hers and bring them to me. She's been making herself right at home, which really makes us happy. <br />
<br />
Frannie has a few pet peeves in her new home. She doesn't like her crib, and fights sleep with all her might. It's been impossible to put her down for a nap, resulting in sheer exhaustion later in the day. She protests when we put her in the crib at night. She is also very anxious around meal time. She screams and cries and pounds her tray while she waits for me to bring her food to her. If she wasn't as plump as she is, I would think that she did not get enough food and was left hungry. And she *hates* when I have to leave the house for a minute. Which is unfortunate, because normally at this stage I would never leave the house for one single second, but I have had no choice because of the medical stuff.<br />
<br />
Most of the time, Frannie seems quite happy. She is a great imitator and definitely a bright little girl. She likes to play alone, with us, and with the girls. Sometimes she just watches her sisters' crazy games and smiles at them. Other times she joins right in pretend cooking or chasing each other around the house. She likes to color, have pretend tea parties, and knock towers of blocks over. During one of our typical family dance parties, at first she just sat there and looked at us like we were crazy, but then she took my hands and joined in, laughing. She is slowly warming up to us. While she doesn't spontaneously offer hugs or kisses to us yet (and I wouldn't expect her to), sometimes she comes up to me and puts her arms around my legs and presses her head between my knees. When she looks up at me, she has the sweetest smile on her face. She is quickly taking over as the best eater in our house (well, not better than Baba). She tries anything. The only thing we've come across that she didn't like was a crinkle cut fry in the Executive Lounge at the Holiday Inn Shifu, and tonight she spit out a brussel sprout. She likes hummus, pork tenderloin, and pastina, and I have had to really ramp up my chicken congee production. The only problem with her eating is that she wants to do it all the time!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_QP4HsJA-7LaAhESPieISEstMkHTq4hdd18kkWeCwGUAMA-b9gqhiNtLdvyLvOC53NOnjPPbUejD_KXb2osESmDtLEJXd_z3HUbY2FQcvvBGWywpVoZB76TjZcXZqD3DnuGRblb3mI0/s1600/IMG_2566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_QP4HsJA-7LaAhESPieISEstMkHTq4hdd18kkWeCwGUAMA-b9gqhiNtLdvyLvOC53NOnjPPbUejD_KXb2osESmDtLEJXd_z3HUbY2FQcvvBGWywpVoZB76TjZcXZqD3DnuGRblb3mI0/s1600/IMG_2566.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very happy once the food is on her tray.<br />
Like her sisters, she loves Nana's chicken soup.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Emmie and Rosie continue to amaze me with their maturity when it comes to our new family member. It's not easy to have a new person touching all of your stuff, in your personal space, and vying for your parents' attention. But they are handing it with such grace, sharing with her, playing with her, and trying to love on her. It is so funny to watch how taken they are with her "baby-ness" in both positive and negative ways. Emmie keeps talking about how excited she is to show off her baby sister when she returns to pre-K and Rosie wants to try to help feed her. But Emmie also says things like, "Mama, she's disgusting putting chocolate cookies in hummus." And they are fascinated with her needs like diaper changing. One day, poor Frannie was having some tummy troubles from all of the changes in her diet, and as a result had some diaper rash. Rosie-who thinks she has to assist every diaper change-saw how sad Frannie was as we were getting ready to put on more Desitin so she stroked her face and sang to her:<br />
<br />
Oh, baby sister Frannie<br />
Don't you cry<br />
Mama will make you feel better<br />
When she rubs that yogurt on your tushie<br />
<br />
So that sort of sums up our crazy family, and our crazy first week. Throw in a random high fever, a bout of terrible hives, a goopy eye, and some sort of irritation on her face, and that's Frannie's welcome to America. She is such joy, and we are all really enjoying having a baby in the house for the first time. And we're happy to report that we are all feeling better, and that the jet lag has begun to subside. Hopefully the medical stuff will continue to settle down, and then the fun will really begin.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtw8DnPb59Qhw9IYy2ppm0ECz8i8g9xdMMwDjR7M13fmZq84YoHIwmWrP492mjWcMVOcaYTFHw20uXyxVYkpmZuZn7yLbUbALRmlExohMNI3kN_Gep49hjS8vDPIhpNypJ4nCJzUAx5h0/s1600/IMG_2589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtw8DnPb59Qhw9IYy2ppm0ECz8i8g9xdMMwDjR7M13fmZq84YoHIwmWrP492mjWcMVOcaYTFHw20uXyxVYkpmZuZn7yLbUbALRmlExohMNI3kN_Gep49hjS8vDPIhpNypJ4nCJzUAx5h0/s1600/IMG_2589.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gals getting new blood on New Years Eve.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NvTnwwhZABaPu0Z4hQI77bnFbJOhuXQgi5VFcLBC6imkceOPmPNRTZvB33ERVsFvIyw5ecui_XW5rJZc86_STJ0xyDkkXo0jL9fkb8PxbMTN2m_E9maYxcDY-DvPZxq9qIq_riFx4Tk/s1600/IMG_2597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NvTnwwhZABaPu0Z4hQI77bnFbJOhuXQgi5VFcLBC6imkceOPmPNRTZvB33ERVsFvIyw5ecui_XW5rJZc86_STJ0xyDkkXo0jL9fkb8PxbMTN2m_E9maYxcDY-DvPZxq9qIq_riFx4Tk/s1600/IMG_2597.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The five of us all snuggled in, feeling better, and ready to celebrate<br />
New Years Eve (ie, Eat snacks, have a dance party, say we're going to watch a movie,<br />
and then pass out at 8:35pm. Perhaps we are NOT over the jet lag yet.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-13126706242610858672014-12-25T06:59:00.000-08:002015-01-01T07:00:59.325-08:00And so...I hate to leave you all hanging. All three readers. But, as you probably know whether you've adopted or know someone who has, or, heck, just traveled to China...the trip and re-entry tends to be a tad bit bumpy.<br />
<br />
So after a really fun Christmas Eve and late night packing, we left the Shifu at 5am on Christmas Day to start the very long journey home. Door to door it was about 28 hours of travel. Leaving China with a new family member is always sad and happy for us. It breaks my heart to think about what had to happen to this little perfect baby in order for her to be ours. But I know that given her circumstances, becoming our daughter is the best thing that could have happened. Especially for us. We are the lucky ones.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxSzteumHJjVmAevgbFRFr65F5y7CSrmXDiYfoMZTCalF53gYW_6rrU1k-tfAu7vgevm4BMVZDBkgilQWO_Y7KL50CfnTuBU6M1-REDZsGFSVHghkwZWBKrVgczYQLIlULhCOC5QVWdw/s1600/IMG_2509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxSzteumHJjVmAevgbFRFr65F5y7CSrmXDiYfoMZTCalF53gYW_6rrU1k-tfAu7vgevm4BMVZDBkgilQWO_Y7KL50CfnTuBU6M1-REDZsGFSVHghkwZWBKrVgczYQLIlULhCOC5QVWdw/s1600/IMG_2509.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas breakfast at Hong Kong airport Tsui Wah.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUatKx62mT5zQ2cLgodl_FX_0IxZUo9lzKIr0BDS_B1o0ixRZEtlevVhcRkoimZ1-P9rDkP_xIBZm7eqqJuAeOjIKoItMVEQAieqRXg5Vmr-MDcWF5RimLx0UxBBJcIBlzTpLStvdLM0/s1600/IMG_2512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUatKx62mT5zQ2cLgodl_FX_0IxZUo9lzKIr0BDS_B1o0ixRZEtlevVhcRkoimZ1-P9rDkP_xIBZm7eqqJuAeOjIKoItMVEQAieqRXg5Vmr-MDcWF5RimLx0UxBBJcIBlzTpLStvdLM0/s1600/IMG_2512.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZV1wxOOFHPqcDgHMjVvWY4w2pp8H3JemxLFlD250gaxeFnSF7cvHSsk3J4gsJk074YO-9vKxGONsjZmtTNk-PR-Nu_9A_BRxC_z3vW0kLOl3XdsUErz8urx0mGK2kiVgleRr3s4Tr7mY/s1600/IMG_2524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZV1wxOOFHPqcDgHMjVvWY4w2pp8H3JemxLFlD250gaxeFnSF7cvHSsk3J4gsJk074YO-9vKxGONsjZmtTNk-PR-Nu_9A_BRxC_z3vW0kLOl3XdsUErz8urx0mGK2kiVgleRr3s4Tr7mY/s1600/IMG_2524.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodbye, China.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJukZUxxiox1_3gvsLtbsaXHN0L8VDOpMlK-d1YsBTDgIpRYjdkhLzcMBk51U1jk2UE4BmDriTdTtuDT_JfN4IHZaIRO-uxwd6mCJH18gYtyFSYE9mJub33Iknci-lVO3P6B0tVhciiWI/s1600/IMG_2527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJukZUxxiox1_3gvsLtbsaXHN0L8VDOpMlK-d1YsBTDgIpRYjdkhLzcMBk51U1jk2UE4BmDriTdTtuDT_JfN4IHZaIRO-uxwd6mCJH18gYtyFSYE9mJub33Iknci-lVO3P6B0tVhciiWI/s1600/IMG_2527.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do not be fooled and think that the entire plane ride was this peaceful.<br />
Or, that even 10% of the entire plane ride was this peaceful.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtrA3c73eSucZ0mbFLD0b5wgInDkT5PJMcvI1iNdFecMJW9PQxpZT0YPlMSTiMTmTsMuq2a_MpIuMESD8RtEJXO1LuUqq-ErJMrL_rEO1ZmffFD_L1Sl6Byk7GyR4qOg_dKn2Thu5My70/s1600/IMG_2531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtrA3c73eSucZ0mbFLD0b5wgInDkT5PJMcvI1iNdFecMJW9PQxpZT0YPlMSTiMTmTsMuq2a_MpIuMESD8RtEJXO1LuUqq-ErJMrL_rEO1ZmffFD_L1Sl6Byk7GyR4qOg_dKn2Thu5My70/s1600/IMG_2531.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The first flight while long (13+ hours) went reasonably well. The big girls slept on and off and were able to be entertained with videos. The baby, on the other hand, was able to be entertained by...nothing. Wriggling and wrestling me for hours on end was about it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZvb9stDPvVHlUidm4ueh8gJHAglu84kEEqhR3n4AE_FCYw8gEK4KgfS6ezW83fBRsbM60x7d7SZMHxUJLQJPmp_v05eojMQ75ASmaiH3vQHi7Oaj-AQUqwDNuRf4h-5SXFA38vH4XNPE/s1600/IMG_2535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZvb9stDPvVHlUidm4ueh8gJHAglu84kEEqhR3n4AE_FCYw8gEK4KgfS6ezW83fBRsbM60x7d7SZMHxUJLQJPmp_v05eojMQ75ASmaiH3vQHi7Oaj-AQUqwDNuRf4h-5SXFA38vH4XNPE/s1600/IMG_2535.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Christmas Feast at 38,000 feet!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtmIkZgdHeCWCX4iPCREAv4plkX4P61EE0RHElZwZkEqGtkwRSgWgvUCWK0tWtLqVeQNu5WMdL5NKcG352dyUammAI77b6i-JcNUvfGRcACoYTlrLPh_7srGAA_oZshdxSIbf1LE3AJo/s1600/IMG_2537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtmIkZgdHeCWCX4iPCREAv4plkX4P61EE0RHElZwZkEqGtkwRSgWgvUCWK0tWtLqVeQNu5WMdL5NKcG352dyUammAI77b6i-JcNUvfGRcACoYTlrLPh_7srGAA_oZshdxSIbf1LE3AJo/s1600/IMG_2537.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snacks, snacks, and more snacks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our third daughter officially became a US citizen when we landed in Chicago. By this time, I was clearly coming down with her bronchitis, so I was barely able to utter a cheer, never mind break out into the National Anthem. It was a little different this time than with Emmie and Rosie. Instead of the officer simply taking the hallowed Brown Envelope and sending us on our way, he ushered us into a back room at Immigration. I overheard an officer say to another individual there, "Your fingerprints showed up in our system. Do you want to explain the reason that might be?" Another man was sitting there with his head in his lap, nearly in tears. There were several interview rooms and for whatever stupid reason I got nervous thinking that they were going to ask me some questions I was not prepared for. As it turns out, they went through our paperwork (and several other adoptive families returning home) pretty quickly. We went through that annoying pick up your bags/recheck your bags scenario, rode a train for what felt like the entire length of the Red Line, and then relaxed for the rest of our 4 hour layover. Well, as much as you can relax in an airport, feeling completely filthy, tired, and unable to breathe from bronchitis.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlyKy3PYpkvkXd9UqVWgVOpSKfoAmCYhJ40sKp2eyyPSOKhcCEdCWlL2r1cVJgXJmMN9MImR3UDiDiodXPckThcHbiD7rF8Jx7-n3xlJhYAujArvrwjLrrN4xkfh3aNYJBYAM0wSZvI1M/s1600/IMG_2542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlyKy3PYpkvkXd9UqVWgVOpSKfoAmCYhJ40sKp2eyyPSOKhcCEdCWlL2r1cVJgXJmMN9MImR3UDiDiodXPckThcHbiD7rF8Jx7-n3xlJhYAujArvrwjLrrN4xkfh3aNYJBYAM0wSZvI1M/s1600/IMG_2542.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas dinner part deux--McDonalds at O'Hare.<br />
We were all feeling pretty beaten down at this point.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The last leg of our journey probably felt the longest. We were all so tired we felt crazed. The kids were inconsolable. Patrick was still feeling crummy from the end of his latest illness, and I was getting sicker by the minute with Frannie's bronchitis. With my ears feeling like ice picks being stabbed in them, we descended into Boston's Logan International Airport and I had the same twinge in my stomach I've felt twice before. This is it. Here we are. I can see the Pru. There's Boston Harbor. Those are the streets we walk on when we go into the city. The city we love is the same, but we are returning different. And I feel scared. Nervous that I am enough mother for this little person who deserves the very best. Worried for her health. Anxious about her tiny heart as it heals. But we are not only different...we are better. Better for what we have experienced. Better because our hearts are fuller than ever with love for these three girls. "Welcome to Boston. The local time is..." And before I know it we make that surreal walk through the airport +1, our weary selves are greeted by our family and we are home.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQsGW24QCzyneEOgZRKRgzHZNzJUZV2-F7B-0n6WwPEjlQp6zZxZpShH6m3vpUAwW33TYSbYIioqzlnfgGWW656vrq64oXOPjM87MpwxNI44gz6HIsHiE3msmVs-8tHRpAKisTq8Tx-0/s1600/IMG_2544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQsGW24QCzyneEOgZRKRgzHZNzJUZV2-F7B-0n6WwPEjlQp6zZxZpShH6m3vpUAwW33TYSbYIioqzlnfgGWW656vrq64oXOPjM87MpwxNI44gz6HIsHiE3msmVs-8tHRpAKisTq8Tx-0/s1600/IMG_2544.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Impromptu late night Christmas Dinner redux. This time with *real* food<br />
courtesy of my mother and sister! We have another meatball lover!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-73020667504613118732014-12-24T08:57:00.000-08:002014-12-24T08:57:29.045-08:00Twas the Night Before ChristmasI never, ever thought I'd be spending a Christmas Eve in China. But here we are, after a busy day with our bags all packed and three little elves all tucked in their beds. <i>Three </i>little elves. Three perfect little blessings. The best Christmas presents in the world don't come in a box. They cry, they giggle, they pout, they snuggle. They bring the joy of Christmas every day. They are our girls.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbvCOqfk1cH1sbDMEeiNbb0g4KQ66iDYG1Ji4MNssQafDjEk8Dtuz-3jVKPj1Zsn4NZs0EKrIjVy3prdfKggLvJfe4vPQON-94V4dyVGGUihYSVm3MtK07WkQL6FdGsu7v1kc6dbnvvk/s1600/IMG_2485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbvCOqfk1cH1sbDMEeiNbb0g4KQ66iDYG1Ji4MNssQafDjEk8Dtuz-3jVKPj1Zsn4NZs0EKrIjVy3prdfKggLvJfe4vPQON-94V4dyVGGUihYSVm3MtK07WkQL6FdGsu7v1kc6dbnvvk/s1600/IMG_2485.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Frannie has already changed so much since the day we met her with the crazy hair hat on. We are seeing more and more of her personality every day. She is funny and fun, but she also has quite the little temper on her. She wants to be held by me or in the carrier constantly. She's starting to show some affection, and snuggles into me when I hold her. I want to smother her beautiful baby face with kisses.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking a lot tonight about the changes that are still in store for our new daughter. I remember well when Emmie--who had just started to settle down a little at the end of her adoption trip--walked into our house and started to cry. It was as if she was saying, "Not this again. Stop changing things on me." For months after returning home she was terrified every night. I would lay in her room for hours and hours every night until she fell asleep. So I can't help but worry for Frannie, who has seemed to settle in to our routine here in China. I hate the thought of her feeling scared when we mix up her scenery yet again. It's OK to be hopeful, but it's foolish to think that the hard part is behind us. Not to mention the fact that the day after returning home and jetlagged, we'll already be at the hospital getting her lab work done, which is sure to be traumatic.<br />
<br />
So Merry Christmas to everyone from China and I'll sign off with some pics from the past two days, which have really been nice family days. We are so lucky to have these girls in our lives. Wish us luck on the very long journey home!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHrtkifMiCCX6exMIWE1cKFxW7jl8HcnY5fubqyIQOvcpSOm7Qicme7uPofmYuwwo7zbCQGSzD7aMmF0II9ssBu1jdtNTO6BcR-RwsvUSyDXWRyD9O9lqf2wdmIrSvGPLifDl_4vI69U/s1600/IMG_2339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHrtkifMiCCX6exMIWE1cKFxW7jl8HcnY5fubqyIQOvcpSOm7Qicme7uPofmYuwwo7zbCQGSzD7aMmF0II9ssBu1jdtNTO6BcR-RwsvUSyDXWRyD9O9lqf2wdmIrSvGPLifDl_4vI69U/s1600/IMG_2339.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting a Buddhist temple. Patrick and I absolutely loved it and<br />everything Connie taught us.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdYTqTFqPj-fTHF72OsLAvWyQee46BkpkELNRfyKKewK0eeCvN_Hf3q0-R37q05_gqQ5054_W2Dxo3W2TBtiX4s4llm9hRlI90s8zaPD7Gr9cJYlsO4pssLhooH-b8H9r94XEHtqBMh4/s1600/IMG_2348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdYTqTFqPj-fTHF72OsLAvWyQee46BkpkELNRfyKKewK0eeCvN_Hf3q0-R37q05_gqQ5054_W2Dxo3W2TBtiX4s4llm9hRlI90s8zaPD7Gr9cJYlsO4pssLhooH-b8H9r94XEHtqBMh4/s1600/IMG_2348.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liuhua Lake park. Connie said, "I planned the temple for the adults,<br />the park for the girls." She was right on-the girls had a blast.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLo0l1hLvGN47vQoxLxZRrmcI6c7mSaEaNht7IXyDF8erFyaQuMOnwHLxOqNqb5Nuae5-iXR5Sx1OsoA7h8CTCKjS_yL4OHF8Z3k0e5Ym1FTmcGFW2BuuzDg8j1MRfmePSf0eJ19fswE/s1600/IMG_2364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLo0l1hLvGN47vQoxLxZRrmcI6c7mSaEaNht7IXyDF8erFyaQuMOnwHLxOqNqb5Nuae5-iXR5Sx1OsoA7h8CTCKjS_yL4OHF8Z3k0e5Ym1FTmcGFW2BuuzDg8j1MRfmePSf0eJ19fswE/s1600/IMG_2364.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late night dim sum. Frannie can EAT.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVcsgBI-xln6_rOjQOhowIDXjGaaGZoeIs1QgeRcr6BDTeXrX-gB936QMCW2AMkrPur2Cq1BSqCaX-qmsOqitcNin9dp2oxw_yn4r8H4oSCdK30MgVht_n-RuDAG6HsDBtorJda-_MxM/s1600/IMG_2370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVcsgBI-xln6_rOjQOhowIDXjGaaGZoeIs1QgeRcr6BDTeXrX-gB936QMCW2AMkrPur2Cq1BSqCaX-qmsOqitcNin9dp2oxw_yn4r8H4oSCdK30MgVht_n-RuDAG6HsDBtorJda-_MxM/s1600/IMG_2370.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEZuDcZjCB3izlKOvIdHz857fs0fNewjAktzpW6-kFi9pFKJVjr3Japp2kjIZE1ELHVl46_XJar_QI2eCFkcT_OWefLh9bx9Lkc5mWNzw8TEFIrWCvnU0QXxHx8QEYQjrLrI7157DdOks/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEZuDcZjCB3izlKOvIdHz857fs0fNewjAktzpW6-kFi9pFKJVjr3Japp2kjIZE1ELHVl46_XJar_QI2eCFkcT_OWefLh9bx9Lkc5mWNzw8TEFIrWCvnU0QXxHx8QEYQjrLrI7157DdOks/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, shoot. She's hooked on Starbucks already.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACjVVHLe8i6IGJdj2tBa0cPhFu_cDAbDwEaXxcHpnKFAdPjE1J9K5D7j6XlCkm89fnE-k7lDC-vOqmUsRELtNkKNnv-x5XVFhSgRM3KUo41VBOz9Q9_uNX8fMOE5fP8vrN1RWIRdjTaA/s1600/IMG_2375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACjVVHLe8i6IGJdj2tBa0cPhFu_cDAbDwEaXxcHpnKFAdPjE1J9K5D7j6XlCkm89fnE-k7lDC-vOqmUsRELtNkKNnv-x5XVFhSgRM3KUo41VBOz9Q9_uNX8fMOE5fP8vrN1RWIRdjTaA/s1600/IMG_2375.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pure joy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2sxbrHr8ioYWV03cfyUqnaioL35cV6exwzcxy7fWN7X_krEQk1lBXSkJhlGa2NCFDGU9ZKvEPeKlY-8YYEYXJtNyJlFUbyRAsTgiKZwpitGOYG9g8muMKR01Zi05-8yxS0busDNwxZo/s1600/IMG_2384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2sxbrHr8ioYWV03cfyUqnaioL35cV6exwzcxy7fWN7X_krEQk1lBXSkJhlGa2NCFDGU9ZKvEPeKlY-8YYEYXJtNyJlFUbyRAsTgiKZwpitGOYG9g8muMKR01Zi05-8yxS0busDNwxZo/s1600/IMG_2384.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lychee Park.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZkVbuOebmY1Qud_CLnK62H4jx8GHqQRgS2GVszK-ndLF_2zYgKgV03-Vj6nA6ovGYLJ-rFkRNa-n60i36sHutm6HQJEyiFuxvaHqyzchucSZf2c-c4n02A-DmUUtO06evufARoOmZ-E/s1600/IMG_2385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZkVbuOebmY1Qud_CLnK62H4jx8GHqQRgS2GVszK-ndLF_2zYgKgV03-Vj6nA6ovGYLJ-rFkRNa-n60i36sHutm6HQJEyiFuxvaHqyzchucSZf2c-c4n02A-DmUUtO06evufARoOmZ-E/s1600/IMG_2385.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPlN8J_kIXjytxKOlEssB1lAIUI2Q4XtaB2CxteujNGDpgO7fENp7JRKhOg-gGpYa_KGpxlk9pq5IML5y1hqGDnttBsSk48ebsAbQBA8xa-ElVMtRDTb3vdD1fSIlSt6ZgvnxNOTV7gs/s1600/IMG_2390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPlN8J_kIXjytxKOlEssB1lAIUI2Q4XtaB2CxteujNGDpgO7fENp7JRKhOg-gGpYa_KGpxlk9pq5IML5y1hqGDnttBsSk48ebsAbQBA8xa-ElVMtRDTb3vdD1fSIlSt6ZgvnxNOTV7gs/s1600/IMG_2390.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrAYPwjMXQCw0VtYnF0cXWG_bgNWfR2_LHzg3ArBvm9MNbMfspfK4ThyphenhyphenKvHMXUR95bLiBKhtjiO9sY_jKmTSefc67fLH1BgHHW4mKcoF3dQiaPi6TpUydC3q7BUjZ5nlbo2b0AjNNHPM/s1600/IMG_2405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrAYPwjMXQCw0VtYnF0cXWG_bgNWfR2_LHzg3ArBvm9MNbMfspfK4ThyphenhyphenKvHMXUR95bLiBKhtjiO9sY_jKmTSefc67fLH1BgHHW4mKcoF3dQiaPi6TpUydC3q7BUjZ5nlbo2b0AjNNHPM/s1600/IMG_2405.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGMMnHaHSF8hfmbvUtFipkcKAlRiODo9wmyLJnd-KyJzrnHssXWCWYuNFmoPLwewhHTXe0cNjRvcBjxSNyyh8bf4LcDym_peaqrv3_TsxF1AJwvSv0mtWXQmboGkEPjVTEEDZU0xIvxnQ/s1600/IMG_2413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGMMnHaHSF8hfmbvUtFipkcKAlRiODo9wmyLJnd-KyJzrnHssXWCWYuNFmoPLwewhHTXe0cNjRvcBjxSNyyh8bf4LcDym_peaqrv3_TsxF1AJwvSv0mtWXQmboGkEPjVTEEDZU0xIvxnQ/s1600/IMG_2413.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXvM02TFWds2I8p2vmZko3Ny5ej6CAtJLwuzrZx2sbSdwCYWLHNePJrHWu8viT_Lki5hcdcX-mmFcuE331d-aAYsWaFDCOX35U_sZuNkypHy_HCowcu71CZ-301BzdkitnlEjCntaQZQ/s1600/IMG_2420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXvM02TFWds2I8p2vmZko3Ny5ej6CAtJLwuzrZx2sbSdwCYWLHNePJrHWu8viT_Lki5hcdcX-mmFcuE331d-aAYsWaFDCOX35U_sZuNkypHy_HCowcu71CZ-301BzdkitnlEjCntaQZQ/s1600/IMG_2420.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flower boats.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37kZrHcqWZLn-kL_SrUsUUEOPew-6R5HxBaRDNUAHdGYiG0kZeHrKl3e7uCbkMcrGXZt2ne-zcgFmi84WEvX7rqRBY5j2Y5QyJCGumuDpUCwuTKzY_Mcx7PmBef-bOrBh4uUabvElqAw/s1600/IMG_2429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37kZrHcqWZLn-kL_SrUsUUEOPew-6R5HxBaRDNUAHdGYiG0kZeHrKl3e7uCbkMcrGXZt2ne-zcgFmi84WEvX7rqRBY5j2Y5QyJCGumuDpUCwuTKzY_Mcx7PmBef-bOrBh4uUabvElqAw/s1600/IMG_2429.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a peaceful boat ride.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdpbfIPy1_vZd5Kfkp2Wa9hLaBFeLdoowmGXnDNWzble3imdLvDfN0xFNWgrs4ZQ4KVbv2Kw0kcdbgje7lUCb2m7lHM6JJ9Q_CiOFQcrqNfbdb5aQfnfgfEiZe9q1neGQTu4HwXBoAEQ/s1600/IMG_2438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdpbfIPy1_vZd5Kfkp2Wa9hLaBFeLdoowmGXnDNWzble3imdLvDfN0xFNWgrs4ZQ4KVbv2Kw0kcdbgje7lUCb2m7lHM6JJ9Q_CiOFQcrqNfbdb5aQfnfgfEiZe9q1neGQTu4HwXBoAEQ/s1600/IMG_2438.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sW0FHhTSSTu38GOt1d1k9KmCF_Ot-JKZTRQaXhxP3NeqrOPXLojEGYspjSxMZa0SCJrc1N8XF9aUgp0qMkHhx_oTdPyZKK8TfGjfVWYEJgdhJOUcV5s069WP1-Vxn4ESLdaUyo237Dw/s1600/IMG_2448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sW0FHhTSSTu38GOt1d1k9KmCF_Ot-JKZTRQaXhxP3NeqrOPXLojEGYspjSxMZa0SCJrc1N8XF9aUgp0qMkHhx_oTdPyZKK8TfGjfVWYEJgdhJOUcV5s069WP1-Vxn4ESLdaUyo237Dw/s1600/IMG_2448.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emmie performing "Let It Go" on the boat ride.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintMZTvLZ1bF3QyI-25PXrFNXpwjtdixfZ1i02xZeugR7mQsgEf24eK0YIz-Kvoki3AlPPThf6SGuuohdngo0nqn2btZuCqb2yyuslm37iRgOn_SeKVIEsTnSFnndMiO85rTP7HX_glFY/s1600/IMG_2473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintMZTvLZ1bF3QyI-25PXrFNXpwjtdixfZ1i02xZeugR7mQsgEf24eK0YIz-Kvoki3AlPPThf6SGuuohdngo0nqn2btZuCqb2yyuslm37iRgOn_SeKVIEsTnSFnndMiO85rTP7HX_glFY/s1600/IMG_2473.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super excited to get a bowl of turnip cakes. She eats and eats and eats...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8Bcf5hzN-b-4SOB1IUaVDuYO4xBedgJeU75xGhEzUp48plc3YFqcB2V1czkWWJdwxUyHIhGKS11AQomJweef8AuOKMN8A3TmkbfR87d3lYr2Su-Kosb-7J2mmk_eDD3dGkKf9V6nTuk/s1600/IMG_2479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8Bcf5hzN-b-4SOB1IUaVDuYO4xBedgJeU75xGhEzUp48plc3YFqcB2V1czkWWJdwxUyHIhGKS11AQomJweef8AuOKMN8A3TmkbfR87d3lYr2Su-Kosb-7J2mmk_eDD3dGkKf9V6nTuk/s1600/IMG_2479.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqduiLtfivHNrBFgymkJ50Vx0pSd9Dc0cbyAa3slwysixcHoQ16Mffzmeupwj7IZg0z9ylN2YN9ZoVtdqgtdGt6nqsO1ZPXnOIbdYa-FVl7ubC_BzQNe9ls1_PhycJALZ15EgV7PazrM/s1600/IMG_2481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqduiLtfivHNrBFgymkJ50Vx0pSd9Dc0cbyAa3slwysixcHoQ16Mffzmeupwj7IZg0z9ylN2YN9ZoVtdqgtdGt6nqsO1ZPXnOIbdYa-FVl7ubC_BzQNe9ls1_PhycJALZ15EgV7PazrM/s1600/IMG_2481.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbmSsFnr7swfefF8opU5zPRWsZLlarLDXz1R4SFZr5_QEW_6Xk7e-Go1HG1rQNaThyphenhyphen5x_td110mkK3wb8GwHN1uYgDyW0MBl-Cxo977-9MBN8EVsCVQKYpgEJn9Cw5rrhgxBazUDclc8/s1600/IMG_2483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbmSsFnr7swfefF8opU5zPRWsZLlarLDXz1R4SFZr5_QEW_6Xk7e-Go1HG1rQNaThyphenhyphen5x_td110mkK3wb8GwHN1uYgDyW0MBl-Cxo977-9MBN8EVsCVQKYpgEJn9Cw5rrhgxBazUDclc8/s1600/IMG_2483.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas Eve dinner. A little different than usual.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4EADpkMANHUThgrcg7DSq3YVMiqwEOx0zo_DbSoddViS77MvkmquPekvWQ3vKHASwyVc-pPRq9E70ZuiAkg509gP6bv1ueQ769mi-54fyaxPrkeKyi8_BrMLMOb4oQJq3GSyJhyphenhyphenG43E/s1600/IMG_2491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4EADpkMANHUThgrcg7DSq3YVMiqwEOx0zo_DbSoddViS77MvkmquPekvWQ3vKHASwyVc-pPRq9E70ZuiAkg509gP6bv1ueQ769mi-54fyaxPrkeKyi8_BrMLMOb4oQJq3GSyJhyphenhyphenG43E/s1600/IMG_2491.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out celebrating our last night in China and Christmas Eve.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT91-eIbb0MI4FeZuNUijYzH_4KOpXJghnDXIQA1el-iVH6GNQOCcIrEFzuhlnhJotaz_ePgw974MLGlaL9P7tL_p-wZz-E_vONpnD3id7og35M-MCWBLcb9OVz_K63aX4tb6Vazwz-Qc/s1600/IMG_2496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT91-eIbb0MI4FeZuNUijYzH_4KOpXJghnDXIQA1el-iVH6GNQOCcIrEFzuhlnhJotaz_ePgw974MLGlaL9P7tL_p-wZz-E_vONpnD3id7og35M-MCWBLcb9OVz_K63aX4tb6Vazwz-Qc/s1600/IMG_2496.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pedestrian mall area was packed with people celebrating.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVa53M-Z8rhV8BPsSpyid123gEmXU9FXOPNGcuTOreHSmYH13cIkfqU6n5nY06qyiEDhvG-7cMPelt0CQ_WRkrDjheoqOBsrHwdvOZ027A0BM2Xl3qYbRijaw9x2jE9QuTX66HuilAzkk/s1600/IMG_2497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVa53M-Z8rhV8BPsSpyid123gEmXU9FXOPNGcuTOreHSmYH13cIkfqU6n5nY06qyiEDhvG-7cMPelt0CQ_WRkrDjheoqOBsrHwdvOZ027A0BM2Xl3qYbRijaw9x2jE9QuTX66HuilAzkk/s1600/IMG_2497.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSxpYmOKDH7M59Tzz5EUi-ZggwEVwxyXmf5hR8rGvxA-sWc9j675E1TOvuXuKvtkY8wAg6svMQ1QqVCNr6y1C3jyWcOWsU0IGiooGjccxNPxydJxQe8IxMAw15Omg3I3oWL2LBo_3dlX0/s1600/IMG_2501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSxpYmOKDH7M59Tzz5EUi-ZggwEVwxyXmf5hR8rGvxA-sWc9j675E1TOvuXuKvtkY8wAg6svMQ1QqVCNr6y1C3jyWcOWsU0IGiooGjccxNPxydJxQe8IxMAw15Omg3I3oWL2LBo_3dlX0/s1600/IMG_2501.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And, of course, Baba reading "The Night Before Christmas."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-43630040886080944982014-12-22T08:56:00.000-08:002014-12-23T19:27:57.056-08:00Shopping and the Consulate<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Does Frosty the Elf visit people living in hotel rooms in China while they are adopting their third daughter? Well, of course he does!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrIJ6w_02rOtVCdRXMBV4eiaaSNYcesFdTYcD-93goXLX6bM7XU-zIhKqxkgP8mVzR8XWRV7kdioWMIVAHogKSUK9zothQ01_er8GvGCyp5OXUgMhkTZrxpBBCG0-tWvzMhKbYqjl0oJ0/s1600/IMG_2112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrIJ6w_02rOtVCdRXMBV4eiaaSNYcesFdTYcD-93goXLX6bM7XU-zIhKqxkgP8mVzR8XWRV7kdioWMIVAHogKSUK9zothQ01_er8GvGCyp5OXUgMhkTZrxpBBCG0-tWvzMhKbYqjl0oJ0/s1600/IMG_2112.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frosty flew a long way to find us.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
The girls woke up to a visit from Frosty as well as some letters from Santa sent right from Santa's Village. We are doing our best to keep the holiday spirit alive while here in China. We are so happy to see holiday decorations around and hear Christmas songs everywhere we go. (Michael Buble seems to be a favorite.) Still, it's weird spending the holiday season away from home. But holding my daughter now, I know that coming as fast as we could was absolutely the correct decision. Pushing things off and leaving her here to keep from disrupting the holidays seems so selfish. Especially when it could have snowballed into an ever longer delay due to the upcoming CCCWA computer system upgrade. I didn't bake holiday cookies or decorate as much as I usually would or get to participate in the last minute bustle. We'll be eating our Christmas dinner on a plane or in an airport food court instead of with my family who we miss very much. But I will have the best Christmas present of all right there with me. I'll be with my family and new daughter. Isn't that what Christmas is really about?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTK5J8Kk5TFjRNesTLCED82qc0wHQ5qDVPublN0OMe_JHTAujEAvuhEKbM9tcReo_j1j3zXnDGOak9KLyu-RAFlqsrWMjvda6IdHFWQKdPgFEXqJGdqyQeuCmok3F43sutBEhgCapnVTc/s1600/IMG_2117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTK5J8Kk5TFjRNesTLCED82qc0wHQ5qDVPublN0OMe_JHTAujEAvuhEKbM9tcReo_j1j3zXnDGOak9KLyu-RAFlqsrWMjvda6IdHFWQKdPgFEXqJGdqyQeuCmok3F43sutBEhgCapnVTc/s1600/IMG_2117.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baba reading letters from Santa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On Sunday, we headed out shopping with Connie. We actually were not even supposed to be with Connie on Sunday, but she admitted that she loves to shop and would be happy to join us for a half day. <br />
<br />
First we headed to a tiny jade store. It was the same jade store that Helen took us to on Emmie's adoption trip. I bought some small jade circle pendants for myself and the girls so we could all match. As an early Christmas present, we decided to get me a jade bangle, something I've thought about getting for awhile now. Connie told me that Chinese women say that if it hurts when you put it on, then it's the right size. Chinese women also never take them off, so they buy the absolute tiniest bangle then can jam on their hand. I tried a few of the larger bangles on but didn't like the way they looked so I decided to try a smaller one that I *could* take off if necessary. The jade dealer put a plastic bag around my hand and wrist and told Connie to tell me to sit down before he tried getting it on my hand. Terrified, I sat down and the owner and his wife jammed it on my hand. I wish I had a video of me squealing as they did it. They promised me I would be able to get it off with copious amounts of lotion.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMdYvQjDEUgmk9MmDDNA4Ep34CkgmyFS5hTQyYJ2AGMNdMKqQlTFFF32DSdXnzfXKJArzP4J-8vqPx7HU4bgv8uAXXQX9Sr446hl6Ytw7E2vngYd47jZHJdLYYPktToUClaYTIKZRQAQ/s1600/IMG_2125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMdYvQjDEUgmk9MmDDNA4Ep34CkgmyFS5hTQyYJ2AGMNdMKqQlTFFF32DSdXnzfXKJArzP4J-8vqPx7HU4bgv8uAXXQX9Sr446hl6Ytw7E2vngYd47jZHJdLYYPktToUClaYTIKZRQAQ/s1600/IMG_2125.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ouch!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Hand throbbing but with my lovely new jade bracelet on, we headed to the same pearl store where we got Emmie and Rosie's pearls. As soon as we walked in the owner recognized us. We all picked out a perfectly lovely strand for Frannie and watched their quick work stringing them.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RElH88iPTffOf3rJPOTSIIQ8kdxZOkHxAKiJgaHE_A1FIObBsXt7OxA2d9gY5Jpy_IcWxTlcIOQv7R_omkBonVbt8GGzKb6o67Alz_6u3APn-QtZDEsNzpE9bMaGNO3KAsPzfRaRTVM/s1600/IMG_2136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RElH88iPTffOf3rJPOTSIIQ8kdxZOkHxAKiJgaHE_A1FIObBsXt7OxA2d9gY5Jpy_IcWxTlcIOQv7R_omkBonVbt8GGzKb6o67Alz_6u3APn-QtZDEsNzpE9bMaGNO3KAsPzfRaRTVM/s1600/IMG_2136.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching intently as their little sister's pearls are strung.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our last stop was at the Government store, where we always go to buy some fancier gifts. After shopping, they treated us to a traditional tea service which we all loved.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjSSxNxW2CgTsn4uGGSVhG0YNZwyRZ7AGgqg7C063xWUGySRlbjg206cx4UQxM_a2Vu3xPIqmAiA3oHDQElnKOzGF0APskQQMZCyOzktDCoCDfQwh5PK-ZT6mwkZVfMC8KBsX69CnGdYo/s1600/IMG_2151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjSSxNxW2CgTsn4uGGSVhG0YNZwyRZ7AGgqg7C063xWUGySRlbjg206cx4UQxM_a2Vu3xPIqmAiA3oHDQElnKOzGF0APskQQMZCyOzktDCoCDfQwh5PK-ZT6mwkZVfMC8KBsX69CnGdYo/s1600/IMG_2151.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
After a quick ramen break in the room and some playtime, we headed out to stroll Shamian Island. We took the now-familiar walk through the pet and spice markets full of noises and smells and crowds to the quiet and relaxing island.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBnFPcVUAomYuFY8toDd_8J-d7pBTabDB4VrjjgFje6am0HNNkU5qRBDNdGJqBFvqWPcyWhK7L5Qj84igx0l1kbMYIf7WB_9BlhRuPqsulI6-4BRRtg0Gpq-VGQKTk8meH6NViUk39Wlk/s1600/IMG_2161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBnFPcVUAomYuFY8toDd_8J-d7pBTabDB4VrjjgFje6am0HNNkU5qRBDNdGJqBFvqWPcyWhK7L5Qj84igx0l1kbMYIf7WB_9BlhRuPqsulI6-4BRRtg0Gpq-VGQKTk8meH6NViUk39Wlk/s1600/IMG_2161.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We've eaten a lot of noodles around this table over the years.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4ZifudzJAk88vWioZ_7QonFVa3PWYc9ti6jSQZnyxZCLJ1q8LGEuYSlTcp6salvIjZcFfaQ1TTHC6KVCVAP_5tZ4P_xKnFTYM_Df-6jwQYKBSJFE2ls1tFnVJQru99dAqEMcwvcfov8/s1600/IMG_2172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4ZifudzJAk88vWioZ_7QonFVa3PWYc9ti6jSQZnyxZCLJ1q8LGEuYSlTcp6salvIjZcFfaQ1TTHC6KVCVAP_5tZ4P_xKnFTYM_Df-6jwQYKBSJFE2ls1tFnVJQru99dAqEMcwvcfov8/s1600/IMG_2172.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4P4qiYu87FpjMuQaHuzGNdKJ_2u6_VtNuWuwMzWG9sV8b3dQkYSJO7AeNzaHA__RoDHpgzERICS6bKhqE38BAh3MuenPT_dHrO_rG_omdDUV08gDPOb5epC2pnXMl8L1V6KIcGIQtyYA/s1600/IMG_2179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4P4qiYu87FpjMuQaHuzGNdKJ_2u6_VtNuWuwMzWG9sV8b3dQkYSJO7AeNzaHA__RoDHpgzERICS6bKhqE38BAh3MuenPT_dHrO_rG_omdDUV08gDPOb5epC2pnXMl8L1V6KIcGIQtyYA/s1600/IMG_2179.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUXyKeRgXlDIFSfyksKlXojtHH5rilxP5-d5H-fdAwtfDdCPBo8__6tkTgciBIP9g4dj-oa98Ps8UKaSawjhW5x6lgiucQL-9yPhuSnmo0XhgY7SD5Os0A6kX_Xkz4W0LRiFIZG86gEc/s1600/IMG_2200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUXyKeRgXlDIFSfyksKlXojtHH5rilxP5-d5H-fdAwtfDdCPBo8__6tkTgciBIP9g4dj-oa98Ps8UKaSawjhW5x6lgiucQL-9yPhuSnmo0XhgY7SD5Os0A6kX_Xkz4W0LRiFIZG86gEc/s1600/IMG_2200.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNU4eKmafhK_Xnh8VVZGOoXQX2bPRhVMe_zJ32ee1hnFRZHNbwyh4doXKg6q1zV-AWLwQIHKaHpaNStQmLvYtYb0ET81I9QzFF_-dYvR5DM2s21haCjWx3WvXYqvUQV6Xii10D0YnYXEU/s1600/IMG_2220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNU4eKmafhK_Xnh8VVZGOoXQX2bPRhVMe_zJ32ee1hnFRZHNbwyh4doXKg6q1zV-AWLwQIHKaHpaNStQmLvYtYb0ET81I9QzFF_-dYvR5DM2s21haCjWx3WvXYqvUQV6Xii10D0YnYXEU/s1600/IMG_2220.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spice market.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlukOKv82-bI3HZR95cAm39CifakRy96UKHze-xNvHZm5qyrb3JffIcSpNZTGfrXEboE0L0JknU47EkLtcSxbJ0CDPCS9NbVbUkB9dvSGpJa28W456RpMw5bxisPHrkEraTtAm4wBhO8/s1600/IMG_2219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlukOKv82-bI3HZR95cAm39CifakRy96UKHze-xNvHZm5qyrb3JffIcSpNZTGfrXEboE0L0JknU47EkLtcSxbJ0CDPCS9NbVbUkB9dvSGpJa28W456RpMw5bxisPHrkEraTtAm4wBhO8/s1600/IMG_2219.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shamian Island.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Monday was our Consulate appointment. I'm not sure if anyone really gets very nervous about the Consulate stuff, but after our experience on Rosie's adoption trip, I'd say we were a bit anxious about the whole thing. It went smoothly, and now we just have to cross our fingers that Frannie's visa is issued without a hitch.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vFnlQ3qCqOfnblg6zLoU03XlSpz-m_nWTG0QB292RY-6dKgIv526h-X4uTkRHLCeplRxC6OLoUUt-9vYWZcFbQMjxWaEniXhSd5EDQPx8oTu0L-Xc7to9QbKvPDkUuDwmsbmxEwL28c/s1600/IMG_2225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vFnlQ3qCqOfnblg6zLoU03XlSpz-m_nWTG0QB292RY-6dKgIv526h-X4uTkRHLCeplRxC6OLoUUt-9vYWZcFbQMjxWaEniXhSd5EDQPx8oTu0L-Xc7to9QbKvPDkUuDwmsbmxEwL28c/s1600/IMG_2225.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
After our appointment was done, we tried for a little holiday photo session in the Holiday Inn lobby since they have such nice decorations. That did not work particularly well as one of our little friends does NOT like to be put down by mama.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKXU2JuYh5LgZoHztfmcAxFz3ihV4QgJPP-qaC9P5UpKuivNKZrwq5184n22nv3OYNVj00WDk777FG15sX7FzWeWBE8xz_yyCloE20enp1a_eE53wmUD5AythfkkoSrOEJWHRnv29eAU/s1600/IMG_2229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKXU2JuYh5LgZoHztfmcAxFz3ihV4QgJPP-qaC9P5UpKuivNKZrwq5184n22nv3OYNVj00WDk777FG15sX7FzWeWBE8xz_yyCloE20enp1a_eE53wmUD5AythfkkoSrOEJWHRnv29eAU/s1600/IMG_2229.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emmie looks sick because she's rocking a NEW cold now which she<br />
has generously passed on to Patrick and me. Will the germs ever stop?!?!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglU14HNuSnQtpuHffx8MRcdQZFkivo_6ZOqLUQCFQlqijB5-v6_xCsBzhiR-iWFSGAlFDOR6l5ztZTzhgs0IKa3d9L8NPi_QV6Uhu86HeFOyHjiPazO02s67K0fM4FiHHj2DgkVDJXQfw/s1600/IMG_2238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglU14HNuSnQtpuHffx8MRcdQZFkivo_6ZOqLUQCFQlqijB5-v6_xCsBzhiR-iWFSGAlFDOR6l5ztZTzhgs0IKa3d9L8NPi_QV6Uhu86HeFOyHjiPazO02s67K0fM4FiHHj2DgkVDJXQfw/s1600/IMG_2238.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Merry Christmas from China!<br />
(Can you hear her screaming, "MAAAAAAMA" because she did not want to be put down?)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JsI4Bbnof9QQRbk-Twv48tHWVZXeb69R9AsEEdBbtJfMLPL-49GPBowZURtYN_cGvfYNH17bEuao3flGWSIC7E2PDAN4m5GkjWVmhnuiyFWRGAJlxiLQaAySE2iUxGkXE4x0yfmdDlQ/s1600/IMG_2241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JsI4Bbnof9QQRbk-Twv48tHWVZXeb69R9AsEEdBbtJfMLPL-49GPBowZURtYN_cGvfYNH17bEuao3flGWSIC7E2PDAN4m5GkjWVmhnuiyFWRGAJlxiLQaAySE2iUxGkXE4x0yfmdDlQ/s1600/IMG_2241.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's better.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Since we only visited Shamian briefly yesterday, we decided to spend the day over there relaxing and shopping for squeaky shoes and souvenirs. We made our usual stop at the Starbucks there, which has to be one of the nicest Starbucks in the world. That's where each of our girls has had their inaugural sip of coffee. It was such a nice day just hanging out like a regular family, and made me think of what it will be like when we are home and living our "normal" family life. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkSDBLOIDodOwB0NTmXoZlu74iQz5BwHQM_WpWyEcr6GTHXVeqQqFwmln00_vEJKxg8g13r6bRAvI0DDKHmqru2SfzNDpiuWLk5anqy6yacMpjkFwIrV4y6u1CBfqVGR4Z-aF8rVQhWo/s1600/IMG_2243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkSDBLOIDodOwB0NTmXoZlu74iQz5BwHQM_WpWyEcr6GTHXVeqQqFwmln00_vEJKxg8g13r6bRAvI0DDKHmqru2SfzNDpiuWLk5anqy6yacMpjkFwIrV4y6u1CBfqVGR4Z-aF8rVQhWo/s1600/IMG_2243.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LG566KhjTqohi8zbIAufIKnPum8z5ji1qyxaleDYik9908jpqAzofvPjR-iLNzUCM973TVkgJYIvNuITmyXqt0wL2u0YgniiQMEZPsExSlf1JmRAlDl7Kw8lgyONbCLAB5E6nDUl0JQ/s1600/IMG_2249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LG566KhjTqohi8zbIAufIKnPum8z5ji1qyxaleDYik9908jpqAzofvPjR-iLNzUCM973TVkgJYIvNuITmyXqt0wL2u0YgniiQMEZPsExSlf1JmRAlDl7Kw8lgyONbCLAB5E6nDUl0JQ/s1600/IMG_2249.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7xO20IOMz5NYOVi9Xh7aWKSo2UHmvyCVIns0hWdgD07zwQMQt84iZmG1Uty5dJoZFZDB8a8tVbb_o78wPLpo7wldDBDYaAbvlF6ncjPZ-QHJrAkRdia-WEQrKf-BY01fji5VBfX4OQzo/s1600/IMG_2250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7xO20IOMz5NYOVi9Xh7aWKSo2UHmvyCVIns0hWdgD07zwQMQt84iZmG1Uty5dJoZFZDB8a8tVbb_o78wPLpo7wldDBDYaAbvlF6ncjPZ-QHJrAkRdia-WEQrKf-BY01fji5VBfX4OQzo/s1600/IMG_2250.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8g1WMwhEnoxofoc9mXkMTamFRuszXqgGEjrb86tM01gEbyui6dzo1C63q9YLa_KE2nGAk_Jpuxk33MnBGw4t94NugJmiG_ssWVzl0wiS3wKP85lnfAojC28IhcZOy2Y48-b_tWOTSAzU/s1600/IMG_2255.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8g1WMwhEnoxofoc9mXkMTamFRuszXqgGEjrb86tM01gEbyui6dzo1C63q9YLa_KE2nGAk_Jpuxk33MnBGw4t94NugJmiG_ssWVzl0wiS3wKP85lnfAojC28IhcZOy2Y48-b_tWOTSAzU/s1600/IMG_2255.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZwYie6Z8GQyw-ovqS3hRkjqjRk3kyii-yJadl9_SWda7ZlX801cQeXqVRdxfm-yr6fDYrsEP2ClJSz_11_ihl7_Gc_cbwLmlUH6bzDgBZbHzoF55fwVg6X6Ar6Q6tFAmI9m4fa1ClbOg/s1600/IMG_2258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZwYie6Z8GQyw-ovqS3hRkjqjRk3kyii-yJadl9_SWda7ZlX801cQeXqVRdxfm-yr6fDYrsEP2ClJSz_11_ihl7_Gc_cbwLmlUH6bzDgBZbHzoF55fwVg6X6Ar6Q6tFAmI9m4fa1ClbOg/s1600/IMG_2258.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJ7ktjFi6n0qOHvTcURMOkGik4l8pMPQvXDuiefqvjZMXULNpU-APbEOGYQVJXL-k5qe7NNv1_d7RBkXwMcV4tjz01qMVT93yQehI-otD1UHPU-ENUHXSaSAYe5B84h7nZG0ildgXf_Y/s1600/IMG_2269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJ7ktjFi6n0qOHvTcURMOkGik4l8pMPQvXDuiefqvjZMXULNpU-APbEOGYQVJXL-k5qe7NNv1_d7RBkXwMcV4tjz01qMVT93yQehI-otD1UHPU-ENUHXSaSAYe5B84h7nZG0ildgXf_Y/s1600/IMG_2269.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Thanks to everyone for your well wishes and prayers for our health and healing. We are inching closer every day to where we want to be...home. It's a hard trip and a long trip, but each time we have done it, we have gained an unimaginable new joy in our lives. This is no exception. Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-58338207695624238542014-12-20T08:04:00.000-08:002014-12-22T08:11:11.492-08:00Change is goodOK, so I'm not going to say that waking up in Guangzhou cleared all the bacteria out of our systems. But it did seem to breathe some new life into our reconfigured family. Especially our new daughter. <br />
<br />
We've seen way more smiles than tears. She's becoming very playful with all of us and seems ... happy. She says "Baba" and "Mama". With a little prompting, she signs "more" and is able to say , "moh." She's babbling more and even singing. She loves raspberries on her belly and imitating us. She's taken more interest in her big sisters. She's even OK with spending some time with us just playing and hanging out together in the room. Rosie keeps saying to me, "Mama, she's starting to like us. She's happy now!" She eats incredibly well. She eats her congee as fast as we can shovel it into her mouth. She likes playing catch and kicking a ball. She enjoys blowing bubbles, building blocks, and pretending to write with a pen. She has a bit of a temper and yells loudly when she does not get what she wants or when someone touches Mama. She does not like it when any other woman tries to talk to her, play with her, or touch her. Her entire beautiful chubby face scrunches up when she smiles.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6h9iYi3AvstyeUcxTsIYMebqrQhsSIycH0yjq4MYl5lvgr-yq8vy0Ihi9h5cRWCbReOAYT3140ZDuKc_UXLHGj_vShYEf7UWiSxeZUPa-goWFtmmHRzahRn5AHwuSfbeBlvLa8t1OYRM/s1600/IMG_2030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6h9iYi3AvstyeUcxTsIYMebqrQhsSIycH0yjq4MYl5lvgr-yq8vy0Ihi9h5cRWCbReOAYT3140ZDuKc_UXLHGj_vShYEf7UWiSxeZUPa-goWFtmmHRzahRn5AHwuSfbeBlvLa8t1OYRM/s1600/IMG_2030.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
After another great breakfast, we headed out to the dreaded medical exam. Although to be honest we were actually looking forward to the medical exam, because we were anxious to see what they thought of Frannie's cough. Also, our guide, Connie, told us that she would ask them to take a look at Rosie with her hives and cough. After getting puked on in the van by our newest family member, we arrived at the medical exam, nearly intact, but smelling like regurgitated congee. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76FxqGOu2u_kGZkWcOnCNRWcS6v__2B1bmXsOcwLnzOS5sUAq62PB5sh1ziDJ4XZkgzpSrTq-jUCzPAuyxvGgn8cQWq-Rg7XpzqJutb0N4Aj5V94_rRB88HHDLYb6XLuNveT7OcAPLRI/s1600/IMG_2033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76FxqGOu2u_kGZkWcOnCNRWcS6v__2B1bmXsOcwLnzOS5sUAq62PB5sh1ziDJ4XZkgzpSrTq-jUCzPAuyxvGgn8cQWq-Rg7XpzqJutb0N4Aj5V94_rRB88HHDLYb6XLuNveT7OcAPLRI/s1600/IMG_2033.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emmie giving little sister a pep talk before her medical exam.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlO7AxVTyBeq_sjhAZ0QLWtmmTg6jSuV7nxpQjkd8OR4vFpjDnmZofi2-bBMvFxfRELCUTan02jh2nFqGFo7vqbldH9BYAKS6zk9zAgv2hCIEnP22q5UqQkQrvR4O4hw17jgCefYVvtnI/s1600/IMG_2037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlO7AxVTyBeq_sjhAZ0QLWtmmTg6jSuV7nxpQjkd8OR4vFpjDnmZofi2-bBMvFxfRELCUTan02jh2nFqGFo7vqbldH9BYAKS6zk9zAgv2hCIEnP22q5UqQkQrvR4O4hw17jgCefYVvtnI/s1600/IMG_2037.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosie helping Connie with the paperwork.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span id="goog_1639764644"></span>
<span class="">When the doctor was listening to Frannie's chest and frowning, I knew that something was amiss. As it turns out, Frannie has bronchitis which bummed us out, but at least she was prescribed Zithromax and some kind of kids' Mucinex. She took a look and listen at Rosie, too, and said that she had a more garden-variety cough and that her hives were likely an allergic reaction to something. I was happy to hear that the doctor was not able to palpate Frannie's spleen or liver, despite the fact I think she is under-transfused. Frannie passed the ENT portion of the exam with flying colors, and screamed her way through the height and weight. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZYpeD4pqIYzJqzmmgUgNU9K5nv7eZGIpB3bBYB3EOKwjn8p803I5fXil1nkoaxpvXn93XtbeXo3-EFtbPTxgW92rjqFxAB5cxYXLTtx7j3obMMLN7M6GF2ZdU5X1hbs0T0u_5SoLWCE/s1600/IMG_2056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZYpeD4pqIYzJqzmmgUgNU9K5nv7eZGIpB3bBYB3EOKwjn8p803I5fXil1nkoaxpvXn93XtbeXo3-EFtbPTxgW92rjqFxAB5cxYXLTtx7j3obMMLN7M6GF2ZdU5X1hbs0T0u_5SoLWCE/s1600/IMG_2056.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0Ml92OCACBLMSv0IqGXKY4wPhuNBsbwL-00eKVbMHG6OXrS_GIKWSG8RvM0JtpsDvzSEGyBqg5QSsXPfTdFK-B9wQ-TlyA6DMb-RG-9yhMfNiWIpBirqmjeXs3fvpYh_OXlEspkILZw/s1600/IMG_2063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0Ml92OCACBLMSv0IqGXKY4wPhuNBsbwL-00eKVbMHG6OXrS_GIKWSG8RvM0JtpsDvzSEGyBqg5QSsXPfTdFK-B9wQ-TlyA6DMb-RG-9yhMfNiWIpBirqmjeXs3fvpYh_OXlEspkILZw/s1600/IMG_2063.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span class="">Since we made it through the exam, and nobody vomited in the van on the ride back, we decided to celebrate by going to one of our favorite haunts in Guangzhou, Tao Tao Ju. We feasted on dim sum and then headed to a local supermarket to stock up on fun-flavored chips and other Chinese snacks. I was actually pretty happy to see that a lot of the snacks and noodles we buy right in Boston's own Chinatown were the same as the ones sold in the supermarket in Guangzhou. Afterwards we strolled the bustling (ie, insanely crowded) pedestrian street right outside of our hotel. Rosie, who is the most sensitive to loud noises, rode around in her stroller covering her ears while the other two loved taking in all of the sights and sounds.</span><br />
<span class=""><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNDpf5hOQEd4LGIsOd83LmTJ1a5Br4Ix4yPk6oqR0e4OiwlTZTyHomPPtpk6wrPZy1VQ4S0ZItiYEAFzl8sbLDTY2pLgHOtKHHs_oQP79CtKsKmgo45DvZFOvyfjgrGXiao5I8KKp_NU/s1600/IMG_2068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNDpf5hOQEd4LGIsOd83LmTJ1a5Br4Ix4yPk6oqR0e4OiwlTZTyHomPPtpk6wrPZy1VQ4S0ZItiYEAFzl8sbLDTY2pLgHOtKHHs_oQP79CtKsKmgo45DvZFOvyfjgrGXiao5I8KKp_NU/s1600/IMG_2068.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class=""><span class="">Everyone enjoying some dim sum. Rosie only seems to eat noodles</span></span><br />
<span class=""><span class="">while in China.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YeFPXboEzh9os2tFwHzKSPvj_AoNFzSd0xAkkw4QUoR4BJ1acMEr9r0wgeMMX0R8TD6tfha_x4l1BxDWTvDwQxbwdmyWWhzuFBOxz2CkDItwOwbl9AIbC-SEBYkcC4gcKb__TdYEa2c/s1600/IMG_2081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YeFPXboEzh9os2tFwHzKSPvj_AoNFzSd0xAkkw4QUoR4BJ1acMEr9r0wgeMMX0R8TD6tfha_x4l1BxDWTvDwQxbwdmyWWhzuFBOxz2CkDItwOwbl9AIbC-SEBYkcC4gcKb__TdYEa2c/s1600/IMG_2081.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosie is really coming into her own and loving her new role as big sister.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Lvj9fvXrbaBCczHWMcnzmh1yFDwu3XioTmpXAXsZOVwcLwqbFUQcuEaBKfO29ER0Od1TseCv0pgFHw5dDTBV-eLA4ImlKAiBXa83qVQe8QalD2cg6C0mlcWSPCvdbx5xphaU7C4K20s/s1600/IMG_2086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Lvj9fvXrbaBCczHWMcnzmh1yFDwu3XioTmpXAXsZOVwcLwqbFUQcuEaBKfO29ER0Od1TseCv0pgFHw5dDTBV-eLA4ImlKAiBXa83qVQe8QalD2cg6C0mlcWSPCvdbx5xphaU7C4K20s/s1600/IMG_2086.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNdz-TmJwJelH99oHwdZA0uFSTXoJyiwbYSUgZnaG1x0SxWCmv-ziAb_0NcMlquR5xCArNjXAMuTZ43S732ugkAJ7rOfCLwcs6_PuspoehsvsuJgVVRucKqLJfLxqsGrcAOQRvsUafn5g/s1600/IMG_2088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNdz-TmJwJelH99oHwdZA0uFSTXoJyiwbYSUgZnaG1x0SxWCmv-ziAb_0NcMlquR5xCArNjXAMuTZ43S732ugkAJ7rOfCLwcs6_PuspoehsvsuJgVVRucKqLJfLxqsGrcAOQRvsUafn5g/s1600/IMG_2088.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love a good Chinese supermarket. Frannie seems to love supermarkets, too.<br />
Rosie can't wait to bring her to Wegman's.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZ1D9VoTgGHHT3NzZhE3v2B6R6zL2ZDosMwFJ54R8o1rpLUqkzcDts2Bll8GmrUXb9HfTL9kyw-7ZnDK0mQ5uPkkSocqFQILtNvV-3k58B-bt8CYFhTfMazgOBONdEuNXttGI8isBJDM/s1600/IMG_2094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZ1D9VoTgGHHT3NzZhE3v2B6R6zL2ZDosMwFJ54R8o1rpLUqkzcDts2Bll8GmrUXb9HfTL9kyw-7ZnDK0mQ5uPkkSocqFQILtNvV-3k58B-bt8CYFhTfMazgOBONdEuNXttGI8isBJDM/s1600/IMG_2094.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super bustling pedestrian mall outside the Shifu.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span class="">I'd call today a success, and definitely a step in the right direction. It makes our hearts happy to see our new daughter starting to relax, play, smile, and enjoy her new family. Because we are enjoying her so much.</span><br />
<span class=""><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhuBH-wyOeaz7lOfX851lR5b2I2sQFnysf0kY8TLYDjV5J57hh5FqoRM_h2ZRBBp7aXbWpd69p2D7ESKCDVrPnodgjTHoQzaTkemQ4V9Zy4Dy6rdaPjTlzZ9hFgvu7WRdlq2FsR5br8ns/s1600/IMG_2102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhuBH-wyOeaz7lOfX851lR5b2I2sQFnysf0kY8TLYDjV5J57hh5FqoRM_h2ZRBBp7aXbWpd69p2D7ESKCDVrPnodgjTHoQzaTkemQ4V9Zy4Dy6rdaPjTlzZ9hFgvu7WRdlq2FsR5br8ns/s1600/IMG_2102.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frannie sandwich!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9n65NijFMydl8OOLLXHCiuJYroWWppOTLTFH7ipTHOg7jX-9x1fCbgvvgI1-wxfBeSW6S-kC6wNdivymYSuK75K1SMs7KEn_nJVZ7M67Ug9miwZM6Dj7foV7N-btIDGE4k5hdsUT40SE/s1600/IMG_2108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9n65NijFMydl8OOLLXHCiuJYroWWppOTLTFH7ipTHOg7jX-9x1fCbgvvgI1-wxfBeSW6S-kC6wNdivymYSuK75K1SMs7KEn_nJVZ7M67Ug9miwZM6Dj7foV7N-btIDGE4k5hdsUT40SE/s1600/IMG_2108.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class=""><br /></span>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-66871654911757366562014-12-19T05:46:00.000-08:002014-12-22T07:24:56.571-08:00A Park and a PlaneOn Thursday, we headed to a children's amusement park in Nanning. It's sort of one one those time-warp parks, not that kids mind one bit if the rides that they are going on are stuck in a different decade. At this time of year, all of the rides are not manned, so if you want to go on a ride, you have to hunt someone down to come over and run the ride for you. At times it seemed like there was one lady who was running from ride to ride, switching them on and off for us and a few other kids. Hong Kong Disney it ain't, but the kids loved it nonetheless. Frannie did a lot of cautious watching from her carrier as her big sisters had fun. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OOR0D2mqpGkXuZqk2SGvm8QbKkLuSsAXvIS1Gh5BujTfYd0k9JlUiOia5rRwr_5gywPBK-ExBOiuLtQSEFQYol53xT8vMI2gkhtxTWSK2R9IJRyBsWYbYo00V_E9eMW0_Me6_ZdJa4s/s1600/IMG_1904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OOR0D2mqpGkXuZqk2SGvm8QbKkLuSsAXvIS1Gh5BujTfYd0k9JlUiOia5rRwr_5gywPBK-ExBOiuLtQSEFQYol53xT8vMI2gkhtxTWSK2R9IJRyBsWYbYo00V_E9eMW0_Me6_ZdJa4s/s1600/IMG_1904.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She ate another great breakfast.<br />
This girl can EAT.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-xh_QunW76kQgTlpwyqBqZ3GGqyP9CAs_HNDg94ijKEddE7oqO7QQc5dObZbXS2GFw4mFhppft2QPKIxP5dAqfxfM9vzQe-SjB-rHF7Oap7qsl2NOqRSUug6jEdVBi0pfUhrlKttJmg/s1600/IMG_1931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-xh_QunW76kQgTlpwyqBqZ3GGqyP9CAs_HNDg94ijKEddE7oqO7QQc5dObZbXS2GFw4mFhppft2QPKIxP5dAqfxfM9vzQe-SjB-rHF7Oap7qsl2NOqRSUug6jEdVBi0pfUhrlKttJmg/s1600/IMG_1931.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhontNfQgbb6SOORW_oSROZLXiYMzfK89rjHexLZdDdzgLzYy2VFv9Ue7-yG9tr0TTASAYlkgM3NCOb8dN3v0EgO1Ed4aJo8lC2i0CS5B1-LFpgxH6cObhT4u5bKktGhAktDBwOuiXe9io/s1600/IMG_1944.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhontNfQgbb6SOORW_oSROZLXiYMzfK89rjHexLZdDdzgLzYy2VFv9Ue7-yG9tr0TTASAYlkgM3NCOb8dN3v0EgO1Ed4aJo8lC2i0CS5B1-LFpgxH6cObhT4u5bKktGhAktDBwOuiXe9io/s1600/IMG_1944.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was a little afraid P was testing the weight limits of this ride.<br />
You should have heard the creaking sound when he squeezed himself in with the girls.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8srIBTB44MbkADv-dQWpaaWZTGNCVDnE1cuT0MAVqefaf5zltKzC6tJjhUTH5jmnQX1yMkwDe28QTA4s1z2-H9OcHyiJiILak1YdDvlqWtwP_uB3dY8T0Z4z3DZ4YTJtxRUjGxdIKjE/s1600/IMG_1962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8srIBTB44MbkADv-dQWpaaWZTGNCVDnE1cuT0MAVqefaf5zltKzC6tJjhUTH5jmnQX1yMkwDe28QTA4s1z2-H9OcHyiJiILak1YdDvlqWtwP_uB3dY8T0Z4z3DZ4YTJtxRUjGxdIKjE/s1600/IMG_1962.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frannie tried this one. She was a little unsure of the whole thing.<br />
We tried to sit her on one of the horses for a photo and she wanted no part of that.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hPJ85PjZs_H7naFOdSbaR33DMEWhauKWLS8PJsbBn9_1opxJWEeY7h9G4-NWNNhQjV5Gmeb6WgK_rJBO-rKqmHV2Bfo1KK23vN_EaKEIm8a7jIbYvMYLnN6FT74I-AC7MlVzupJHaMo/s1600/IMG_1980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hPJ85PjZs_H7naFOdSbaR33DMEWhauKWLS8PJsbBn9_1opxJWEeY7h9G4-NWNNhQjV5Gmeb6WgK_rJBO-rKqmHV2Bfo1KK23vN_EaKEIm8a7jIbYvMYLnN6FT74I-AC7MlVzupJHaMo/s1600/IMG_1980.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6otN2bcIJ0kyQRbfA2n7u4xIByIcOjVArC4e8mj_YozRcWpZR3HK4c6PmMb9jxU63S4ikaGKY0bgW_IDo358OcEEgaOY5j8Cp0M4V5uapZWhM5WM7f8cE3M57nOdxnh1Y9_0pv_ngv5I/s1600/IMG_1983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6otN2bcIJ0kyQRbfA2n7u4xIByIcOjVArC4e8mj_YozRcWpZR3HK4c6PmMb9jxU63S4ikaGKY0bgW_IDo358OcEEgaOY5j8Cp0M4V5uapZWhM5WM7f8cE3M57nOdxnh1Y9_0pv_ngv5I/s1600/IMG_1983.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas in China.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On Friday it was time to pack up and leave Nanning. In more way that one. Friday was the day I would label, "Gets worse before it gets better" in the Adoption Trip 101 handbook. In part it was bad due to the incredible onslaught of illnesses we have all been hit with. Rosie was sick with God knows what and covered in hives. P was hit with a terrible stomach thing. I continued my China-special illness, and Frannie's cough was rattling her entire body. <br />
<br />
Sickness aside, this was the time when Frannie seemed the most inconsolable, the most frightened, and the most like she wanted to escape. She was crying more than not, and refusing to be in the room with us at all. As soon as we'd walk in, she'd put her arms up to be held and point to the door screaming. Our guide's guess was that where she lived was big and that our room was small. I personally didn't think this was too likely. Because we went through this with Emmie, I've spent a lot of time thinking about this issue. What I've come up with is that if a person was kidnapped, they would likely feel terrified at all times with their captor. But wouldn't it feel much scarier to be locked in a room, out of sight of others with your captor than to be out in public with them? I think it would, and I think could be how our children feel.<br />
<br />
So Frannie was just sad and angry. She wanted nothing to do with us, yet she wanted me to be holding her at all times, which made packing up several suitcases of belongings very trying. Every moment felt so tentative with her. If we managed to find something that would make her smile, there was this pressure to do it over and over again, to keep the momentum up in an effort to trick her into being happy. It worked a little.<br />
<br />
We left our hotel, picked up her passport, and headed to the airport. It's a bittersweet moment, leaving the place where you first met your daughter, but bringing you one step closer to home.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxU7tjdHFT0IZ8kzFxP84HPLNo4qi8odilBLZDx8nxdh_hqhfUars0J1BUrm64E_LAjyWOmtYbrB2tLiwWcWk8My8TRdMQP1STQZ640PLa2Q28Fbrld-VoqpanWQ9gUOlRxpOyjo_ivpQ/s1600/IMG_1993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxU7tjdHFT0IZ8kzFxP84HPLNo4qi8odilBLZDx8nxdh_hqhfUars0J1BUrm64E_LAjyWOmtYbrB2tLiwWcWk8My8TRdMQP1STQZ640PLa2Q28Fbrld-VoqpanWQ9gUOlRxpOyjo_ivpQ/s1600/IMG_1993.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready to leave the hotel.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5m1hx0QFwWsr4NgekNDI9hxDrPdOl1UMBxSplDPZ91jDtwv2-CWVoGPGb8-FiVcAyT2kmiJY11v_lWJeGkL5IB8eRPqjHxTLWRGxbmuHbXHY2mhwaS5xHrd6PhPU8BsyhnGmJB_gDCNA/s1600/IMG_1999.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5m1hx0QFwWsr4NgekNDI9hxDrPdOl1UMBxSplDPZ91jDtwv2-CWVoGPGb8-FiVcAyT2kmiJY11v_lWJeGkL5IB8eRPqjHxTLWRGxbmuHbXHY2mhwaS5xHrd6PhPU8BsyhnGmJB_gDCNA/s1600/IMG_1999.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for Glenn to pick up the passport.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvs24C8hFb4LbdBkPPJnPMlT0TnKXMbxy8GmL2317bIhEiKWJN8FV9KrrMpDDR9pHbLROWRh4pl3UTTTfi4-X4DLlH3WSwJI_LUWckk_l5_ybJkbs1t7Vzqi2i_dSbRfLnqLdfsJILyw/s1600/IMG_2006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixvs24C8hFb4LbdBkPPJnPMlT0TnKXMbxy8GmL2317bIhEiKWJN8FV9KrrMpDDR9pHbLROWRh4pl3UTTTfi4-X4DLlH3WSwJI_LUWckk_l5_ybJkbs1t7Vzqi2i_dSbRfLnqLdfsJILyw/s1600/IMG_2006.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saying goodbye to Glenn. Can you tell how SMITTEN Emmie was with him?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBF1ScRz7u3036oNwTJhgR_HxINdTCVp5v6zGrkWGrVnZYQyESF77Tha31zPqz29-Scr3HnzyYJ6mYZxvRgpLnHN-jWG9e3YMDlG4sRvxayzOHy0qtsm4HLl-YH7pIF6kgK4B2jAuvyw/s1600/IMG_2007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBF1ScRz7u3036oNwTJhgR_HxINdTCVp5v6zGrkWGrVnZYQyESF77Tha31zPqz29-Scr3HnzyYJ6mYZxvRgpLnHN-jWG9e3YMDlG4sRvxayzOHy0qtsm4HLl-YH7pIF6kgK4B2jAuvyw/s1600/IMG_2007.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a lucky guy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6q5obW2cSt-sCNmXyL06BYS7o7sUArLErzCo0cmst1gz5LaYJ-i787x04GrlHGjWcuLyOLEOx-2s6kZ0M0ulyyecKnWM4q_fwmiOJbA1aU6Eah4BB_iZkKfqIEs6E5lAJE47xvTNSQNc/s1600/IMG_2009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6q5obW2cSt-sCNmXyL06BYS7o7sUArLErzCo0cmst1gz5LaYJ-i787x04GrlHGjWcuLyOLEOx-2s6kZ0M0ulyyecKnWM4q_fwmiOJbA1aU6Eah4BB_iZkKfqIEs6E5lAJE47xvTNSQNc/s1600/IMG_2009.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready to say goodbye to Nanning.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjex4iZDuSkCQ-jZL-YZhDQ6l2HjDdMzJW6fWWfdhc1fVWWTPcuI0gKRq6HhrRtkuXL3c0IZV-JvaNaNVcvkRHhQ_GogpDyUz9aUnxvlwTlyCtok84qnjmfAlA4HjNM9osU5LC2CPEM_WQ/s1600/IMG_2022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjex4iZDuSkCQ-jZL-YZhDQ6l2HjDdMzJW6fWWfdhc1fVWWTPcuI0gKRq6HhrRtkuXL3c0IZV-JvaNaNVcvkRHhQ_GogpDyUz9aUnxvlwTlyCtok84qnjmfAlA4HjNM9osU5LC2CPEM_WQ/s1600/IMG_2022.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby takes flight!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We left the plane after yet another Emmie celebrity-style photo session (she is constantly being photographed and petted here!) and a throw-up session from Rosie, and met our new guide, Connie. As sick and tired and weary as we were all feeling, I still felt a sense of calm wash over me as we headed towards the Holiday Inn Shifu in Guangzhou. It's a place we have spent so much time--more than we wanted to because we were stuck there on Rosie's adoption trip! As soon as we walked into the lobby, Emmie remembered it well. It was like deja vu when we walked into our room and realized it was the same room we stayed in last time.<br />
<br />
Now we are just hoping that a change in scenery is just what we all need. For our health, and for our baby's continued healing.Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-40095232047555334032014-12-17T07:24:00.000-08:002014-12-18T08:56:57.813-08:00Days 2 and 3I can happily announce that things are going pretty much as expected. Not great, not bad, just somewhere in between. A little person just had her world thrown into a tizzy, and she's sad and confused. Just like I'd be sad and confused if someone switched my husband, swapped my parents, or traded my house. And while we go into adoption knowing this will happen, it's still hard. Hard to watch your daughter suffer when you love her so much it hurts. And hard to keep yourself together when you are tired, displaced, sick, and stressed.<br />
<br />
On Tuesday, Francesca woke up a little confused but cheered up and ate a good breakfast. We went back to the Guangxi Civil Affairs Office to make the adoption official after the "harmonious period" during which we basically test-drive our new daughter. The officials asked us if she did well overnight, if she was what we expected her to be, and if we wanted to keep her and why. After the awkward question and answer session, the CWI caretakers presented us with a few small gifts for Francesca, as well as an absolutely beautiful handmade photo album of her. When we were done at the office, we said our final goodbye to the caretakers, and thanked them profusely for taking care of our daughter before we could. I always find it absolutely impossible to convey enough appreciation at this moment.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvenneq8rUzpZeuLtV-YRVE2D8CL21XC-XFjfZ4c-21lf2b4wGGZMSKQrwR3oB-CP8f5IhLGLSxSlPXo4nkOMPX-BB28hMjhei3ckDEJUUy0v-riTfA-7Dq4BVDfuEuN8fNkCjKwqvaI/s1600/IMG_1660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvenneq8rUzpZeuLtV-YRVE2D8CL21XC-XFjfZ4c-21lf2b4wGGZMSKQrwR3oB-CP8f5IhLGLSxSlPXo4nkOMPX-BB28hMjhei3ckDEJUUy0v-riTfA-7Dq4BVDfuEuN8fNkCjKwqvaI/s1600/IMG_1660.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goofing around at breakfast.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuU-yOVSdsRYrt1r1uPJVdkeyIpLtUwBiKJ7Fgjy3kjg0o6nirUq6CemkgmCq0LjuavQrcYo7qjh9xALaTFZzGIPEvgQEzNp-MwHoApMs55KOcPUyKekcmFOgjP0PfCXjVXptxFMzKYU/s1600/IMG_1665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuU-yOVSdsRYrt1r1uPJVdkeyIpLtUwBiKJ7Fgjy3kjg0o6nirUq6CemkgmCq0LjuavQrcYo7qjh9xALaTFZzGIPEvgQEzNp-MwHoApMs55KOcPUyKekcmFOgjP0PfCXjVXptxFMzKYU/s1600/IMG_1665.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuf6X7mqsgCeTwcFamr-TaBz7Yu3V8LWfDynlFBsUKx6Nnfcl0BMKHv_Lk2PyNLaihqEQrE18Mp2vrwkMVuaD_T2ut5bgJ3UVaCH9UsiQemzWxxkf8uGUkfHlNv0UtrEaQL5jSm-ryiAo/s1600/IMG_1677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuf6X7mqsgCeTwcFamr-TaBz7Yu3V8LWfDynlFBsUKx6Nnfcl0BMKHv_Lk2PyNLaihqEQrE18Mp2vrwkMVuaD_T2ut5bgJ3UVaCH9UsiQemzWxxkf8uGUkfHlNv0UtrEaQL5jSm-ryiAo/s1600/IMG_1677.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So pretty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2CSd1vHCofupwbKFF22QuQ4NeGnpcMbDGs7CkoJvSNW7hyU5B_5APURpB6VYzLhN11VwDXX_dOIdSoXDM6CxtqEofiZKMdb6Yj-QNh3Wt8AU-0vHy0FGhQF9XYZH-nnzK2BuupWyz0ck/s1600/IMG_1685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2CSd1vHCofupwbKFF22QuQ4NeGnpcMbDGs7CkoJvSNW7hyU5B_5APURpB6VYzLhN11VwDXX_dOIdSoXDM6CxtqEofiZKMdb6Yj-QNh3Wt8AU-0vHy0FGhQF9XYZH-nnzK2BuupWyz0ck/s1600/IMG_1685.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosie planting one on her little sister.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Dj-0Sf4izmcq8cDC8MxtJkQ5wco4-NWu2UORpfM1ju7TbigfyA0RZ7C2zbXFRr1w35XjEa4rCoOAe2_yPnjL2ghEUNd0R1Uia4NiT0510rJBqvxouMtxiEr8mOGKg7F21FJnNPSH1CQ/s1600/IMG_1688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Dj-0Sf4izmcq8cDC8MxtJkQ5wco4-NWu2UORpfM1ju7TbigfyA0RZ7C2zbXFRr1w35XjEa4rCoOAe2_yPnjL2ghEUNd0R1Uia4NiT0510rJBqvxouMtxiEr8mOGKg7F21FJnNPSH1CQ/s1600/IMG_1688.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrlNEtA_pwukb4loR9_8wUnu4gp5sSW0phKt80qq0eYHPWpuQzw5T5euV40l-TjW1NLc9FArNE_qI8d1PTAA0GsLh9cHApIB88dM6ipNWUYNDsEkTL2kmBmmuV-JtPoRw7FJDtPNiRXzU/s1600/IMG_1710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrlNEtA_pwukb4loR9_8wUnu4gp5sSW0phKt80qq0eYHPWpuQzw5T5euV40l-TjW1NLc9FArNE_qI8d1PTAA0GsLh9cHApIB88dM6ipNWUYNDsEkTL2kmBmmuV-JtPoRw7FJDtPNiRXzU/s1600/IMG_1710.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After doing her footprint. She did not like it at all.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After all of our appointments, we had a little playtime in the room and then we headed to the fancy new mall nearby. Francesca was OK with riding in the Ergo, which surprised me. We got her a cute new pair of squeaky shoes to replace the crazy red patent leather boots that were two sizes too big.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRsGGjqJGNU9Qwh7qQE683ce0rAmyab2jUe4uFuMtBpl8Mc69NTE9KJhDroO1xOngeDnzmBx_8nKd2SrGztor0U5IoOnLZ90uRqwn6LMR_5L4RKd8X4PpcvoxadThuSTCb0BGpKVdqT0/s1600/IMG_1732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRsGGjqJGNU9Qwh7qQE683ce0rAmyab2jUe4uFuMtBpl8Mc69NTE9KJhDroO1xOngeDnzmBx_8nKd2SrGztor0U5IoOnLZ90uRqwn6LMR_5L4RKd8X4PpcvoxadThuSTCb0BGpKVdqT0/s1600/IMG_1732.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhrX5hG5WvVC-bQ2UfErj9pQE1IHqeUICIMW9OnhAe9pmAMan5tfrNVvjhAbLB7XRp7iDQFwtsrb38FtUrV5V1MaTxy6pV3sknaIpt-qQzl0rCCIoYyj04NHzeY22ogi_VmOcthlo824/s1600/IMG_1727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhrX5hG5WvVC-bQ2UfErj9pQE1IHqeUICIMW9OnhAe9pmAMan5tfrNVvjhAbLB7XRp7iDQFwtsrb38FtUrV5V1MaTxy6pV3sknaIpt-qQzl0rCCIoYyj04NHzeY22ogi_VmOcthlo824/s1600/IMG_1727.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The requisite van photo. There are getting to be so many of us<br />
that we can hardly fit in!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqebOQACPqxBMuxCbUIKG8N71jxl5chTdfRVWiNfwChte2xkIYom6ZmGDbUQWK5gX-uH9C81eVxhd3kjrm7fZ3a8nNyiHkUgltHlsCnKJWAhK_nix9P-NiJdUwuBP1yPEfotnWSNuZZ0E/s1600/IMG_1737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqebOQACPqxBMuxCbUIKG8N71jxl5chTdfRVWiNfwChte2xkIYom6ZmGDbUQWK5gX-uH9C81eVxhd3kjrm7fZ3a8nNyiHkUgltHlsCnKJWAhK_nix9P-NiJdUwuBP1yPEfotnWSNuZZ0E/s1600/IMG_1737.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the mall getting some new shoes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDK9EJqQ9681jLr9gb8ecYB2enbnmSPZRxRnaRGJjRSAWOHyKxxGkTcQXGdZffky1ctP5zrJ0C_LWfTSmV3sQnuWJZ2YzL_I7xaRNQ_IVnf-UFCU06lRX99H_ebNs3m6XOz5GvOcSX9oM/s1600/IMG_1750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDK9EJqQ9681jLr9gb8ecYB2enbnmSPZRxRnaRGJjRSAWOHyKxxGkTcQXGdZffky1ctP5zrJ0C_LWfTSmV3sQnuWJZ2YzL_I7xaRNQ_IVnf-UFCU06lRX99H_ebNs3m6XOz5GvOcSX9oM/s1600/IMG_1750.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
On Wednesday, Glenn took us to Qing Xiu Shan park. It is an absolutely beautiful park, nothing like anything I have ever been to in the US. The weather has been quite nice here, and the air feels dry less smoggy than it has on our previous trips. I don't remember ever seeing a blue sky in China before.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNxndQsbV1zOdm4YWbgx2A5m44iy4noqTPPC8bG-xA6Viojs2ZhZ2-NGOd3nTq2-lfigSxF8rOzT0EPW3om8hx8v2eXq9_Fj3idVEgQAYU8L2F3ClqjPxuFkesRoqjFlYD-C2nlFzFHAY/s1600/IMG_1799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNxndQsbV1zOdm4YWbgx2A5m44iy4noqTPPC8bG-xA6Viojs2ZhZ2-NGOd3nTq2-lfigSxF8rOzT0EPW3om8hx8v2eXq9_Fj3idVEgQAYU8L2F3ClqjPxuFkesRoqjFlYD-C2nlFzFHAY/s1600/IMG_1799.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcnGWpjzbgTBA0qmJckxeKmmPLptxvMgtM7_exZNTqDIXFlIcxAnIgmQa0D-nuHlcvEguE47Jl8dTcUXDUj79lfwtbsooEOrJAwBYOsg-jbCnfo3CXa6TnkcggDxxRsO2wd_sM8gPgVI/s1600/IMG_1808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcnGWpjzbgTBA0qmJckxeKmmPLptxvMgtM7_exZNTqDIXFlIcxAnIgmQa0D-nuHlcvEguE47Jl8dTcUXDUj79lfwtbsooEOrJAwBYOsg-jbCnfo3CXa6TnkcggDxxRsO2wd_sM8gPgVI/s1600/IMG_1808.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJlTVCY9zEzQQC1x-zhfZvKmQVGuALJkid8OCFPlYYK3U163sbIv_JY24VMMkCwzZ69U2tqKbzyOzhD33f_RPuP21dDEavxnstet1ab9yFeUXlxnHiH5_Kc4LIw-bMLyMDKtMj23tRdo/s1600/IMG_1816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJlTVCY9zEzQQC1x-zhfZvKmQVGuALJkid8OCFPlYYK3U163sbIv_JY24VMMkCwzZ69U2tqKbzyOzhD33f_RPuP21dDEavxnstet1ab9yFeUXlxnHiH5_Kc4LIw-bMLyMDKtMj23tRdo/s1600/IMG_1816.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc8NNgZwMdVxIGgXKH22j3MDfCxZ3_R44MoJEP8UUIZibpPnEPkCNiOf4ntYi_dMmqr21ojOq_7xl4Tvkt1aKr4g6OR1hD3frknvfsCgjTMdeKz-FLCY3NgKWxyNk0IN5Iz67ugLT0HJM/s1600/IMG_1821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc8NNgZwMdVxIGgXKH22j3MDfCxZ3_R44MoJEP8UUIZibpPnEPkCNiOf4ntYi_dMmqr21ojOq_7xl4Tvkt1aKr4g6OR1hD3frknvfsCgjTMdeKz-FLCY3NgKWxyNk0IN5Iz67ugLT0HJM/s1600/IMG_1821.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0FHjXsKKNHzZRX3LLMPrX0AKp_pKAbyNlULywXy5SXB1RnWrLEcMEkGICa7bUTbadZ9bkbF8ODilXn06I3MBStqO6xh9PeDaHCSwYryjRC5TMfjuvS1PFEJTqwJdnRr0WMlTUYC3mhn8/s1600/IMG_1822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0FHjXsKKNHzZRX3LLMPrX0AKp_pKAbyNlULywXy5SXB1RnWrLEcMEkGICa7bUTbadZ9bkbF8ODilXn06I3MBStqO6xh9PeDaHCSwYryjRC5TMfjuvS1PFEJTqwJdnRr0WMlTUYC3mhn8/s1600/IMG_1822.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHbjpnmmc2d0OH-TieQazLsqK0UC7uA2RupXVv1lSkXFbHbVkZybVOELgnzdvKwo2GPpEsQlA4i0nfeGDN3RYuSiKBRNPy_Jq2Ow7DNzOYATRlR9Iy24wJcl1fM2WhR_sNnKgRglswws/s1600/IMG_1848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHbjpnmmc2d0OH-TieQazLsqK0UC7uA2RupXVv1lSkXFbHbVkZybVOELgnzdvKwo2GPpEsQlA4i0nfeGDN3RYuSiKBRNPy_Jq2Ow7DNzOYATRlR9Iy24wJcl1fM2WhR_sNnKgRglswws/s1600/IMG_1848.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDT4ai_7dDB126dc-YqezdScOHBd3RPf6YbxWi9E2pm6AHk3XC9v0Hml9ol2zAjgtwhTfoyC6dLLjgoE9OV3P9k8ALvzHlh6ym9NguHc6GsjbKDqW3z0I39rKKgcD-HvO4QznfvEbiJG4/s1600/IMG_1860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDT4ai_7dDB126dc-YqezdScOHBd3RPf6YbxWi9E2pm6AHk3XC9v0Hml9ol2zAjgtwhTfoyC6dLLjgoE9OV3P9k8ALvzHlh6ym9NguHc6GsjbKDqW3z0I39rKKgcD-HvO4QznfvEbiJG4/s1600/IMG_1860.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
In the afternoon we rested. Everyone is sick now, all with something different. Stomach problems, cough, fevers. I seem to have the exact same illness as I had on Rosie's adoption trip, complete with the China-special oozing eyes. <br />
<br />
Francesca is turning out to be a little like Rosie when we first met her. She prefers Baba, but not in the extreme way that Rosie did. She will let me hold her and care for her and play with her. But sometimes, she won't even let me look at her, and even takes a swipe at me. She gets very, very angry when Emmie or Rosie try to come near me, even if she doesn't want to be near me herself. She's still pretty hot and cold with her sisters. <br />
<br />
She's also turning out to be a little like Emmie when we met her. She wants to be out of the room constantly, a la Nanning 2012. While she's not exactly hanging on the doorknob trying to escape like Emmie did, whenever we are in the room, she raises her arms to be picked up and cries, pointing to the door. She wants to be walked in circles around the 20th floor endlessly, which, as we learned on Emmie's adoption trip, is slimming but not sustainable. She has cried so much that her sweet little cheeks are nearly bleeding. Night time is hard, but at least she eventually wears herself out. <br />
<br />
So, we are having some good moments, but overall things are not easy right now. And trying to deal with hours and hours of heartbreaking screaming tests your limits when you are tired and sick and feeling like the walls of your tiny hotel room are closing around you. But we didn't expect that it would be easy. Luckily, we have experience on our side--we can just look at Emmie and Rosie and know that it does get better. And not just better...but wonderful.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897137081640740269.post-83835679781142632122014-12-15T05:51:00.000-08:002014-12-16T07:32:31.054-08:00Party of FiveSo, the "Gotcha Day" story. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We left the room in a frantic rush because, you know, we can barely make it anywhere on time with two kids, never mind three. P and I were so so so super nervous. When I told this to our guide, Glenn, he said, "It's your THIRD time!" OK, so maybe this stuff gets to be old hat to some folks, but not us. Emmie chatted and chatted and chatted the entire ride over there. P and I just wanted silence in an attempt to calm down. The Civil Affairs office is only a couple of minutes from the hotel, so there wasn't a lot of time to get ourselves any more in the zone. It was more like the sweaty, shaky, I-might-puke zone than anything else.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We were the first family to arrive. We sat in the waiting area, and I asked Glenn if we would see Yiman arrive. He told us yes, and showed us where to stand to get pictures. Right about then, I started looking around frantically for Yiman's little Hello Kitty backpack full of goodies. It turns out, in our rush to leave the room we forgot the bag. This sent me into a tailspin. How were we going to meet our daughter who was DEFINITELY going to hate us and have NOTHING to give to her. I mean, were the four of us just going to sit there and look at her and hope we'd get by on our good looks and charm? I think not. So I sent P back to the hotel to get her little bag. Just as the van whisked him away, I realized that he had the camera strapped on to him, so if she came in while he was gone, we'd miss that first glimpse. I was a wreck waiting for him to return.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgljJ-I6NQj51o4pElolGYxAalXUBePpIdBbzf7p4a92un_AL6rqvPLhhwU07wOUwbGAAkp38UStN1V_URt-Lb4Z_xMoWddBmotPDYgRhrCPrLh9Q6QT-srlnZ-pdFgP7KVJeNiS0Mk7Yk/s1600/IMG_1480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgljJ-I6NQj51o4pElolGYxAalXUBePpIdBbzf7p4a92un_AL6rqvPLhhwU07wOUwbGAAkp38UStN1V_URt-Lb4Z_xMoWddBmotPDYgRhrCPrLh9Q6QT-srlnZ-pdFgP7KVJeNiS0Mk7Yk/s1600/IMG_1480.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not-so-patiently waiting for their mei mei.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Thank goodness, he got back in the nick of time. Not long after, Glenn said, "There she is!" P started clicking away with the camera and I started rolling the video. But as I looked through the viewfinder, I knew it wasn't her. I mean, people often look different in real life than in pictures, but this was *really* different. Like, a BOY different. I asked Glenn about 4 times if it was her and he confirmed that it was. They took her/him into a playroom where Glenn said they would change her, presumably into girl's clothing. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
P looked at me and said I looked disappointed. Emmie and Rosie seemed a bit flummoxed, too. I started reviewing the video...she had boy clothing on, but this was totally possible. She had a whiffle, but this was possible, too. But it just wasn't her FACE. I mean, a mother knows her daughter, even the very first time she meets her. All of a sudden, I looked up, and in walks in a man carrying a precious little baby girl with big eyes and a crazy hat with fake hair on it. THAT was Yiman! But, obviously in all of the confusion, neither of us were documenting her arrival as we had been told she already arrived. As a boy. Before I could get the video out, the moment was over and she was taken to the back room. Emmie and Rosie was just reeling by now. It was like one minute their little sister was a boy. The next their little sister took Rogaine, grew long hair, and got a color and perm. I mean, do we EVER do things normally in this family?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I wanted to scream at Glenn but we were quickly asked to come into a back room to meet her. She walked in with her orphanage foster father in one of the craziest Gotcha Day outfits I've ever seen. Padded everywhere, red patent leather boots with rhinestones, and a hat with the aforementioned crazy curly hair. But she was the prettiest sight we had ever seen. Well, tied with the other two prettiest sights we have ever seen. She wasn't that interested in the stuff we had in her Hello Kitty backpack, and when it was time to leave the meeting room she started screaming her little head off. Actually, we were the only family with a screaming child on this particular day.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwntharY8TeuRveLHn9Figg6TEkmpN7xaT30m9v8zPr9w7eNtpQcJUQKDy0Umd5E0cO530vHlJc1reLwWaGopwXB77NmPL5kXx8SKy0uwKyfe0YR1LyzSmv5xaOyZ94O13-MnBptObOzQ/s1600/IMG_1486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwntharY8TeuRveLHn9Figg6TEkmpN7xaT30m9v8zPr9w7eNtpQcJUQKDy0Umd5E0cO530vHlJc1reLwWaGopwXB77NmPL5kXx8SKy0uwKyfe0YR1LyzSmv5xaOyZ94O13-MnBptObOzQ/s1600/IMG_1486.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocking quite the trendy outfit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-U_OTMsJ-IUNOi2Ja7CioS60Wc2QLRZak2s8oTXj6YUKxjdMSiCdQuUvLRSwVoYsygzlpnnhnLspn-UFELB58NXU5tXA6dHcgGqGIuHa0D-LJj250NDugctGZvhuC0iOHZJlDycWBP2M/s1600/IMG_1489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-U_OTMsJ-IUNOi2Ja7CioS60Wc2QLRZak2s8oTXj6YUKxjdMSiCdQuUvLRSwVoYsygzlpnnhnLspn-UFELB58NXU5tXA6dHcgGqGIuHa0D-LJj250NDugctGZvhuC0iOHZJlDycWBP2M/s1600/IMG_1489.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First meeting. The man with her is her "in-house" foster father from the CWI.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlSF0tq4HicHsTNR25_6qfKzua2uyrGVSa3hWRgC7jgmDYqUpcyZqzOTv-bVVWVlj8Rvb_GiTVcXP_IGllCietY_GtLi_JYK9oFlAfqcVqbVQ-tq10TpyidGUOBsHD3fE12716qK13D0/s1600/IMG_1497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXlSF0tq4HicHsTNR25_6qfKzua2uyrGVSa3hWRgC7jgmDYqUpcyZqzOTv-bVVWVlj8Rvb_GiTVcXP_IGllCietY_GtLi_JYK9oFlAfqcVqbVQ-tq10TpyidGUOBsHD3fE12716qK13D0/s1600/IMG_1497.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Baba while I talked to her caregivers. Emmie was running out of<br />
tricks by now trying to cheer her up. "Mama, she doesn't even like STICKERS!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I went over and reviewed my list of questions with the caretakers. I found out that she has had a lot of transitions this past year. Before July, she was in the regular baby room at the CWI. From July to October, she "lived" with a foster family IN the CWI. Some of the younger children actually have foster families who are put up by the CWI to take care of children in-house. From October to two days ago, she was living with a foster family outside of the CWI. Then she went back to her in-house foster family. They said she cried for much of the past two days. The told me that in both of these families, she had a very strong preference for the Baba, because the Baba's played with her more.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Medically, she looked good to us, a little pale maybe, but with all of the anemic people in our house, we sort of get used to pale so my judgement might be off. She hasn't been transfused since 11/11. The transfusion before that was two months prior. It seems as if she is not particularly well transfused, and when she does get blood, she's not getting very much. This is due to yet another very bad blood shortage in Guangxi.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After gathering as much information as possible, they gave me her finding clothes. Unless you've done it before, you have no idea how unbelievably sad and empty it feels to hold your child's finding clothes. There was no note with her when she was found under a bridge, at 3 months old.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
During this entire question time with the caretakers, P was trying to soothe Yiman. Emmie and Rosie kept taking turns coming over to me and saying things like, "Mama, she doesn't like me at all." And, "Mama, she doesn't like any of the stuff we brought for her." They were trying so hard to cheer her up, and you could tell that it was bothering them that they could not comfort their new little sister. It's moments like this when I know that I am blessed with two of the most amazing, compassionate daughters in the world.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And then that was that. We carried her kicking and screaming out of the office. She was hot and sweaty and sad and scared and dazed. Our hearts just broke for her, knowing how utterly confused and terrified she must have felt.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When we came back to the room, she seemed extremely angry with me. Probably a combination of her strong preference for males (she was even going to Glenn for comfort) and the fact that I didn't do any of the comforting at the Civil Affairs office because I was talking with the caregivers about her. Surprisingly, she also did not like Emmie and Rosie one single bit. We were a bit shocked because kids usually like kids, but not this kid, I guess. Emmie and Rosie were such troopers about it and refused to give up, even though it was clear it hurt their little feelings.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbbZiB0pC19ZfATe-Th2xdnqNOtGRP6oVmVF6VYd2DdJZiuTpM4dqXO-vMu3YkPyi1UGy2KbfzRFT_DGZ9pH27bxeRkwWW0lNO9YVN97MTqzeQT14uvqf1Gu-6iql-P2E7rE_xpXU6bc/s1600/IMG_1498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbbZiB0pC19ZfATe-Th2xdnqNOtGRP6oVmVF6VYd2DdJZiuTpM4dqXO-vMu3YkPyi1UGy2KbfzRFT_DGZ9pH27bxeRkwWW0lNO9YVN97MTqzeQT14uvqf1Gu-6iql-P2E7rE_xpXU6bc/s1600/IMG_1498.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sad and hot. Where have I seen this scene before? <br />
Talk about giving us flashbacks!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRr8VAGOQOn8ByjfQJv9fr_qBeQZuCfA5-5CVNAoHHHC7Tu4zxBMom2iDoXcj9VezwVlS_FWDUMmCSU0JimnOoZ_I4kfqflYzzQ3Gbg7-Mm3yNJsiPH2M7HM9uULvn1Evjml5gUT6XiU/s1600/IMG_1503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRr8VAGOQOn8ByjfQJv9fr_qBeQZuCfA5-5CVNAoHHHC7Tu4zxBMom2iDoXcj9VezwVlS_FWDUMmCSU0JimnOoZ_I4kfqflYzzQ3Gbg7-Mm3yNJsiPH2M7HM9uULvn1Evjml5gUT6XiU/s1600/IMG_1503.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosie: If she doesn't want to eat these snacks, I will!<br />
(The Snackinator)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6UWeMRWE6kQ69uMf4SXF4iPxGvaaMe4hnQmHQYhJJqoefQl6CjEhZaRlB5uXXYvYpy-AarT725z060pyDhvuUYz1oe3R5krqNvv-wLk0TOm8j81gVBN49XF203Br2Fp4qZZ_AdMUeIY/s1600/IMG_1524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6UWeMRWE6kQ69uMf4SXF4iPxGvaaMe4hnQmHQYhJJqoefQl6CjEhZaRlB5uXXYvYpy-AarT725z060pyDhvuUYz1oe3R5krqNvv-wLk0TOm8j81gVBN49XF203Br2Fp4qZZ_AdMUeIY/s1600/IMG_1524.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApMxj42a_1KgNjAdMeoukB7KKBdRmKTF0x6qoEdRGhYbSDJWxSUMl6CvO4H8LEwcRBAifbjbQFyo4Bl_PxpbNXBsDii-mW4bpR2FaJiXdoRwlMBpGkbhN56dQ14s8SljTwIdQTCH_HHc/s1600/IMG_1532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApMxj42a_1KgNjAdMeoukB7KKBdRmKTF0x6qoEdRGhYbSDJWxSUMl6CvO4H8LEwcRBAifbjbQFyo4Bl_PxpbNXBsDii-mW4bpR2FaJiXdoRwlMBpGkbhN56dQ14s8SljTwIdQTCH_HHc/s1600/IMG_1532.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of her first semi-smiles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So the remainder of our afternoon was oscillating between screaming and sort of cheering up. At one point, she screamed until she passed out asleep. We took that as an opportunity to strip off some of her sweaty layers. When she woke up, we went to the Executive Lounge and she smiled a bit and ate some watermelon.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0z4iTub35VthOq6tcy2ZWDGeuePbPNjhNJ0lJStaHIbvCoPeFXWoOHDAMKX02sb58GOU-rnV0gczWHfCrDIWjXGJf7_i-5sbFBgWjFJl2Zcs6TvT1YakSX-cD7GdkhRM1zs8ObeckHXg/s1600/IMG_1547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0z4iTub35VthOq6tcy2ZWDGeuePbPNjhNJ0lJStaHIbvCoPeFXWoOHDAMKX02sb58GOU-rnV0gczWHfCrDIWjXGJf7_i-5sbFBgWjFJl2Zcs6TvT1YakSX-cD7GdkhRM1zs8ObeckHXg/s1600/IMG_1547.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Oz8ABlPrEttpBc4iNjpSE02LGrGdsaSSvxl-Ph6TvaCYChMqpAqPWx2JcdV9axbMpQ9MfUDhTYcnWueLVTKRLKCpcWLweIOiwoDJDtSnIlYQ0ZSndqvQ4qZiOMq3BF5iCIfPgdrGNh0/s1600/IMG_1562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Oz8ABlPrEttpBc4iNjpSE02LGrGdsaSSvxl-Ph6TvaCYChMqpAqPWx2JcdV9axbMpQ9MfUDhTYcnWueLVTKRLKCpcWLweIOiwoDJDtSnIlYQ0ZSndqvQ4qZiOMq3BF5iCIfPgdrGNh0/s1600/IMG_1562.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscaiGTTKVmcUsLl7xsvpqdXEJX5hJqCNSmZHWuIFJE-DbELlAhjhGOFe4T_4PCCKvY6qVIt8UJo-3BhWKELWJcIwgtV0sMgtRgDHV3LNDUw5pQ8S1js9vqM7Yy3-JEg5GNkp_6S2Kvbo/s1600/IMG_1567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscaiGTTKVmcUsLl7xsvpqdXEJX5hJqCNSmZHWuIFJE-DbELlAhjhGOFe4T_4PCCKvY6qVIt8UJo-3BhWKELWJcIwgtV0sMgtRgDHV3LNDUw5pQ8S1js9vqM7Yy3-JEg5GNkp_6S2Kvbo/s1600/IMG_1567.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGfH1XgeihkWIkLbk73G9Dekh0jYUVBK89alufK5rD04RIO79XgpobmYBoaJVBZjFeJYTIjjbhFKRwc99mzyHE7DJaRhRanT9E77NO64GaeohCM9NH43bj_BVFHtfRCfp6EKLwU6tKIlA/s1600/IMG_1577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGfH1XgeihkWIkLbk73G9Dekh0jYUVBK89alufK5rD04RIO79XgpobmYBoaJVBZjFeJYTIjjbhFKRwc99mzyHE7DJaRhRanT9E77NO64GaeohCM9NH43bj_BVFHtfRCfp6EKLwU6tKIlA/s1600/IMG_1577.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emmie still trying!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJpxbdz5HOGRv0un0IznH_KOGTaEwXpy3eRZPqi0YTE0ss0jgw7ElyfuvGTjt0W1Xb4NuVb8ZeZ3IjUARGkFmnyLXQkLEidmtjB4qiRezJh93-YQbSViHfFLsmvMia0lDLTDVn5e67d0/s1600/IMG_1582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJpxbdz5HOGRv0un0IznH_KOGTaEwXpy3eRZPqi0YTE0ss0jgw7ElyfuvGTjt0W1Xb4NuVb8ZeZ3IjUARGkFmnyLXQkLEidmtjB4qiRezJh93-YQbSViHfFLsmvMia0lDLTDVn5e67d0/s1600/IMG_1582.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Definitely not happy with any of the females in this hotel room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinv-04lwxNE6LZJt5dElqozlDjm-Ff6uN61xzSWBKu2H90zDcqCIDGiTE13Px8wReWa9Bqx4quly52s_g55I_B5ZYIbZYu2a0GsHqkC0nyyQuSMD4_eOauFWnJym92r6TXXIltEacr4OU/s1600/IMG_1591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinv-04lwxNE6LZJt5dElqozlDjm-Ff6uN61xzSWBKu2H90zDcqCIDGiTE13Px8wReWa9Bqx4quly52s_g55I_B5ZYIbZYu2a0GsHqkC0nyyQuSMD4_eOauFWnJym92r6TXXIltEacr4OU/s1600/IMG_1591.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I cried myself to sleep.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHWhzU4jsWG92GkQWpuVdVbnQ8kQwjqEBcvc6ShYT60FCmcgKR8PzYM1sGSeOXI2KAkySPWsVjHq5kANUzos0lblUC7u3Ii6-HjtBtAtdcUW4Cg9EMvShTGV6PrsI1ToVk-yL0QW-zfQ/s1600/IMG_1599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHWhzU4jsWG92GkQWpuVdVbnQ8kQwjqEBcvc6ShYT60FCmcgKR8PzYM1sGSeOXI2KAkySPWsVjHq5kANUzos0lblUC7u3Ii6-HjtBtAtdcUW4Cg9EMvShTGV6PrsI1ToVk-yL0QW-zfQ/s1600/IMG_1599.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosie pulling out all the stops at an attempt to gain little sister's favor.<br />
Not working.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Tonight we gave her a bath with the girls which was a huge hit. After Emmie and Rosie got out, Francesca proceeded to poop in the tub, which was a bit of a surprise because the caretakers went on and on about how constipated she was and that we had to go to the pharmacy to get some ancient Chinese herbal remedy for this problem. Emmie and Rosie thought this was both disgusting and hysterical. P said that Emmie will probably talk about this as much as anything else about our entire trip to meet her sister. And, for those of you who know Emmie, this is absolutely true. If anyone from Emmie's pre-K class is reading this blog, I'm sure you'll be hearing about this when she gets back.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtc2INjIKYwIr29GuLqRAO24xHJyembrtPJqCqOcdL8Jvb8Pq61pP_YRDT00MvSz1WB9hPHGJFHNX65oBYK1KF7c05g8DzTiOxS5tezdDCrqrJoDq8COVQTpyEONKDXCoDLedeMgecie4/s1600/IMG_1605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtc2INjIKYwIr29GuLqRAO24xHJyembrtPJqCqOcdL8Jvb8Pq61pP_YRDT00MvSz1WB9hPHGJFHNX65oBYK1KF7c05g8DzTiOxS5tezdDCrqrJoDq8COVQTpyEONKDXCoDLedeMgecie4/s1600/IMG_1605.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loves the bath!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_YsU4a7MQeS1DljxGbMtaqseezlZotCiJmRJrAqCyFTrED4TEhZiaK4KFTmxFSElQxxSwMKqLWTgH0ItocGWeX8B2M73y7CS7P6l3RrT20BWHqpaVzLdR9R-H9xWvUuPXxnfF8MIREo/s1600/IMG_1616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_YsU4a7MQeS1DljxGbMtaqseezlZotCiJmRJrAqCyFTrED4TEhZiaK4KFTmxFSElQxxSwMKqLWTgH0ItocGWeX8B2M73y7CS7P6l3RrT20BWHqpaVzLdR9R-H9xWvUuPXxnfF8MIREo/s1600/IMG_1616.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
After cleaning up the poop and re-cleaning Francesca (which she did not mind one bit and I'm sure makes her think she gets a double bath every night), the girls watched Classical Baby. Now, Emmie and Rosie are pretty serious when they watch Classical Baby, and they were a little miffed with their baby sister grabbing at the screen, putting her face up so close that they couldn't see, drooling on the DVD player, etc. Emmie kept saying in her Emmie-tone, "Mama, what is she DOING?" Rosie rolled her eyes more than once. Ah, sisters.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqLsEtQSkkbfS6M_d2nWeB2P6-40OoC8aYOCNCfeJPttGOzHJOqzt9ZAjXWF1Y8ncHB-8Q0fT6ozfF2IOImg7Ux4LfSMSWzyV-IwC3iIC7jDrEdnZUjtzpYP2F0htuNJo4attGYzjlZN8/s1600/IMG_1620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqLsEtQSkkbfS6M_d2nWeB2P6-40OoC8aYOCNCfeJPttGOzHJOqzt9ZAjXWF1Y8ncHB-8Q0fT6ozfF2IOImg7Ux4LfSMSWzyV-IwC3iIC7jDrEdnZUjtzpYP2F0htuNJo4attGYzjlZN8/s1600/IMG_1620.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why does it look like they are already up to no good?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigbhLs5Ak5LxQeibvLFQ9Cdw4myVl-MAqsQe-M6rfvhBuwHVjKgK-uBY5HwLplCddVw_xBDIoqPnjXTmj_xyetNmDI9yh9JAYfSwisolvoReCXYYyR-S-UxpGc8_FNQYRLDp5uKTYYct8/s1600/IMG_1623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigbhLs5Ak5LxQeibvLFQ9Cdw4myVl-MAqsQe-M6rfvhBuwHVjKgK-uBY5HwLplCddVw_xBDIoqPnjXTmj_xyetNmDI9yh9JAYfSwisolvoReCXYYyR-S-UxpGc8_FNQYRLDp5uKTYYct8/s1600/IMG_1623.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVFrIqi6Fhy6Yy1T3cbF8KWZhXyWgVBTWsLtWlUU5bARFb1zc26uM_IBTMCfj_J26hceIs7rOiBEdkt11TTjToF0jCSOv8AzniGh6lEkykoYI5FPebHrcqug6Fcc0D1uFgUQ3qPh20UxI/s1600/IMG_1624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVFrIqi6Fhy6Yy1T3cbF8KWZhXyWgVBTWsLtWlUU5bARFb1zc26uM_IBTMCfj_J26hceIs7rOiBEdkt11TTjToF0jCSOv8AzniGh6lEkykoYI5FPebHrcqug6Fcc0D1uFgUQ3qPh20UxI/s1600/IMG_1624.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosie, very triumphant that we survived the day!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOxIUe3nBOeZTaCvlsVeJMbKk-Kk1-3IPfd_tV7We2B4uw-4Ki8Xu0e9vkFnDaYUaDxHHnRj8JtVj6fjZ3eTkMyLDaiAYLcmrNxkQJOMoIEv1shXimlvay886JR17ygvdLehk2B-gGok/s1600/IMG_1641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOxIUe3nBOeZTaCvlsVeJMbKk-Kk1-3IPfd_tV7We2B4uw-4Ki8Xu0e9vkFnDaYUaDxHHnRj8JtVj6fjZ3eTkMyLDaiAYLcmrNxkQJOMoIEv1shXimlvay886JR17ygvdLehk2B-gGok/s1600/IMG_1641.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We love you, beautiful baby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70DBnEUJUuWwphbWxp_I8SjfXjrW9HSlYgvbkPoAEJPUFy9muWoiet587_Uv9iz6GslRctBx3W6iA-OU2RA9UJcKM0iqlpADBRR-Z-FNSoriRzu-RazhEb1CEREGUw6gTkTq68gD6rJI/s1600/IMG_1625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70DBnEUJUuWwphbWxp_I8SjfXjrW9HSlYgvbkPoAEJPUFy9muWoiet587_Uv9iz6GslRctBx3W6iA-OU2RA9UJcKM0iqlpADBRR-Z-FNSoriRzu-RazhEb1CEREGUw6gTkTq68gD6rJI/s1600/IMG_1625.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sisters forever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11837231674729787704noreply@blogger.com13