Ukraine Adoption

Ahh. Time off.

Next week I will sleep in and drink two cups of coffee and read the entire newspaper every morning and not get ready for the day until noon. For real. I'm taking the week off, and people are asking me what I am doing on my "vacation" and I just want to say, it's not what I'll be doing, it's what I won't be doing.

For instance:
--I won't be getting up at 6:15 a.m., making Tara's lunch, my coffee, her breakfast and roughly brushing the knots out of her hair while she screams.

--I won't be sitting in my car after the 5-minute drive to her new pre-school and waiting for her to finish her breakfast. I'm already late for work. Almost done, honey? "No, not yet..."(I look to the backseat, her legs are crossed, bagel in hand, she's gazing out the window, chewing slowly)

--I won't be stopping on the way home from work for birthday cards, graduation cards, thank you cards,(all over now, thank goodness).

--I won't be rushing dozens of miles across town to Austin's baseball games in the evening (season is over).

--I won't be cleaning and doing laundry and cooking all the time. (John: read this)

Bathing suits and birthdays

John and Austin have been out of town for a few days so it's just been Tara and me, bumming around together this weekend. We have been cleaning the house, shopping, and swimming at the pool. We love summer.

But today begins a slew of birthdays in my family, starting with my Mom's (Happy Birthday Mom!) and tomorrow is my brother Dave's (Happy Birthday Big Brother) and then Tuesday is Austin's (wow, 12!) Isn't it some kind of karma that my Mom, her first son and then my first son have birthdays so close together? I see this a lot in families. Some kind of genetic cycle, maybe?

OK, I would write more about our every day life so far this summer, but a little girl dressed as a purple and pink butterfly princess from head to sparkle-shoe toes, carrying a doll in the same outfit, is waving her star wand at me. I guess her wish is that I turn my full attention to her, again! I think she is excited to celebrate all of these birthdays.

The graduates

One more picture that Tara's friend Natalia's mom just gave me. I love it. Click on it to see it bigger, if you'd like.

Little Rascal

So John says I only write about the sweet and cute and clever things that Tara says and does. Isn't that really all that we care about anyway?
If so, don't read any further. I'm going to give a little equal time to the other side of the wonderful little girl whom we affectionately call Tara the Terror (only sometimes)

Here goes:

--Right before bedtime, Tara gets a burst of energy, real giddy, and a bit obnoxious if you're on the receiving end (which John and Austin usually are) She'll grab whatever they're doing, throw it, run with it, you name it. This usually involves a lot of crazy-laughing and screaming.

--Sometimes Tara gets a woeful expression on her little face that reminds me of the early days at the Ukraine orphanage. She seems to sense that my defenses are down and she'll do the opposite of what I'm telling her to do. Like, get in the shower! (she runs downstairs). Or, don't pick that up it'll break, (oops too late.)

--She loves to ride her bike around the block, but if you let her talk you into taking her, you will often find yourself A: carrying her bike back because she stubbed her toe or something; B: carrying her because she finally ran out of energy; or C: arguing with her on the last stretch because she wants to pass you but when you stop she rams her bike into your leg or your bike (this is fun.)

--She threw my magazines on the floor in my room this morning when I told her to go and clean her room, so I said I would throw her stuff on the floor in her room to see how she liked it. She stomped in behind me with her hands on her hips, saying: "I don't like your words and I don't like what you're doing."

OK, that enough? :-)

Graduation Day

As promised, some photos of Tara and her friends at pre-school graduation. You can see more in the photo album on the left, including the candid ones that look like they just graduated from high school (!) Tara's first day at her new pre-school yesterday went very well, although someone took her clothes home by mistake when she was frolicking in the sprinkler on the playground in her bathing suit. Imagine that! Not to worry, she walked John, who is on pick-up duty, to her classroom where she changed into her extra clothes. We're always prepared... The mom who took them home by accident--her daughter's cubby is next to Tara's--brought them back this morning washed and folded. Hmmm, maybe I should just put Tara's clothes in that girl's cubby every day.

The Tara-trooper

I bent down on one knee and gave my sweet four-year-old daughter with the blueberry-scented hair a strong hug. This is always the hardest part, saying good-bye in the morning. But today was Tara's first day at her new pre-school, the one close to home. We had just put away her bathing suit, towel, water shoes, sheet, blanket, dolphin, extra clothes and lunch box in her new cubby in her new classroom. She is in the group called the Dolphins. And then we went to the playroom where the children get dropped off in the morning.

Two little boys and a girl were sitting at the crafts table playing with some bright pink but gooey play-doh. A few other children were coloring. Then there was this little boy who must have been just two years old who was wailing, and I mean wailing. The other children were trying not to look alarmed. Sometimes crying is contagious. I stuck around until that boy settled down.

The playroom is large and bright with lots of windows that look out onto a playground that includes a big sand box and some tricycles on a track. Tara was on the waiting list for this coveted pre-school for more than a year. When I tell anyone in our area that she is attending this school, they always say it's a wonderful place and she'll love it.

But that doesn't make it easy to leave her behind, especially on the first day. The little trooper, she marched right in but then stayed close to me. There were no familiar faces; her teacher had not yet arrived. But there were no tears today. Another teacher walked over and took her hand and offered to show her around. Tara looked at me and I smiled and nodded my head. She softly said "bye" and went with the teacher. I ducked out and watched from the hallway window as they made their way around the room, checking out the play areas. You'd think I had never left her at school before. The first day is always hard. Especially for me.

Little big graduates

We waited outside, squinting in the sun. Some of us were daring enough to sit on the tiny blue chairs carefully placed on the worn lawn. Others were standing at the ready with cameras. Here they came, down the stairs, 20 graduates of Stony Creek pre-school, all clutching their black or white caps with tassles so that the wind wouldn't steal them away.

All of the girls were in dresses and skirts, one boy in shorts was wearing cowboy boots. Tara was in the middle of the line, turning to look at her friends and laughing at the excitement of the morning.

She wasn't really supposed to be among the graduates because she has one more year before kindergarten, but she was the only one in her class with one more year and they certainly didn't want her to be left out. With her January birthday, I had convinced the director to let her be with her five friends from her previous school. They are all moving on this fall.

But this special consideration was lost on Tara, for on that bright, sunny Friday morning, she was one of the graduates. The teacher, who is expecting her first child within weeks, gave an emotional speech with her voice cracking about how proud she was of each and every one of the children.

Then the director, fighting back tears and clutching a piece of paper with her words, talked about how they were now "giving back" these precious children to their parents to continue on the journey of education. Parents tucked cameras under their arms to dab their eyes. For a flash, I was imagining how these will all be 18 year olds someday, leaving high school. How will we make it through?

They sang some songs to demonstrate that they were truly ready for kindergarten, especially shouting their ABCs. At one point, somehow on queue, they all reached into their pockets and put on star sunglasses to sing the last song. OK, how did I leave my camera at home?

Not to worry, some moms are sending me photos of these little rascals, including some candids of them afterward, looking like they're about to go off to college.

I'm glad now that Tara is moving to a new pre-school closer to home this fall; she seems ready to move on, just like her dear friends, the graduates.

Ukraine today

A woman with the same first name as mine emailed me last year to tell me she was adopting from Ukraine and working with my facilitator. She wanted some guidance, some support, some advice. We became cyber friends. Her paperwork had to be redone many times as documents expired in the various, emotionally draining delays of the Ukraine adoption system.

When she finally received notice of her appointment, her email to friends and family contained many, many exclamation points. I remembered the same feeling from 2005.

Today, she is in Ukraine with her husband. Last week, they received a referral for three small children and planned to visit them on Monday--three days ago-- for the first time. Most children in orphanages have some developmental delays and tend to be smaller than their counterparts in the U.S. If these children had issues that were far too difficult to deal with, she and her husband would most likely request a second appointment at the Ukraine adoption center. That could take up to two weeks. Sometimes the center recommends that you come back in six months.

I have been checking my friend's blog daily, she has not written in it since last Saturday when they were preparing for a nine-hour train ride to the children's region early Sunday. Probably, they are unable to get on the Internet from the region. Or they have returned to Kyiv for another appointment. I hope that whatever is happening, that they don't give up. I'm not sure why I'm writing this now, perhaps I'm hoping our good thoughts will help move things along for her. (I have told her about the value of vodka, as well.)

UPDATE: They met the three children and are proceeding with the adoptions! You can read their blog in the right column: Laura & Ed.

little ballerina and a new pre-school

Little Tara Vika looks so serious in this photo, I couldn't resist featuring it. I can picture her on stage in a serious ballet--so disciplined. She is signed up to take some ballet classes this summer and she wanted to try everything on to make sure it all fit. There are smiley photos in the group at the left.

Speaking of this summer, Tara will be splitting her time between two pre-schools. One is the school near my work where she has been going; the other is very close to home with a wonderful reputation and national certification. She had been on the waiting list for more than a year there. It is run by the public school district, which is one of the best in our state. They know what her elementary teachers will be looking for next year.

I'm hoping this will help transition her to attend the one close to home fulltime in the fall. Are all these changes good for a 4 year old? I don't know, I'm going with my gut. I want to give her a break from the long commute to my work town everyday. All of her friends there are slightly older than her and moving on to kindergarten. Tara has one more year of pre-school. And thirdly, she keeps getting invited to birthday parties on the weekends that we keep turning down because I can't stand the thought of commuting on my day off.

We went to orientation at the new school last week. I was nervous; what if she hated it? But bless her little heart, she went in the classroom hesitating but with a smile. Her teacher was very sweet to her, Tara checked out all the areas in the room, she met some of her new friends, she looked at the big playground. When it was time to go, she didn't want to leave. So far, my gut is right. Fingers crossed for the summer and beyond.