Ukraine Adoption

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For the story of Tara's adoption from Ukraine, go to the archives at the bottom of the right column and start reading in February 2005. Little Tara was two years old when she left an orphanage with her new family. When she began kindergarten in the fall or 2008, we stopped our regular entries about her new life in America. Now it's her to story to tell.

But we can't resist posting some pictures every once in a while. In addition to the one above taken this spring, check out some new ones by clicking on the Adoptlove Photoset in the left column.

Here, we keep a running tally of blogs from families adopting in Ukraine so that others can follow along. For some of us, it's about reliving the adventure, the frustration, the miracle. For others, it's about hope for finding their children in Ukraine.

Watch for the most recent blogs at the bottom of this list.

The site that hosts the blogs in the right column, Blogrolling.com, has been down for a while and not accepting new posts. Hence this list. Enjoy

Kevin and Pam, Ukraine--11/08

The Higgins, Ukraine--11/08

Jill and Tyler, Ukraine--11/08

Louise and Ray, Ukraine--11/08

The Bergs, Ukraine--11/08

The Dudleys, Ukraine--11/08

The Campaus, Ukraine--11/08

Hrcahjkiws, Ukraine--11/08

Teresa and Jim, Ukraine--11/08

Millilo family, Ukraine--12/08

Viktor and Inna, Ukraine, 12/08

Nick & Nancy, Ukraine, 12/08

Paula and Michael, Ukraine, 01/09

The Haags, Ukraine, 01/09

The Epperlys, Ukraine, 01/09

The Mortons, Ukraine, 02/09

Moloneys, Ukraine, 02/09

The Turners, Ukraine, 02/09

Tucci's, Ukraine, 03/09

Dan & Colleen, Ukraine, 03/09

Dawn and Mark, Ukraine, 05/09

Marsha and Alan, Ukraine, 05/09

Ashley and Jason, Ukraine, 05/09

The Land Family, Ukraine, 07/09

The Quon family, Ukraine, 08/09

The Bell Family, Ukraine, 08/09

Hosford Family, Ukraine, 09/09

The Cosseys, Ukraine, 10/09

DeYoung family, Ukraine, 11/09

The Daniels, Ukraine, 11/09

The Finleys, Ukraine, 10/09

Tim and Rita, Ukraine, 2/10

Davie family, Ukraine, 2/10

Leslie and Crawford, Ukraine, 2/10

The Higgins, Ukraine, 03/10

The Krebs, 5/10

The Bockisches, Ukraine, 06/10

The Hinksons, Ukraine, 06/10

The Corbetts, Ukraine, 06/10

Cherystyn and Matt, Ukraine, 7/10

Julia & family, Ukraine, 7/10

Five years ago today...

...we saw a picture of our little girl for the first time. It was a baby picture, she was maybe 9 or 10 months, outdated, we learned she had just turned 2. The photograph was small, maybe even black and white, but we could tell she was smiling. (Much later, we asked for that photo but they would not give it to us).

It was Feb. 2, 2005, and we were at Ukraine's adoption center after a long journey of document-gathering in the U.S. and frustrating delays in Ukraine. But there we were, in folding chairs in a small room with a psychologist and a big, fat book that looked like a photo album with pages and pages of children without homes. The ones with special needs or recently updated health issues had sticky notes on them, with handwritten scribbles. This was their system. It was far from perfect.

The psychologist, a pleasant young woman, asked our facilitator again if we were looking for a girl? Yes, she said. The woman looked skeptical. But at last she showed us our daughter's page. My first reaction was, oh my she is only 2 years old. I had a notion that our daughter was probably older, maybe 4 or 5. Children younger than 2 are very difficult to find, we were told many, many times. But this little girl had just become available for international adoption only days before.

Would we like to go see her? Yes, of course we would. We were still in shock when we left the adoption center. Wow. A 2-year-old girl. We forgot to ask her name.

A few days of approvals and more documents went by before we finally met our daughter. This is your mommy and daddy, she was told. (Can you imagine?) She was scared. She cried. We tried to comfort her, we tried to explain.

We will be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. And one day, we will take you home. We will give you everything we could possibly give. We will open the world to you. We are so happy for this day.

First day and last time

kindergarten first day
Originally uploaded by me

Kindergarten already?

Her pink flowered backpack is filled with required school supplies that anyone would envy: Play-doh, glue sticks, crayons, thick markers, tennis shoes for gym class. Our little Tara Vika is ready for her first day of kindergarten on Tuesday. But am I?

Sun, fun, eat, drink, sleep. Repeat

North Carolina beach
Originally uploaded by me

(More pics in the photo set on the left)

At the beach

There's a tropical storm brewing nearby and we are getting just a taste of it occasionally, but otherwise thoroughly enjoying our oceanfront dwelling.
Our biggest decision in the morning: beach or pool?

I will try to post some pictures later.

Which way to the beach?

We are taking our annual beach vacation on the east coast of North Carolina, and really looking forward to just getting away for a week. I will try to post some pictures while we're there. Our puppy will be boarded, so we hope he'll be OK and won't regress in the house/potty training area...

Our neighbors will watch our kitty, as he wouldn't do well to be boarded. Let's hope he doesn't get angry at being abandoned by us and pee in my closet again. Sigh. At least I had a good excuse to buy some new things last year.

Screamfest

Tara has a habit of screaming, even when she's having fun with her brother or the pets. It's a piercing scream, the kind I could can and sell to horror movie producers. We are trying to break her of this behavior, as it can be disruptive and annoying. Plus, when will we know if she is seriously in trouble??

I grew up in a very quiet house, I don't remember any of us five kids screaming. Austin is a very quiet kid, so this is something we're not really used to even after 3 years of Tara!

Her screams can go from hysterical to laughter in a flash. Sometimes by the time I get into the room, she is laughing with tears still streaming down her cheeks. When I try to remove her from the situation, she gets angry. Sometimes I ignore it. Maybe she just wants attention. Or maybe she is just feeling small and that's her defense mechanism. It's hard to know. I put her in time-out yesterday after a long screech during a pillow fight with her brother. She was more mad at me than him.

If anyone has suggestions on how to deal with this, they would be most appreciated. Or maybe she will just grow out of it? I mean, she won't be screaming when she walks down the aisle to pick up her medical degree....will she? Oh, that would be me screaming. :-)

A first, more than 3 years later

Tara filled her Barbie backpack with rainbow pajamas, pink shorts, a pink shirt and her beloved stuffed dolphin and told me she was ready to go. She was excited to be spending the night last Saturday at Aunt Karen's house. I was excited for her, but I was also a little choked up. For this was to be the very first time since April 2005 when she came home from Ukraine that she and I would be apart for a night. More than three years.

Yes, it's true. I have avoided business trips and our vacations have all been with the family. So while she was ready for her first sleepover, I wasn't so sure I was ready to drop her off and drive away.

The overnight adventure was set up because Tara didn't want to go with us to a baseball game Sunday, and Aunt Karen has been wanting her to spend the night for quite some time. You see, they both love arts and crafts. Aunt Karen had a bunch of projects for them to do; Tara would be thrilled. I knew this.

So during the 30-minute drive in the rain to Aunt Karen's Saturday evening, I reminded Tara to be polite and say please and thank you and to tell Aunt Karen if she needed something. She had band-aids in her pocket and a few extra pair of undies in her bag. Finally, Tara said, "I'll be FINE, Mommy."

Indeed. When we arrived, Aunt Karen and cousin Caroline were there to greet her. Karen pulled out all kinds of artwork for them to work on and explained each project to a wide-eyed Tara. I hung around longer than I needed to, hovering, holding my keys. Finally I said good-bye but they hardly noticed that I was leaving.

At home, I felt a little guilty for enjoying the short-term sense of freedom that I suddenly had. I read a magazine, uninterrupted, and ate an entire candy bar. I had a conversation with Austin, uninterrupted. And John too.

At the baseball game on Sunday, I called to check on Tara. Did she sleep ok? Has she been behaving? Is she crying? Karen told me Tara slept good and was just fine. Does she want or need to talk to me? I asked. Some mumbling on the other end. No, she says she's going to eat lunch now, Karen told me. Oh OK.

We had a lot of fun at the game, and I have to admit, it was much easier without Tara getting bored and restless.

Hours later when I picked her up, Tara told me she had a lot of fun at Aunt Karen's house. Caroline got her McDonalds for lunch, they made chocolate chip cookies, Uncle Mike playfully flipped her around, a pile of artwork sat on the table.

It seems we both survived this milestone.

The Summer of 2008

SUMMER08 020
Originally uploaded by me

Tara smiles

TaraBW
Originally uploaded by me

Tara-isms part XXVI

On the way to Grandma's house today, I interviewed Tara, who was busy in the back seat poking at our puppy in his carrier.

If the puppy could talk, what would he say? I asked her. "He'd say goo goo, ga ga." Is that it? "Yes, he's a baby, he can't talk yet." Somehow that makes sense.

What do you like about our new puppy? I asked. "Well, I'm glad he's a boy because he likes to play. Girls just sit around and don't do anything." OK...

If our cat could talk, what would he say to the dog? "Hey! Quit jumping on me!"

In the car, the puppy was panting a little. Tara said, "Why did we get the big-tongue one?"

She asked me when we are going on vacation. In three weeks, I told her. "Is that like, two days?" she asked. No, it's 21 days, I said. "Oh. So like, when I wake up tomorrow, will that be two days?"

Tara and her cousins

Tara and cousin Meagan
Originally uploaded by me

The puppy

DSCN0025


Originally uploaded by me

Summertime

The puppy is a sweet little guy, Tara has been swimming a lot and Austin has really gotten into tennis. That's pretty much our summer so far.
As for John and me, we actually got out to a lobster fest/beach party on Saturday night and had a blast.

OK, photos of the puppy will be posted soon. As soon as we get a new camera...

The pup

Our new puppy seemed just as excited to see Austin and Tara as they were to see him. He is smaller than we thought he would be, which is cool because he and our cat are sort of nose-to-nose--for now. He is a yellow labrador and will grow to be about 60 pounds, we're told. His paws are really big! And he's awkward when climbing onto the porch.

I have to admit, not being a dog person, that little guy is real cute. And he has a nice temperament, not crazy and hyper. Neighbors gathered in front of our house yesterday evening and watched him sniff around in the grass and go from person to person, soaking up all the attention.

I think he slept through the night and woke up dry. Gosh it sounds like I'm talking about a baby. The boys in the house decided to name him Salem. It seems to fit. After running, jumping and playing, he passed out quickly for a three-hour nap. While he was sleeping, the cat poked through the cage at his ears. This could get interesting.

And so far, only one "accident" in the house, that I know of...

From chaos to crazy

Indeed. It is with mixed emotions that I say this: our house is about to change. We are getting a puppy this week. The kids are so thrilled they can barely stand it. John is reading books on how to train a dog and teach it to hunt, though I don't recall him ever hunting. I'm not a dog person. I like cats. But I have finally given in to the begging and pleading and the promises to do everything. We pick up our yellow labrador puppy on Wednesday.

The "crate" for sleeping is ready and planted smack dab in the family room next to the television. I'm told this is what you do with puppies at night, as they will cry and whine much of their first few nights. Something to look forward to. I am also told they chew. A lot. On everything. And they pee, a lot. Did I say I'm not a dog person?

Austin started this. It was his birthday a few weeks ago, and we were in the car and he looked at me with his puppy-brown eyes and said, "I only want one thing for my birthday. Just one thing." I figured it was a video game. "A puppy," he said. "I'll do everything for it." He's 13 so you figure maybe this is the year for some responsibility. How about a turtle?

John and the children have agreed to do all that needs to be done for a dog on a daily basis. And while y'all may be laughing, I'm really going to stick to my convictions that I will not take on the caregiver duties for a dog. I'm going to be sure they each have their own pooper scoopers. I think that Tara will be the most vigilant at that, actually. I may pat the puppy on the head, or maybe teach it to run with me outside, or maybe throw a ball around with it sometimes. Maybe I will grow to be more of a dog person. The little thing IS awfully cute...

Up to a point. And when I'm pointing at doggy-doo, somebody in my house better be running to pick it up. Wish us luck.

A natural?

So John signed Tara up for gymnastics classes this summer (yes, it's true) and the first one-hour class was Monday afternoon while I was at work. There were four girls in the class. John says he watched them do some stretches but then went off to work on his laptop.

When the class was over, the teacher chased John down to talk with him about Tara. She said she couldn't believe that Tara did not have previous gymnastics training. She couldn't believe that this was her first class ever. She said Tara has an incredible ability and that if she likes gymnastics, she will go very far. She told Tara that she might be doing gymnastics on TV someday (!) The teacher said she was from Romania where she competed and she knows talent when she sees it. She was almost apologetic that Tara was in the basic class for young, new students. She said Tara has the perfect body type and is a natural.

This cracks us up. So she is a natural in soccer AND gymnastics?

When asked what she liked best about the class, Tara said: "Jumping in the ball pit!"

Friends hanging out

Taranata5
Originally uploaded by me

Swimming, sunning, baseball

It's been a busy summer so far, from baseball games to the pool, birthday parties to bike rides. I'm home with the kids this week for an old-fashioned summer break. We hope to play and relax on a whim, no schedules.

You may have noticed there aren't many new blogs of families in Ukraine to adopt. It seems the adoptions have slowed down. Each one is taking so much longer than it did just a few years ago. I would not be surprised if the painful process is scaring people from Ukraine, which is really a shame. But who can take 6 or 8-plus weeks off from work to live in Ukraine where the rules seem to change daily, depending on which orphanage you're dealing with? And which town you're adopting from? And whether the judge is having a good or bad day or week?

We admire the families who are still planning their trips to Ukraine and haven't given up on this process as they search for their children. More than ever, they need to be determined yet patient.

...a few more Tara-isms

Tara wants to grow, a lot, and fast. This morning she ran over to the measuring wall where we periodically mark her growth with a pencil. "Hurry up, Daddy!" Tara said. "Weigh me!"

Since joining the neighborhood pool two weeks ago, there are six words I hear on a daily basis: "Can we go to the pool?" It can be pouring rain. "It's ok, we'll have our towels," she says. Kind of makes sense.

Tara-isms Part XXV

Tarasmile
Originally uploaded by Powers Photos

Special week

Just this week:

Tara scored another goal at soccer on Monday after weaving in and out to kick the ball, blocking shots at the goal, chasing down the ball as though everyone else was standing still. She actually anticipated where the ball was going to go and ran to that spot. Her coach told me afterward: "You have something very special here. She's a real athlete." That was her last game of the spring season, I have already signed her up for fall.

Also: Tara decided Monday that she definitely no longer wanted the training wheels on her new bike so Austin took them off for her, and she promptly threw them in the garbage can. That was that. Today, she and Austin couldn't wait to show me that she can completely ride around the block, to the park, on gravel, pavement, dirt, wood chips, grass and down a curb, all without falling. She can start and stop by herself. She did not want to get off her bike. I'm not sure who is more tired today, Tara or Austin (!)

And finally, on Wednesday evening if the power has returned to her school, the classmates in the Raccoon Room will have their pre-school graduation ceremonies. UPDATE: No school Wednesday due to power outage; graduation rescheduled for June 18. They will sing songs that they have been practicing for weeks. Our big little girl is more than ready for kindergarten in the fall, according to her teachers. She has learned to play (and excel) at soccer and bike riding, so we know she is anxious to conquer kindergarten. Is the world ready for Tara Vika?

Fallen trees and a sad little girl

A sudden, crazy storm with mini-tornadoes ripped through our neighborhood yesterday. Our beloved maple tree in front of our house was ripped from the roots and knocked over onto our driveway---and John's car. Remarkably, the damage to his car was minimal: a handful of fist-size dents.

Tara and I had just left the house in my car, which was parked closer to the tree and would surely have been crushed if it was still there. We missed it by 10 minutes. Upon arriving home, Tara burst into tears, hysterical really, saying she loved that tree. Just hours earlier, she was trying to get our cat to come out of the tree. He was chasing a squirrel.

Down the street, a yellow-orange glare was flashing through the sky by an angry downed wire. Smoke filled the air. We lost power. Across the street in a backyard, three huge old trees fell down domino-style upon countless wires. They looked twisted and turned and dark like a jungle. The roots pulled out of the ground were taller than me; Austin's friend posed for a picture. The light rain was still falling, it was the only gentle thing of the night.

Late into the evening, people rode bikes through the neighborhood to survey the damage. Neighbors in shorts and wet hair gathered in the street to talk about where they were when the winds hit town. Children were riding their bikes and skate boards, trying to delay their bedtimes. I talked with some neighbors I haven't seen in ages. Destruction brings people together. We are thankful that no one in our area was hurt, though we have heard that six people died in our state's storms yesterday, mostly due to fallen trees and flooded streets.

Today brought sunshine and we can see even more clearly, our tree lying there like a tired old friend. Lots of phone calls to insurance companies and tree-cutters. Our homeowners insurance won't pay for tree removal, but auto insurance will pay to repair John's car. That's because the tree hit the car. If the car hit the tree, then insurance would have paid for tree removal. Go figure. That's America for you.

She kicks, she ....

...scores! Yes, Tara got her first ever goal last night at her soccer game. I was jumping up and down on the sidelines, just amazing! She was so thrilled.

Play by play: In the middle of the game, I told Tara to try to stop the other team from scoring because our players were just standing by our goal and watching the ball roll right in. So the very next play, the same thing happened and Tara looked at me, I was making a frowny face, she was mortified like she messed up. And then she teared up and the coach put his arm around her. Oh no! I didn't mean to make her feel bad!It wasn't her fault! I'm an awful spectator/soccer mom.

On her sideline break, I told her it's not her fault they scored. She wasn't even the goalie. I hugged her and sent her back in. She seemed OK. Whew.

Then the other team was taking the ball down the field again toward our goal, Tara sprinted past the whole mob of kids from both teams, got in front of the boy with the ball, put her foot on the ball to stop it, and then kicked it to the side and ran it all the way down the field, the mob of kids trailing but not able to catch up. We were screaming. Then she guided the ball toward the center and kicked it right in the goal!

A loud silence

My nearly 13 year old son wouldn't speak to me this morning, wouldn't even say good-bye, and my 5 year old daughter would only scream at me like I'm ruining her life because she can't find her shoes.

Am I doing everything wrong? Or right?

Austin is mad because I made him go to bed on time last night because he was really tired and crabby, plus I wouldn't help him with his homework because he waited until the last minute again and I had warned him about that.

Tara is crabby because she is getting smarter every day and demanding that her opinions count in all situations. She sat on her bed while I pulled shorts, pants, shirts, skirts, one by one, past the princess' scrutiny until I told her to figure out what she wants to wear and come downstairs afterward. "NO, WAAAAIT," she screamed.

When she was finally dressed and walked into the kitchen, she was wearing a blue skirt with white socks pulled all the way up her shins and pink Crocs/sandals. I gently suggested that she at least fold the socks down,( the 70s look is a bit old, ) and she wailed again that I hurt her feelings. Making her lunch a few minutes later, she studied each item with the same kind of scrutiny. "NO, I don't want THAT. And no not THAT." SIGH.

Meanwhile, as I'm dealing with an unreasonably teary Tara, Austin silently slipped on his coat and walked out the front door to catch the school bus. "Have a good day," I called out to him. He kept walking. But I noticed he was wearing one of the newly washed shirts I left out for him last night. So I guess maybe he doesn't totally hate me.

What are you looking at, Mommy?

Sometimes we forget to slow down and live in the present. We are too busy planning and scheduling our lives. It's been a long time since I had a "how cool is this" moment when I stop--and take everything in.

You watch your little girl change every day, but you change too.

Tara likes to pick up inchworms and find them a comfortable home on a small leaf. She catches toads and puts them in her little pink cage for a day, but then sets them free before nightfall. She cuts out little paper hearts without even folding them first. She takes off her shoes to run barefoot on the little stones at her Grandma's park. She lays on her tummy on the kitchen floor to watch the cat eat his can of food (he used to glance at her, now he is used to it).

Last week, Tara convinced me to take her for a ride on her new bike. Of course I was too busy to do this, but I went anyway. At the pond at the park where she fed crackers to the ducks, the sun setting on the water, the sounds of a boys' baseball game nearby, I felt myself exhale. There were a million things I should have been doing but suddenly I didn't care.

This little girl was showing me a glimpse of her world, where she takes everything in and lives each experience to the fullest. I think I was having one of those "how cool is this" moments. Tara turned back to look at me as I gazed at the water. Then she asked, "What are you looking at, Mommy?" Nothing, I said. And everything.

Tara-isms Part XX

--Tara was in the kitchen, peering into the refrigerator. Her brother Austin was in the family room, teasing her about something or other (who keeps track?) She leaned over to shout back to him: "Austin, stop saying that!.....HONESTLY!" (how grown up a 5-year-old sounds when she's using one of your words, tone and all.)

--Tara has a playdate today with her friend Ellie from school. Her friend's mom was to pick them up after school and take them to Ellie's house for a few hours. Last night at bedtime, an excited Tara ran through the timeline cycle with me. "Am I going to Ellie's today?" No, tomorrow honey, after school. "When I wake up?" Well, yes, but after school. "The next day?" No, tomorrow, not the next day. "Today then?" Deep sigh. It always seems like I'm more tired at her bedtime.

--She has a big case of "I didn't do it" this week. For instance, she was standing next to my tulips near a big tree, holding a few purple petals in her hand. Why did you pull on the tulip? I asked her. "I didn't do it."
I pointed out to her that she has at least one pair of shoes in every room of our house. "I didn't DO it," she proclaimed. Oh so those pink plastic Barbie play shoes walked in there by themselves? Well, you guessed it. She blamed the cat. Imagine that.

Tara and the tea party

teaparty 006
Originally uploaded by me

Soccer part II

Tara was so giddy to see her dad and brother standing on the sidelines at her soccer game Monday that she she seemed to have extra energy on the field (is that possible?)

She was hopping, running, squealing, spinning. And that was during her 5-minute break.

Tara took the ball down the field at lightning speed (did so) right in front of us a few times, and I don't know who was more excited, her or her cheering family. What is it about watching our kids in sports that gets us all so pumped up?

PS: Thanks to my Mom for a lovely Mother's Day at her house on Sunday!

Mother's Day

A happy Mother's Day to all the moms who have children and to all the moms waiting for their children from faraway lands.

Don't give up.

Which way is up

In our state, and our state of mind, we suffer through the winters by staying indoors in the cold, dark evenings. Exercise is limited to walking in the wind, scraping the ice off our windshields, and driving in slow, slippery traffic.

But when the shade comes up for spring, that glorious season, we run around like crazy people trying to jam in as much fun and sun and outdoor activities as humanly possible all the way until Thanksgiving, if we're lucky. We work a whole year's worth into about 7 or 8 months.

Which brings me to today. After a full day at work, I will rush home to take Tara to her second-ever soccer practice and game at 6:30 p.m. How will she do after her stellar debut last week? Only time will tell.

Afterward, I will rush her home to a sitter, the girl next door whom Tara adores, and I will scurry off to Austin's baseball game that starts at 8 p.m. and is about a 35 minute drive from my house. That's right, a ballgame under the lights for a 13-year-old's baseball team.

And the crazy thing about all of this is: I'm looking forward to it. Bring on spring!

Run Tara Run

soccer08 005
Originally uploaded by me

Alas, she didn't score any goals. And she did cry once, when she got kicked hard in the shin--just above the shin guard. The cold air made it sting. But she recovered quickly.

Just wait until next week...

See the light

It's warm and sunny and Tara and I are actually starting to crawl out of the sickness that darkened our doorway ALL week. We are both still suffering from colds and coughs, but hopefully past the multiple days of fever. I've been told that lots of kids in her school were out sick last week from a fever. Let's hope this is the last wave of illness before summer.

Today we are both still in our pajamas, hanging out and watching movies. Sure, that sounds fun, but it would be a lot more fun if we weren't sniffling, coughing and weak!

So I finally found a few minutes to read other families' blogs. It's so sad to see some have gone home childless, others have been spending weeks and weeks in Ukraine. What is going on?!? It's just so frustratingly sad.

I have just learned that a few days ago, Ukraine's president signed a law that prohibits singles from adopting in Ukraine, and also allows only 45 years between the age of the oldest parent and the child they are adopting. Message boards say some singles and older parents who are in Ukraine and met their children aren't getting court dates now because of the new law. This is tragic! Not only for the families (suffering an indescribable pain and sense of loss I'm sure), but the children who were bonding with these families and preparing to leave the orphanage for good. What happens to them now?? They will feel abandoned. Again.

Meanwhile, we have just passed our "Gotcha Day" with Tara. Three years ago I carried her out of an orphanage in Kiev. We only celebrate it silently now. Her transition and assimilation into our family is rather seemless these days. In other words, she has always been a part of our family.

Still down and out

Today we are both home sick. I caught the fever.
Tara's doctor checked her out this morning, it's apparently a virus and not strep throat or anything.
A little time and TLC and she'll be fine. Now how long will it take ME to get well, when I don't have time to be sick??

Down and Out

Little Tara Vika rarely gets sick, so when I saw her crumpled up on the floor in the hallway outside my bedroom door early this morning, I knew she was not over the virus that struck her late Saturday night.

Poor little thing, her cheeks were flush and damp from tears, her hair tangled and in her face. She was angry at me, as children blame their parents when the world isn't quite right.

Her forehead was hot. "I need medicine and you were taking too long!" she screamed at me. I scooped her (ahh, this must be why my back started hurting yesterday). We headed downstairs where I set her up on the couch with a blanket. I gave her some medicine. You will start to feel better in just a little while, I told her and kissed her head. It's nice that John works from home; I don't have to scramble to try to figure out my work situation.

Seeing her on the couch with a blanket, it reminded me of the days when I got to stay home sick. There's something so comforting about skipping school and lying on the couch all day. I should have bought some ginger ale, that's what my mom always gave us. But Tara likes to have popsicles when she is sick or injured.

When I was ready to leave, Tara seemed to be feeling better. She sat up a little straighter and managed a weak smile. Then asked: "How many popsicles can I have today?"

Remember when...

Three years ago today we were stuck in Ukraine, trying to figure out how to re-do our fingerprints with the FBI so that we could get a Visa and take Tara home to the good ol' USA. It's so hard to believe that it's been three years already since Tara's adoption. But then again, we can't imagine our lives without her.

If you want to visit or revisit this crazy day in our 2005 adoption story, you can click right here.

So this means I must file another annual report on how Tara is doing and send it along with 10 photos to the Ukraine Embassy in Chicago, and they are supposed to send it to the adoption center in Ukraine, and maybe even forward it to Tara's actual orphanage in Kyiv. I always wonder if the pictures ever reach her orphanage and whether her former caregivers get to see them. They would be amazed at her smile these days!

So this is a shout-out to my dear cousin Sally, who was with me in Ukraine three years ago this week. It was an adventurous, frustrating, exhausting time. But having Sally there made it so much better. Plus, she could speak English.

Tara is SO ready

At the zoo 2008
Originally uploaded by lessnau

Tara's teacher

Tara's teacher is going to tell me Tuesday about Tara's skills and readiness for kindergarten in the fall. I'm anxious to hear what she has to say about the little princess. She has been able to write her name, and mine, and John's, for more than a year. She can double-knot tie her shoes, sing the ABCs and we all know about her charm. Does charm get you into kindergarten?

Give me an "S"

OK, we did it. We signed Tara up on a soccer team. I'm officially a soccer mom, though I don't have a van. I know that the kids are just going to all run after the ball all over the field in a big clump, with no real offense or defense plan of action. But isn't it just hysterical to watch?!

We signed up in the YMCA league and they already gave Tara her red and blue reverseable jersey. She wears it after school. A lot. And the games or practices haven't even started yet. Add this to Austin's travel baseball schedule and we'll be pretty busy. But it's outdoors stuff and you can't beat that. If spring ever actually arrives.

In the quiet of the night

Tara is tucked in bed, at last. I took today off to get some things done, but in the afternoon after pre-school, we rode bikes through the puddles at the park, picked up some dinner at Boston Market, watched a movie, she took a shower, I read her a story, I rubbed her back in the dark. While she was in school, I took Austin to a matinee. We were the only two people in the show, but we still whispered.

I was going to say that I can't believe I haven't even had a few minutes this week to update this blog. But just the last few hours are pretty indicative of how the whole week has gone by. It seems like some activity filled every waking moment.

I told John last week when I was hiding Easter eggs in the pool table pockets in the family room, like I do every year, that holidays are very important in our lives, even if they seem repetitive. They are the landmarks of time, they help us remember. Where were you Feb. 5? Ok, where were you on Easter Sunday? Or Hannukah? See what I mean?

But then what about those days that aren't big celebrations but are just as important? And how can we make sure we remember them too?

In the quiet of the night, that's when I really catch my breath. We watch our favorite shows and snack on ice cream or fruit. John and I try to have private TV time, when the kids are asleep or at least pretending to be. It is then, at the end of the routine days, that I remember the things Tara did or Austin said. Or the way they make each other laugh so hard. Or cry. Or scream. But always laugh again. Nothing amazing about these last few days, really, just remembering the sounds of Tara squealing when she flew through a deep puddle on her bike, or screaming when she got stuck in the mud. I remember being alone with in the movie theater with Austin, chuckling in the dark, sipping his frozen Pepsi.

Aren't these the times that we want to remember most?

Tara questioning authority

Tara questioning authority
Originally uploaded by me

Happy Easter to all!

Famous Grandma

Mom and Mayor
Originally uploaded by me

Two words

Yes, two words: Crazy busy.

We've been running from morning until night lately, mostly with fun stuff but even that can wear you out.

It seems like the warmer it gets, the more plans we make. I think that even a hint of spring in the air has given us all springs in our steps. The days are longer, we are seeing sunshine, kids are playing at the park.

I took Tara to a professional photographer yesterday, we have never done that with her. It will be interesting to see how the pictures turn out. I will try to post one or two when we get them back. She smiled on cue every time. We were changing her outfits, putting her hair up, then down. She was a good sport. But then finally, after more than an hour (!) she declared: "OK, that's enough. Just two more pictures and we're done."

John took Tara to a cousin's 3-year-old birthday party on Saturday evening, I had to take Austin to a mandatory baseball practice. Tara went kicking and screaming, I had to buckle her into the seat in John's car. She wanted me to go, too. Five minutes down the road, she apparently stopped fussing. She had a fabulous time, John says, and wasn't afraid to talk to people. When her cousin was opening his gifts, Tara just sat right up front so she could watch. This is good, she needs to get out with John more and not be so dependent on me. But frankly, I don't always mind...

Tara-isms Part XXI

Tara and Austin were goofing around in the back seat of the car (he is 12) All I could see in the rear view mirror was arms flailing, fingers grabbing, a foot trying to kick a brother. Lots of laughs. And then Tara squealed, "Let go of my arm ankles!" (um, wrists? we call them wrists.)

Tara has more recently picked up some kind of southern-speak, even though she was born in Ukraine and we live in the midwest. She has been saying, "I was gonna about to..." (I cringe) When we lived in Atlanta, pre-Tara, people used to say, "I might could do that."
Now Tara stops herself and says, "I was gonna about to...GOOO-EEEENG TO." OK, catching on. But we can cut back on some of the vowels there. And the volume.

On a particularly cold Saturday when four people in the house can wear on each other's nerves, I finally scooped Tara up and took her to run some errands. Five minutes into the drive, she burst into tears. Apparently, Austin ate the little bag of crackers she had wanted, that she had left on the kitchen counter for four days. Yes, four days untouched. So he ate them. "I WANT A DIFFERENT BROTHER!" she belted out. It's not so easy sister, I told her. We're all stuck with each other. Thank goodness.

How does this happen

They don't know me and I don't know them but I'm trying to make sense of what has happened to an American family in Ukraine right now that had three bad referrals in a row of children mostly too sick or mentally ill to leave the orphanage. Their files did not come close to explaining their actual conditions. The family traveled across the country and back.

It is heartbreaking. They will be shown no more files. They were told it's illegal. Illegal? They were told that it must not have been God's will. There are 100,000 orphans in Ukraine and somehow there was not one child available for them to take home and raise as their own. Is that God's will? They were open to ages, gender, even siblings. This is simply devastating. They did everything exactly the same as the other families---the documents, the doctor's appointments, the home study, the updates.

Many families are arriving home in the U.S. with their new children, others are getting referrals, some are waiting to travel to Ukraine, their high hopes tangling with their fears.

And this family, emotionally drained and physically spent, was given such a raw deal that it's unimaginable how they must feel right now. But as they prepare to leave Ukraine, they are thinking not so much about themselves but of all the children waiting for families. And the one or two children that they could have taken in and raised as their own. They would have given them a good life.

Drew and Rita did all they could.

A lot of dreams were dashed today. Too numerous to count.

How many shots?

"I'm getting a shot in this leg," Tara proudly told us this morning. I didn't know how to break it to her that she would actually be getting more than one. Perhaps even three. Today was her exam that is required for kindergarten in the fall, which includes updates on immunizations.

In the office, the friendly doctor looked at Tara's file and then said in a sort of hushed tone, "She's five." Yes, yes, right, I said. She's five. She turned five in January. "I'm five!" Tara said.

The doc strained her smile and tried again, "No, I mean, she needs five..." OH! I said. OH! Right. OK. Um. C'mon Tara, hop up here on the table. The doc handed me five sheets of paper, each explaining the purpose and the risks of each of the immunizations. She needs another chicken pox shot? I asked. "Yes, a booster shot." The word booster sounds like they use a giant contraption and punch you with it. I never liked that word.

Tara was brave. Tara is always brave. The most painful one was the pinch in the back of her arm for the chicken pox shot. She clenched her teeth but didn't cry. She rarely cries at the doctor's. (Remember she laughed at the flu shot?)Then she got two shots in the front of each of her thighs. Boom boom boom boom. Like that. She was very still. She watched every part of it. "You are the bravest girl I have ever seen," the doctor said.

Tara sat up. I saw her little chin start to tremble. She was fighting it but she finally hit a breaking point with a very quiet whimper. I picked her up and hugged her, she hid her face in my neck, It's ok to cry honey, even big, strong grownups might cry from five shots, I told her. "Will I get 5 stickers for this?" she asked, one tear streaming down her cheek.

At the check-out desk, the sympathetic clerk let Tara pick out five stickers. Walking back to the car, Tara said, "I want to share these stickers with my friends at school." Today is a snow day, so we'll share those tomorrow, I told her.

So the doctor says Tara's height, weight, development, blood pressure, etc etc etc: "Perfect." The doctor used that word. Tara is ready for kindergarten. But we knew that, didn't we?

Hanging out

Clearwater08 055
Originally uploaded by me

Back to reality

We're all in our places today. Our daily routine is back and I was surprised that the kids actually got up on time this morning without much fuss. This is not an easy task after sleeping in for nine straight days. We got out of the house with our lunches, my coffee mug, Tara's school bag. Austin made it to the bus stop on time. Life was good.

I was on automatic pilot driving to Tara's school when I bumped her chocolate milk right into her bag, covering her blanket with brown streaks. Don't trust the sippy cup tops. Ugh. We turned around and headed back home to get another cotton blanket, which I found jammed under some towels in the upstairs linen closet. At the pre-school she insisted that I put four little braids in her hair, pouting when I said I was in a hurry. The braids took 10 minutes. I have a hard time saying no to her, especially when I am dropping her off and the working mom guilt thing kicks in. Plus, I know I will miss her throughout the day, those silly things she says, the hugs for no reason.

Finally, I was driving to work, sipping my coffee, the radio blasting some 1980s tunes and suddenly, a car pulls up alongside me and the woman is waving for me to open my window. This is never a good sign. She is pointing at my back tire: "It's low," she shouted. OK< thanks, I said, closing my window and then gripping the steering wheel for four miles to the next exit. Now my knuckles hurt. I turned off the music as though I might hear a warning signal before a tire blows.

I pulled into a gas station at the air machine and hopped out of my car. Sure enough, the back tire was very low. Oh, 75 cents for air. I dug in the bottom of my purse for some change, amidst the fuzzy Skittles and Tara's chewed gum in a tissue, and plugged in the money and pumped some air into the tire. There was no gauge to check it, so I just pushed on it with my fingers, like you do with a bike tire. Good grief. I need to check it again before going home today.

So when I got to work a little bit late, I felt like I already used up a whole day. Anyone else ever feel like that?

Heading home

Clearwater08 050
Originally uploaded by me

Busy doing something close to nothing

Florida08
Originally uploaded by me

ahhh

Clearwater08 017
Originally uploaded by me

A little R & R and some sunshine

This is it, we're heading south to spend a few days in the sunshine and ocean air. Tara has been so giddy all day, she has been driving us, well, crazy!

Sometimes she acts like our cat---she climbs in the suitcase while we're packing, she jumps on the bed when we're laying out what we're taking, she walks so close behind me talking all the while that she bumps into me when I stop, she hops up and down the hallway inside a pillowcase like she's in a potato sack race. Yes, this is all true. And bless her little heart, she clearly needs some outdoor playtime too!

Time to go, I'm still looking for my water shoes. I think they're somewhere under my boots and snow pants...

Tara-isms Part XX

We're sitting down to eat dinner last night and Tara says, "Oh no, not chicken again! It's so annoying!"

She still can't quite get the hours, days, weeks situation down. Last night we were picking out clothes for her to wear the next day, she said, "I'm going to wear that yesterday." I reminded her that yesterday already happened. "OK, I'm going to wear that in five days." You are? "Yes, for five minutes." Ok...

She told me that a boy in school named Nate is her boyfriend. We were watching "Hannah Montana" and a teen boy kissed a girl and Tara said: "You have to be married to kiss. Right Mommy?" Right! I said. :-)

Bathing suits and snow pants

Tara walked into the family room yesterday in her new blue one-piece bathing suit, sat down and watched TV. That's right, her bathing suit. In February. It is 12 degrees outside. The countdown to Florida has, apparently, begun.

Let no one get in the way of a 5-year-old anticipating the beach. We leave in a week for five sun-filled days in Florida. It might as well be this afternoon, as far as Tara is concerned.

I ordered the Beach Beauty to change into something warmer. Sometime in the afternoon, we went to the pharmacy to get a few things. Tara was dressed much more appropriately in her purple pants and matching hoodie sweatshirt. On the way to the store, she got a bit antsy. "I have an itch! I have an itch!" she yelled. Bundled up in a down coat, she couldn't quite get to the spot to scratch. "Hurry!" she said. "Hurry!!"

We pulled into the parking lot and I quickly opened the Drama Queen's door to help her out. She frantically pointed to a spot on her back as though she was covered in bugs. I pulled up her coat and her sweatshirt to reveal, what else, her bathing suit.

Why are you wearing this??! I asked. "Because I like the way it feels," she said. Indeed...

Tag I'm it

I have been "tagged" by my friend Susan, mother of Rachel from China, to reveal 7 things about myself, and then to tag other bloggers to do the same.

I'm not usually an Internet game player, but I can't say no. You don't want to make adoptive moms mad, we are a very tough group.

OK, so here is my Top 7 List of Previously Mostly Unknown Things About Me.

1: I usually forgive but I never forget (I'm not proud of this one.)

2: I'm decent in a lot of sports but I'm not great at any one in particular.

3: I'm a writer but I've always felt my sister was the better writer even though she did not study this in college. She's also better at sports (see number 2 above).

4: I can probably hold a conversation about anything for 10 minutes. This is a specific skill that journalists learn in school, I think. That, or the degree in liberal arts only goes so far.

5: I'm a Scorpio. But I guess most of my friends already know this (and see number 1.)

6: Family and friends mean everything to me. I could walk away from anything else--a job, a town, an expensive car. I would throw myself in front of a bus for my two kids. If I had to. Not that I want to.

7: I'm the youngest of five kids. My mom always told everyone that I was the baby of the family. When I'm around all of my siblings, I feel like I'm 14 years old.

I'm supposed to tag some fellow bloggers. I'll pick Greta and Wendy.
Enjoy!
Check out their blogs to see if they played. Leave them a message to let them know you visited.

"This is the one"

The journey was long, the skies were gray and the wind was cold. Inside, the scene of families crammed in the waiting room and government workers walking briskly through hallways was surreal. It was finally our turn and we sat down at the desk with wide eyes and big hopes. John and I opened the large binder and saw page after page of photos and descriptions of children who need families. Many of the pages had sticky notes attached to indicate various illnesses recently diagnosed.

Our facilitator was speaking to the psychologist in Russian and then told us that a little girl just became available a few days ago. We stared at her file. We saw a smiling 10-month old with a sweet face. She had just turned 2 and lived in a Kyiv orphanage. We could stay in the big city instead of having to travel 17 hours by train or 6 hours in treacherous car ride to some far-flung region. Her report said she was healthy. We stared at her some more. "This is the one," we said.

That was three years ago today.

Birthday, braces, baseball, kindergarten?

Gymnastics Birthday
Originally uploaded by me

Tara turns 5

Happy Birthday to our sweet little girl, Tara Vika. We can't believe our Ukrainian princess turns 5 on Sunday. This video was taken the night before her birthday.

Their three sons

A Knoxville couple brought home their three new sons from Ukraine this week and a TV crew greeted them at the airport. This is a must-see.
Check it out: Melissa and Steve.

Winter blahs?

We smile and joke about how we don't have enough time in the day to get everything done. Sometimes people ask us how we manage. We don't always take the time to think about it, probably for fear that things would fall apart. Just because we stop, it doesn't mean the clock stops, too.

If you are nodding your head, you might be a working mom.

I know all moms work because there is so much to do at home and with the kids. But then there are the moms with jobs outside the home too. There are a lot of us out there. We have an unofficial support group, though no one really has the time to meet.

But find comfort in this: We all know what you are going through. We all know that your house doesn't have to be perfect all the time, your kids don't always have to look like they stepped out of a magazine (especially when you gave up the battle over what they will wear that day.) We know that meals in the car and frantic stops for last-minute cupcakes for the class party are the norm. But it's ok: we're all sisters in this life and we support you.

I rarely do this and please don't call me Oprah but I'm recommending a book. It's called Take Time for your Life. I bought it a few years ago and it sits by my bedside so I can read a few chapters every once in a while. It tells you to slow down, pick your priorities, cut off people and things that suck your energy, take some time to do nothing but sit and think. It's not touch-feely, it's matter of fact. You will find some clarity in your life choices, your family will appreciate your calmer demeanor.

And sisters, this is what we need sometimes. Someone to tell you to take time for your life. Everyone wins.

The easy decision

I'm throwing money at the situation. That's right. I waited too long to really plan a birthday party for Tara, and I didn't want to do something at our house because I'm worn out from the holidays, so I scrambled around and found somewhere to host it. A gymnastics place. It feels like a brilliant idea: About 10 of Tara's adorable little energetic pals will get to do all of those fun rolling and jumping and climbing activities with a teacher for more than an hour in a kids gym. Afterward, the hungry and sweaty children will be served pizza then cake. If there's time, Tara will open gifts.

And all the while, I will stand by and enjoy the festivities. Right after I cut them a check.

The countdown

A handmade calendar is taped to Tara's closet door. It is only the month of January. Because in the mind of a 4-year-old, it's the only month that matters right now. In less than two weeks, little Tara Vika turns 5. Every night before she climbs into bed, she puts a pink heart sticker on the day. She can see that we are moving closer to Jan. 27. She is ready to burst with excitement.

Meanwhile, I don't have a thing planned. I don't want to host another adult/kids party at my house, and I'm not real keen on some of the popular kids party places like Chuck E. Cheese. Screaming kids, loud music, scary mascot. No thanks. There isn't enough Excedrin to handle that. So what's a mom to do. And what's a last-minute mom to do. I'm checking out a few places like our local athletic club. They host kids parties, but they probably cost a lot. Sigh.

When I was a kid, we had our siblings and maybe one friend come over and sing Happy Birthday with a cake. That was about it. I had just one party, in sixth grade, a sleepover and it was awesome, except when my sister dropped me on my head when my friends were all lifting me horizontally with their fingers in some kind of voo-doo seance thing.

But kids today...well, now I sound like my Mom and others in her generation. It just seems like we all created this crazy birthday buzz and now our kids are bursting with anticipation for their next party. OK Tara, this year's party is the last one. Riiiiight.

TGI Friday for whom?

We have rainy/snowy and overall gloomy weather here today and it's so hard to get excited about anything. So I browsed through some of the blogs of families who are in Ukraine right now and it reminded me that no matter how dreary our days might look, at least we're here in the good ol' USA where there's hot water, American TV and a language that we can recognize (most of the time.) And say what you want about the U.S. government, but you don't know the hassles and delays of bureaucracy until you've tried an international adoption.

And I hope my sister doesn't mind, but I'm quoting her comment from a previous blog when I wrote about waking Tara Vika up every morning, because it really says it all:

I pray for all the mothers and fathers out there: Stay with their adoption process, no matter how difficult and frustrating. Don't give up on a child who is waiting for you to gently wake them up. Don't give up on a child who is waiting to find their dream is real.

If you know Tara

...you have seen her dimple when she laughs.

...you know that she doesn't give up until she gets what she wants.

...you might have noticed that she talks. A lot.

...you may have noticed that sometimes she is very quiet, like when she is riding in the back seat on a rainy day, listening to the music and gazing out the window. You would always wonder what she is thinking. Or what she remembers.

...you know that she knows she is adopted, but she probably doesn't like when people talk about it extensively, in front of her, as though she doesn't know what they are saying.

...you have figured out that she wants to be like everyone else. And no one else.

Back in the groove

In the darkness this morning, I pushed open the bedroom door covered in Dora stickers and slinked over to the small bed to get a closer look at the little lump under the butterfly blanket. She was so snug. I leaned in to kiss her warm head, her messy morning hair in a swirl around her face. "Time to wake up sweetie pie," I whispered in Tara's ear.

She pulled the covers over her head and flipped over, her knees tucked in and her bottom straight up. I knew how she felt. Austin felt the same way. He was in the next room trying to slick his hair into place with water. Can it really be the day to go back to school and work after 11 glorious days off for the holidays?

It seemed like we had so much time to do a lot, or nothing at all. To visit family and friends, or stay home and get cozy on the couch. We didn't even always answer the phone (sorry). What a luxury.

Now I sit in my office, actually missing those little buggers. Co-workers come by with post-holiday cheers and the courteous questions about how vacations were spent. But we are all carrying the dark clouds over our heads: the holidays are over. Now it's time to get crackin' on 2008. But can't we pull the covers over our heads just one more time?

Here's to 2008

Three years ago in January, we received a letter in the mail that took three weeks to arrive, announcing our appointment at Ukraine's adoption center on Feb. 2. Our first reaction was, oh no, not in the dreadful winter. Actually I think John's very first reaction was, oh no, we're going to miss the Super Bowl.

I reassured him that we would be able to find a television somewhere in Kiev that had a satellite dish. And we did! But the game started at midnight Ukraine time, and that would mean walking home in the blistering cold down dark alleys from the Irish pub at 3 a.m. and our appointment with the orphanage inspector was the next morning. We ended up not watching the game...

Reading other blogs is like a trip down memory lane--glitches, delays and frustrating paper chases and all. It was a risk, and very difficult some days, and we almost turned back a few times, but for some reason we kept moving forward. So 2005 will be a year that we will never forget.

But we look forward to 2008 as Austin becomes a teenager (gasp) and little Tara Vika turns 5. She will start kindergarten in the fall. She continues to amaze us every day with the spark in her eyes, the things she says, the love she gives. Sometimes she is defiant, often she is determined, and always she is courageous.

May you all have a happy, healthy and adventurous 2008!

Happy Christmas to all

Tara Christmas 07
Originally uploaded by me

An interview with Tara:
What do you like about Christmas: "Getting pictures with Austin. I like my gymnastic Barbies."

Who do you like to see on Christmas. "Santa. And Grandma. And the whole room of people that I know."

Why do you like your picture taken? "I like to look pretty in a picture. And that's it. I don't want to say anything more."

Holiday happenings

Shopping, wrapping, cleaning, preparing. Trying to take a few moments here and there to absorb it all, to really feel the Christmas spirit. It's hard to imagine it is only a few days away.

This picture was taken at Tara's ballet class last week when they could wear any costumes they wanted. Most of the girls showed up as princesses.

Yesterday Tara was whining about something when John said to her: You sound like a little baby. She replied, defiantly: "I'm NOT a baby, I'm a sweetie pie." Indeed.

The gift of time

The television was off and I was in the family room folding laundry last week, a magazine perched on the couch next to me. After a few minutes, I noticed something peculiar: Silence. No one was asking me for something, or fighting over the TV, or telling me they were hungry.

I listened again. Nothing. Concerned, I went upstairs and found every one in their rooms (John in his office) and they were all busy with their own activities. I slipped back down to the family room, unnoticed. Without even realizing it, my family had given me the gift of time. Peaceful moments, and I wasn't even stealing them.

As Tara gets older, I notice that I'm getting little pockets of time when I least expect it. And it's simply lovely. She will be 5 years old next month and has definite interests. This does not mean she has stopped following me around when I'm cleaning until I spin around and bump into her by accident. In fact, last weekend I was trying to squeeze in a 10-minute power nap and she came in my room with her automatic keyboard and announced that she was going to play my favorite song for me while I "rested." It was kind of loud...

However, I remain optimistic that these pockets of time will continue to increase and some day I will wish I saw her little face waiting for me as soon as I exit the bathroom door. But for now, I'm going to enjoy the occasional gift of time.

Say what? Part XIII

So we're driving to school today and Tara blurts out: "It's hell!" Startled, I asked her to repeat. She said it again. It's always funny when kids repeat stuff they hear, but this sounded bizarre coming from her. I asked her to say it again. She says, "Everybody's going to hell."

OK this freaked me out, I was thinking about those scary movies when the kids are possessed. Then she points: "Right there, another hell. We're going downhell." OH! I say, "HILL." Yes, hell, she says. Whew. We can stop blessing ourselves now.

We went to get our flu shots recently. Austin was disappointed that they didn't have FluMist, the painless nasal spray. I got my shot first, then Austin as Tara watched each time. And finally, Tara pulled up her sleeve and that tiny, pale arm was showing. "OK," said the nurse, "this might just sting a little bit." Tara was watching so closely that her nose was almost jabbed by the long needle. Austin and I both gulped when we saw it pierce Tara's flesh. But there were no tears. Instead, Tara giggled. "That tickles," she said.

The nurse was rather surprised: "That's the first time I've ever heard that! I'm going to go home and tell my husband about her. He whines about getting shots." Yes, my sister insists that Tara is going to be a doctor someday. Anyone need more proof?

We went to the dentist this morning to get our teeth clean. Tara was on one end of the room, I was on the other. We couldn't see each other and I was a bit worried about her. The hygenist said she did a great job of opening her mouth and sitting still.

She asked Tara if she liked going to the dentist or the doctor better. Tara replied: "The doctor!" In the car afterward, I asked Tara if the hygenist asked whether she flosses every day, which she doesn't. "Yes, she did ask," Tara said. And what did you tell her? I asked, reluctantly. "I told her yes!" Good girl.

Santa's list

Some friends and family are asking me what the kids want for Christmas. This always feels a little weird to me, to tell people exactly what to buy for our kids. I know it makes things much easier for the well-meaning buyers, but it still feels like it's a bit removed from the true meaning of the holidays.

OK, so now I'll admit that it's pretty fun to send my brother off into the Barbie aisle at Toys R Us, or my brother-in-law in search of pricey X-box games in crowded electronics stores. Time to go work on those lists...

It's beginning to look a lot like ...

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Everywhere you go
There's a pile of broken lights
Wrinkled bows and snowflake tights
We never are quite ready for the snow.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Soon the lists will show
Lots of toys and expensive stuff
But it's never really enough
They must want me to spend all of our dough.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
My gas tank is running low
I even tried to shop online
But that took even more time
Can't we just donate to charity and let it go?

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Everywhere you look
The cat chewed on the holiday wrap
The kids used the cardboard roll as a bat
And now those paper balls fill my kitchen nook.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Time to to hug your mate
Just buy the children some simple things
Don't jump up every time the phone rings
Because soon enough it'll be 2008.

Happy holidays to all
Play more, stress less.

Flashlight!

So Tara and I pulled into the Target store parking lot the other night to buy some new snow pants and she began to scream, hysterically. Oh my gosh, what's wrong? I slammed on the breaks in the parking spot.

"I forgot the soundcan at school! I needed to bring it home! WAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" Tears were streaming down her cheek. I couldn't figure out what she was talking about. Soundcan? What is that? Did you just remember this right now? "YEEESSS! It's all DADDY'S FAULT!" she wailed. John had picked her up from school a few hours earlier. She was so upset she was shaking. This wasn't her typical cry.

Do you put stuff in it to shake and make a sound? I asked. "NOOO!!" After many questions that frustrated her more,I finally figured out that the kids are taking turns bringing home a can and they are supposed to put things in it that start with a particular letter, a sound. For Tara, it was the letter N.

I told her not to worry, that we will arrive before the teachers and fill the sound can and they won't even realize we didn't take it home. This calmed her down (though I think she still sought out John and yelled at him when we got home, to which he replied, "A soundcan??")

So that night we hunted for some items that start with an N. N-n-n Napkin, n-n-nail polish, nickels. I think it's a pretty cool school project, teaching the pre-schoolers to sound out letters in words. Then Tara excitedly proclaimed: "I know! N- N- N- flashlight!"

We have been retelling this one at dinnertime, it still makes us laugh. N N N flashlight!

Tara's World

In Tara's drawings, there are rainbows and sunshine, her and her brother, her mom and dad, her cat and sometimes the dog she never met. There is a house and grass and some flowers. There are a few clouds next to the sun, with a few rain drops falling.

She draws the nearly identical picture over and over again. Sometimes she staples them together and calls it her book. These are all over the house, they are slid under our bedroom door on weekend mornings. Sometimes she tells me to take one with me, when she is being left behind. Sometimes she asks me to draw her a picture, and then dicates its familiar subjects: A rainbow, first red then orange, then yellow...right down to the last color. She shows me where I go wrong when I improvise with the colors.

She does other drawings and has big explanations for each line, each person, each square cut out. A few times, her art came back from school and it was all black finger paint blurred together like a scary night. I asked if she had a bad day or a nightmare. She said she didn't and that she just felt like painting something all black. But always, she goes back to drawing rainbows and her family under them.

I suppose a child psychologist could have a field day with this. Me, I just smile and hug her every time she hands me one.

Much to be thankful for...

The tables were set, the candles lit, the turkey nearly finished when our guests arrived for Thanksgiving. Timing is the key when you have so many side dishes, coffee and dessert. I told my brother that one year, after all of our family had left, I found a side dish of green beans in the microwave. We had a good laugh over that.

This year, after everyone left, I opened the refrigerator and realized I had forgotten to prepare the ham I bought for dinner. Good thing there was enough turkey to go around...!

So this is the time of year we stop and think about what we are all thankful for. Close family, good friends, our children, however they arrived here. And now is also the time to think about the children that are less fortunate. For me, that's all of the orphans we left behind in Ukraine. It's so hard to imagine the children that Tara spent her first years with may still be living in that same orphanage, waiting and hoping for a family to come and get them. And as they get older, even 5 or 6 years old, their chances of adoption become remarkably less.

So for anyone in a mood to improve the lives of a child without a family, I'm providing this link to an organization called Life 2 Orphans. They help the children of Ukraine. There is a list of orphanages that they specifically help. There is one in Kyiv for ages 7-16, which may have been the one that Tara would have ended up in if she was on the typical path of orphans. After 16, the children are set out to make it on their own. If you know a 16 year old, just try to imagine that!

Here is the link to Life 2 Orphans. You can choose an orphanage to help and send actual items, or make a monetary donation, or purchase something in a fundraiser. If it's something you feel the need to do this holiday season, please remember Tara's native land and the little people who are in such need. With her generous soul, I know that she would appreciate it.

Holidays on the horizon

curly 001
Originally uploaded by me

Shake shake shake

We are all being slammed with advertisements on TV and huge catalogs with awesome toys and beautiful people in must-have outfits. And Thanksgiving isn't until next week, here in America.

I started to feel a tad anxious last week and went online to buy some toys for Tara, some gadgets for Austin. I looked for good deals, the best toys possible, the hard-to-find items that are already getting all the hype.

But just as I was about to check out and pay all of this money, I stopped. And I thought about it. And I deleted the file. It is so easy to get caught up in the fray. I really hope we can all be reasonable about our holiday purchases. We say this every year, but we still run around like crazy people trying to get just the right gifts, spend just the right amount of money.

The teachers, the hair stylists, the lawn guys, can't forget any of them.

And apparently it's never too soon. Tara's preschool sent home a note this week about holiday giving. Actually, it was the parent group that sent it, but it was obviously endorsed by the school because the office assistant is in charge.

Parents are "asked" to drop off $25 cash that will be collected and evenly distributed in gift cards to every single person on the staff. OK, that makes it easier, and we really like this school, but I can't help feeling a little like someone turned me upside down by my ankles and is shaking the money out of my pockets. And it isn't even December yet.

Say What? Part XII

halloween 010
Originally uploaded by me

A sick day

Tara stayed home from pre-school yesterday with a cough and stuffy nose, though no fever. Today, she looked and sounded much better and wanted to return to school.

And now I am home sick today. I have realized that this is the first sick day I have been home without kids in 2 years and 7 months. This is because Tara's pre-school was near my work, which is far from home. So when I stayed home, so did she.

Now, I can drop her off at classtime and crawl back into bed. The house is quiet. Should I feel guilty for feeling like this is a luxury?

Halloween cheer

halloween 008
Originally uploaded by /a>

The brave cheerleader

This was Tara's third year trick-or-treating as an American and I must say she gets it. She marched up to houses in her cheerleading outfit, leaving the pom poms in the wagon every time. The new pom poms that I had to chase around to different stores for after she lost one of her old ones at the park a few days ago. (Why do we bother??!)

Her brother Austin chose to run with a pack of friends this year. Groups of neighborhood kids were all around, but at each house, Tara waited for the other goblins and fairies to step away from the porches and then scurried up on her own. Someone at work told me she probably did this to increase the cuteness factor and therefore generate more candy for herself. Now I'm thinking that was indeed her strategy.

They both got enough candy to last through Christmas. Great.

ballet butterfly

ballet butterfly
Originally uploaded by me

Tara-isms Part XXV

--I was trying to get everyone in the car in the morning, that usual hurry-up fussing that parents do. Tara hustled out the front door and said to me, "OK, just calm down, Mommy. Just be calm."

--They had live bats in cages visit Tara's pre-school this week, what a thrill for the kids. I asked her about this: "They had little eyes, and they had vines in their wings!" (huh? oh veins)

--When we walk by the beer cooler at the store, Tara shouts: "Hey! Look! That's what Daddy likes!"

--The cable guy was over the other day, Tara was in the bathroom off the foyer with the door open, shouting to me: "Mommy! Come in here and help! I don't want to have to wash my hands after!"

What's old is new again

So I have been staring at this beige, textured wallpaper in the foyer of our home for years, wanting to tear it down and paint the walls some welcoming, warm color. But then we would want to change the railing on the stairs too, the light fixture is outdated, the hall closet is looking sad. Together, this is a costly job. So we do nothing. And years go by. We are frozen in indecision. It's too daunting to take on.

Day after day, it crosses my mind. Finally on Saturday afternoon, I was walking through the foyer like I do a dozen times a day and I stopped at the corner, leaned forward to get a closer look at the wall, and tugged at the paper just a little. And a little more. Then I called out to Austin and Tara: C'mon guys, help me tear this wallpaper down! And so we did. John didn't know what to make of us when we were laughing and pulling and falling down. Tara took a long sheet of it and made a makeshift slide on the stairs. Austin thought she was crazy, but she convinced him to sit down and give it a try. By now even John was laughing. "C'mon Daddy, slide down!" Tara pleaded. But he's tall and he didn't want to risk injury.

We rolled up the old wallpaper and stuffed it into big garbage bags. There's sort of a catharsis when you start such a project. We all stood there looking at the blank walls, what's old is new again.

And now we have no choice but to plow forward. Painters will give us estimates for the job, we'll browse through colors with cool names like pumpkin, cookie crumb and first anniversary. Yes that's a color in the brown family. We'll do one project at a time, over time. This process symbolizes so many things in life. You can't get what you want until you finally get started. Take is slow, but take the first step.

I can get really sentimental and remember the time I filled out the very first form for Tara's adoption from Ukraine. It was fall of 2003 that we were talking about adopting. By the following June, we turned in all of the paperwork overseas. We found her in February 2005. The process was very intimidating, but once I filled out that first form, I kept right on going.

ghost and goblins oh my

This is my favorite time of year. The fall air is crisp, the threatening clouds move quickly overhead. Halloween is coming soon and there are so many fun and spooky things to look at in the stores and even on front lawns.

Today, Tara went on a field trip to a petting farm. I couldn't wait to get home from work to hear all about it. She went on a hayride and picked out a little pumpkin. When she told us she "milked a cow," we figured she just watched a farmer do it. But then she explained in detail how the milk splashed on her pants. Wow! She actually milked a cow today. How many of us can say that?

Now we are trying to decide on a Halloween costume. She's pretty sure she wants to be a cheerleader, but a friend at school is going to be a ---yes it's true---butterfly princess. So now Tara is uncertain. She was that last year, but it always sounds good to a pre-school girl. Stay tuned. I promise this will be exciting.

Children with hope

Many families are in Ukraine now or heading there by the end of the year, hoping to find children to become part of their families.

Some are trying desperately to adopt a child they met through a hosting program; others are traveling "blind," they will learn about some available children and try to choose when they get there, based on very little information and an outdated picture.

Some of their stories are posted in the column on the right. They are hopeful, frustrated, emotionally drained, physically worn out, yet most remain optimistic through all of the craziness. The documents that keep cropping up that need notarizing, the long lines, the delays, the unanswered questions, sitting in a car for hours while you wait for something from someone, you don't even know what. There is no "complaint department," there's no suggestion box, you can't ask to speak to someone's superior, you just have to sit there and take it. Day after day, week after week. What do we need now? I thought we already did that? It's brutal.

Yet, there they are, traveling across the ocean, schlepping their way through the international adoption system that is basically a blurry, moving target that seems to take longer with each family.

And why, you might ask, do they do this? For lots of reasons, different and the same.

And they probably saw something like this video from a family in the process of trying to adopt a little girl they hosted in 2006. They met these children on a mission trip to Ukraine.

After you see this, if you suddenly feel an urge to adopt, I'll let you know how to get started...

Here is the video.

Caterpillars--an update

I was sweeping the porch this morning when I came upon a caterpillar crawling up the brick next to our front door. Tara was so excited when I spun her around to see the brown and black fury critter. I think it's trying to ring our doorbell, I told her. She dashed inside to get her little caterpillar/butterfly cage. She picked it up gently and placed it inside its new home. Then she gathered leaves and sticks for her new friend. She did everything with such care.

I had told Tara just last week that we might find one near the front porch, but when does something like ever actually work out?

Tears and caterpillars

Sometimes we race through life and miss the little things that are really the most important.

A few weeks ago, little Tara Vika caught a ladybug and a caterpillar and put them in a jar. I poked some holes in the top for air. She filled the jar with leaves, sticks, acorns and a splash of water. She carried that jar around with her a lot. She took it in the car sometimes, and even on a road trip to Grandma's house. She put fresh leaves and splashes of water every so often.

She'd shake it, peer inside, and get so excited to see her little friends. We were always relieved when we spotted them actually moving.

Then Sunday came along, and Tara realized she hadn't changed the leaves or splashed them with water for days. Panic was upon her little face. She took her jar outside and slowly poured out the icky contents; black leaves, sticky acorns, and a live ladybug (!) She set the ladybug free to go back with her family. We don't know when she decided to do that, or even why.

But there was no sign of the caterpillar. And Tara had just picked out a small butterfly cage at the store. She wanted to transfer the furry critter into her cage and watch him in the weeks to come. Tears streamed down her face as she told me she couldn't find her little friend. I was thinking the dark smudge stuck on the bottom of the jar might have been all that was left, but I wasn't certain and I didn't let on.

Tara was genuinely upset, tears and sobs and a little anger, too, when I tried to console her. Finally, I suggested that we go back outside and look for another one. Surely there are more out there, and I even remembered seeing one on the porch before. This cheered her up. The two of us, her clutching the little butterfly cage, walked outside and began looking for caterpillars. I knew this was a longshot, but the possibility made her feel better. We each got a stick and poked around near the porch. No sign of a caterpillar, but she was optimistic.

This was when I got one of those moments that you freezeframe into your memory: Tara and I outside at dusk, dragging little sticks through the grass and leaves near the porch, hunting for caterpillars. All the while, we could see Austin through the living room window, practicing at the piano; we could hear the music, the mistakes, the improvements. John was in the back yard grilling dinner. It is these moments that matter, not the chores and work and errands. But these simple moments.

Little notes

Tara likes to write little notes, cut them out, and leave them in various places around the house. Sometimes on my pillow, sometimes in my chair. I don't know what they say, they are random letters. I didn't know where she got this idea until today, when it dawned on me.

Her pre-school left me a sticky note in her lunchbox earler this week: "Tara does not like the sauce that comes with this pizza lunch."

Today when I dropped her off, her lunchbox from the day before was still hanging in the hallway. A sticky note on it said: "Please remember to check Tara's cubby every day when you pick her up." It should just say, "Don't forget to take her lunchbox home, dummy."

And in her cubby was a bright yellow note, saying we were late picking her up and we now owe $18 (yes, it's $1 per minute...)

Come to think of it, there are signs at my office--"Don't pour coffee in this sink," "Keep microwave clean," "Lock door behind you." We get used to these. Are there too many signs?

Signs, signs, everywhere a sign. Anyone remember that song?

In the darkness

I was sitting in the kitchen reading the paper Sunday morning when Tara walked by briskly, twice. What are you doing? I asked.
"There was a spider so I got tissue and squished him and flushed him down the toilet," she said.

OK. I still squirm when I do that.

I put a night light in Tara's room a few weeks ago because she was having bad dreams. But last night she told me it was too bright in her room. So I took the light out. She wanted the door closed, too. So there's a 4-year-old sleeping in the darkness with the door closed. It doesn't get much braver than that. This morning she told me she had a dream but it was a good one. It was about two bears but they were very nice.

Sometimes she wanders through the house, searching for me. She'll go down into the basement--alone--even at night. I still struggle with that.

What scares this child? Not much. But maybe:

Fear of abandonment. She doesn't think I'll leave her for good, but she doesn't like to miss out on any trip to anywhere in the car.

Fear of missing out: If you are working on any kind of project, she's all over it like a curious cat.

Fear of not getting her share: There better be enough to go around, when Tara is in the mix.

Fear of no more popsicles in the freezer: Oh my, don't even go there.

Settled in

I think we have finally found our groove for the fall. It has taken a while. I can seem pretty unreasonable when I'm directing one child to march off into two different directions at 7 a.m. ("Brush your teeth! Put your shoes on!")

My early September threats that "I'm getting in the car right now with or without you" have almost vanished by now. Hysterical Mom is not a good look.

There's comfort in routine. In the evenings, lunches are prepared, coffee is set up, clothes are laid out. In the mornings, I nudge Austin first, then Tara. Like robots, we head downstairs for the kitchen. Here is where some things can go wrong. A nudge by a big brother; a dramatic, exaggerated drop to the floor; an attack by a hungry cat; missing hair decorations; missing shoes; a plea to watch cartoons for just a little while; remembered homework that must be done.

Some will encourage me to get the kids to bed earlier so that morning routines will run more smoothly. But then, that means I have to get my act together at night too. My whole life can't be one big routine. (!)

Tara-isms Part XI

Tara is in the bathroom when she calls out to her brother: "Austin, can you do me a favorite and get me some toilet paper?"

"I have a lot of new friends at my new school," she says. Oh good, I say, what are their names? "I don't know."

It's time to go, I tell Tara in the morning. She looks at the clock and says, "I know, it's already 35!" Hey, if you don't know, you make it up.

Christmas in September? I tell Tara that we should get her a booster seat for the car. "Santa can bring that," she says. Another day, I am cleaning out her closet and tell her she will need new winter boots this year. "We'll just have Santa bring that for me," she says matter-of-factly. Thoughts of Santa already?! And is he rich??

I ask Tara what she wants to be this year for Halloween, she says butterfly princess. I say, but you're always a butterfly princess on Halloween. She says, "I know, because that's what I am." Indeed...

busy bees and bee stings

In the dark of the early morning, there was a quick knock on our bedroom door. I jumped out of bed still half asleep and darted across the room to open the door. There stood little Tara, holding her stuffed dolphin and a scared expression. I whispered quickly, What is it? What's wrong?
"I had a bad dream," she wailed. I hugged her as I escorted her back to her room. She fell fast asleep under an extra blanket, my hand rubbing her small back.

On the way to school, she told Austin about her bad dream. "It was about a bear and you and me Austin," she said, as though she was telling a scary story around a campfire. "We were in a cave."

Much later that day, John told me Tara's preschool teacher called: Tara was stung by a bee! Is she OK? I asked, trying not to sound hysterical. When did it happen, is she still crying??!! Are you going to pick her up right now??! Tell me the details! He didn't have any, really.

And at the same time, Austin was having his first piano lesson at our house with a new teacher, and we didn't want to leave him home alone with someone we didn't know all that well (hey, we read the papers). So what's a dad to do? Finally after the lesson, John scurried out to pick up Tara.

On my way home from work, I called Austin: Tell me about your piano lesson! Did you like the teacher? What's he like? Did you learn anything yet? Was he nice? (I think "unh, I don't know," was the answer for all of the above. Sigh.

John got on the phone. OK, how is Tara? I asked. He says, "she's fine." Where did she get stung? On the leg? The arm? "I don't know," John said. Like father....

I couldn't take it any more: Put Tara on! MUST HAVE INFORMATION!

"Hello Mommy, I got stung by a bee on my thumb today. I cried for 15 minutes. I got ice on it. When are you coming home?" (Her boo-boo report actually said she "cried for 10 seconds...she was very brave.")

Very soon, I told her, I just want to make sure you are OK. What did you do at school today?

"We played outside, we went to the gym and exercised, I made you a drawing, I played with Mallory." OK, I'll see you soon Tara. "No wait Mommy, I want to tell you something else...." and she went on and on in that sweet little cheerful voice. Ah, someone who likes to share details AND talk on the phone. A girl after my own heart.

T.G.I.F. Ramblings

--John's niece had a baby girl this week, a little sweetie named Mallory. Tara's closest new friend at her new preschool is named: Mallory. Coincidence? Karma? Maybe. But now I know exactly two Mallorys. Met them both within a week's time.

--Tara is used to me picking her up from pre-school, every day, for more than two years, always me because her school was very close to my work. But now, she is near our home and John does the pick up. John is finally getting used to the schedule, remembering to stop what he is doing to go pick her up. But Tara is not so ready to accept that particular change: She kicks him in the shins and says, "Don't EVER do that again Daddy, I want MOMMY to pick me up." Some thanks, eh? And we wonder what the teachers are thinking...

--Tara insists on wearing a skirt or dress every single day, and often it's the same skirt over and over again. We are tired of the same skirts! So we buy her a few more, she wears them constantly. She pulls them out of her dirty clothes hamper. Meanwhile, she has lots of adorable shorts, capris and long pants that I'm trying to get her to wear. Please wear pants sometimes! Why oh why.

A little Tara Time

Visiting the zoo
Originally uploaded by me

Waiting to exhale

You know you're overbooked and too busy when:

--You want to hire a babysitter but your house is such a wreck you would be too embarrassed.
--You want to hire a maid, but see above note.
--Breakfast, lunch and dinner are all decided in about three minutes in a crazy-busy morning of waffle-toasting, lunch-packing and meat-defrosting.
--"OK, Tara (SIGH) wear whatEVER shoes you want to school today...."
--Who wants Taco Bell?
--Cereal for dinner doesn't work two nights in a row.
--You spend four hours of a day off running errands and barely finish by dinnertime.
--You can't possibly memorize a new door code at pre-school because your brain is full.
--You change clothes in your car in the parking lot, and you don't even care if anyone sees you.
--You take a moment to really look at your daughter and realize her clothes are covered in paint from her school day, which ended four hours ago.
--You keep the shower running between kids. "Quick, now! Hurry, bedtime!"
--You give your daughter a book to read at night and promise to return five minutes later to turn the light off and tuck her in, only to remember an hour later, and the little sweetie is sound asleep in the bright light, clutching her book.

School days

It's so hard to believe that the kids go back to school tomorrow. I know it is later than a lot of states, but it still seems to arrive during summer to me. It's 80 degrees and sunny today.

Austin enters seventh grade with new notebooks, a pack of pencils, some pens and book covers. Tara enters pre-K with some adorable new outfits and a Dora the Explorer notebook so she can do her "homework" next to Austin, who doesn't even want to hear that h-word right now. Tara has been off this past week and starts the school year in the Raccoon Room, where the certified elementary school teacher will prepare her for kindergarten next year. The same teacher she had in summer camp will be her main teacher, and some of the same kids will be in her class.

I know it's about time for them to get back to school, as they have become restless these last few days. There has been more screaming, teasing and overall crankiness. Or maybe that's just me.

My Mom used to sing that old song, "School days, school days..." and we five kids would cringe. But I know why she was a little bit giddy this time of year: you get the kids out of the house and doing something important like learning, and you get the family back on a nice routine. But I have a pit in my stomach today as if I'm going bck to school tomorrow.

We love summer. 'nuff said.

Little red Mustang

So I finally sold my toy: a 1992 red convertible Mustang with white leather interior. I couldn't even watch as the man drove it down my driveway to its new home somewhere in the next town. Sometimes I still glance into the garage expecting to see it there. I was a newlywed without kids when I bought it brand new in Atlanta.

It makes perfect sense to sell it, but when should logic ever factor into a fun sports car? Especially a convertible. I drove this when I had my first born, strapping his little car seat backwards in the front seat. My son was cool before he even knew it.

Alas, with two kids and a highway commute to work, the little red car was relegated to a hobby car, and barely driven at all. It was worth more to me than the money that changed hands, but how do you put a price on great memories? And who is going to pay for that??

It's been a few weeks and I'm kind of healed from the experience, as time is a cure for many things. So I was driving home from work yesterday in my green mini-SUV and when I stopped at a red light, a little red sporty convertible pulled up along the left side. I think it was a Mazda. I couldn't help staring at it, the man and woman probably in their 50s didn't even notice my gaze. They were too busy chatting and enjoying the fresh air at their faces. I felt a little nostalgic for my Mustang. Will I ever get to have a convertible again?

Then they peeled in front of me and my question was answered when I looked at their license plate, and I'm not making this up. It said: "KDSRGONE."

A little religion

Kids try to figure things out, and they take what they learn and apply it to their own expanded explanations. I have found this to be most true when it comes to religion, especially when we grownups kind of make up stuff because we can't really explain everything, particularly on their level.

So this brings me to little Tara Vika's World of Religion. Today, when we drove past a cemetery, she tried to explain what happens to people when they die. "They are at the cemetery in the ground and they can't see or hear anything and people bring them flowers," she said. Pretty good, I thought. Then she went on: "And then they peel their skin and go to heaven." Ewww.

What happens in heaven? "People say to each other, 'I died,' and they do stuff," she said. "My Grandpa is there and so is my dog."
Who is God? "He watches us," she said.

An interesting point: Every time I asked Tara a question, she didn't hesitate to come up with an answer. Sometimes she was twirling her hair, as if in deep thought. I couldn't resist. I kept going. Who is Jesus? I asked her. "He died and then he waked up," she replied.

Whose birthday do we celebrate at Christmas? "Mine!" she said. (Her birthday is in January) Try again, I told her. "God, no Santa, has a birthday!"

A side note: Today Tara told me she can speak "English, Spanish, and a little Russian because that's where I was when I was a baby." Wow, she remembers everything I tell her, like a little sponge. Now if I can just figure out where she got the "peel their skin" explanation... (see above)

House of Kids

This week has been particularly fun and busy, as my 16-year-old niece has been here to help with Tara while I'm at work --- John returns tonight from a business trip. So that's three kids in my house! There is never a dull moment, especially when some of the neighbor kids come over too. I like having an active house. Yesterday I noticed so many pairs of shoes by the front door, it just made me smile.

So this is an entry about nothing, really. Except to make note of the piles of really cute teen girl clothes all over John's office (cleaned up by now!); the trip for ice cream at night; the shopping for clothes; the lotions and hair products in the bathroom; the frequent laughter of three kids; the stories I hear when I get home from work.

OK, also the screams from Tara who got caught messing with her brother's stuff in his room, the loud noise of Guitar Hero (who THOUGHT of that game??); the snacks gone in just days.

Hmm. Maybe I should have had three kids? Or maybe two is enough.

Home again

beach house 2007 003
Originally uploaded by me

Just hanging out

Swimming
Originally uploaded by me

The sun, the sand, the rainbow...

Tara at the beach 07
Originally uploaded by me

Reaching for the sky

at the park
Originally uploaded by me

Tara-isms in the sweet summertime

How old are you? someone asked Tara.
"Four going on 20," she replied.

I tucked Tara in for the night, after two stories and a back rub, I told her she has to go to sleep. "You're not the boss," she told me. "Daddy is the boss."
Is that so? I said. John is notorious for the quick bedtime routine. There is no caving in to just one more story or another cup of water. He's efficient: "Go to bed, DON'T get out."
So I'll go get Daddy then, if he's the boss, I told her. "NO! NO! You're the boss! You're in charge!" she said.

I was filling out a form for Tara's fall session of pre-school and it asks some questions about your kid so they can get to know her personality. One question was: What is your child afraid of? I thought long and hard, and Tara is such a brave girl, I just couldn't come up with anything. I mean, she'll take tissue and kill a bug without hesitation. She sleeps in a room with no night light and the door closed (her choice).
So I walked into the other room where she was drawing pictures with markers and I said, "Tara, what are you afraid of?" She looked up at me, blinked her eyes, and simply stated: "Monsters." Then went back to coloring. Well, who isn't afraid of monsters??

The beach?

Every day, Tara asks me if it's time to go to the beach house. The trip is about a week away and her pink Dora the Explorer suitcase on wheels is mostly packed and sitting near her bedroom door. "It's too early," I have told her. "You don't need to put clothes in there yet."

Ah, I might as well be speaking another language to her. She is strong willed. She is ready for the beach.

This is a girl who for the first two years of her life lived in an orphanage in Ukraine. Now, she is the go-girl. She always wants to go to the store, or the park, or to Grandma's house, or to her friend's house, especially to a party. Any party.

"We need milk," she tells me. "We need shampoo."

And now, this little Go-Girl wants to go to the beach. "Let's not wish our summer away," I tell her. "It'll be time to go soon enough. And then it will be fall."

This doesn't bother her, because there are lots of places to go in the fall: Apple orchard, pumpkin patch, trick-or-treating. Maybe she is making up for lost time when she was stuck in one place as a baby. Maybe she is a natural explorer. We know that she is very brave.

But now I must go and unpack her socks; I think she put 10 pairs in the suitcase. And two pairs of goggles. And three pairs of sandals, four bathing suits...

Sweet 16

I have been telling Tara's story for two years. But now, someone special in our lives has her own story to tell: My niece Caroline turns 16 this week. Sweet 16.

Let me tell you a little about her. She has always been a breath of fresh air, even as a little girl when she smiled and jumped up and down in her crib first thing in the morning. And when she sang songs and made up the words with such confidence. She would always act happy to see me, even when I lived far away and I wasn't sure if she would remember me.

Every holiday with Caroline has been like the Best Day Ever. She loves to celebrate and always makes you feel special. She sends me cards that tell me I'm a great aunt. When she was little and would spend the night at our house in the summer, I would love to see those small shoes by the front door, always something fancy or trendy. She would accidentally leave something in my house when she went home and I would love to look around and find it. We have a pink blanket right now that she left a few visits ago.

Now she is a beautiful young woman and we are all so proud of her. Austin and Tara love when she visits. She has so many friends that we can't even keep track. I love when she tells me stories about friends and boys and school and pom poms. We laugh at her teen sarcasm. We watch in amazement at her ability to juggle her social life.

Her mother, my sister, did a good job for the last 16 years and she should celebrate too. Raising children is one of the most challenging and rewarding jobs in the whole world.

So this week we celebrate Caroline. We have had so much fun watching her grow up. And we know that the years ahead will be even more amazing. Happy Birthday to our dear Caroline, Sweet 16.

The stop by

Years ago, people used to just stop by to visit for a while, a pleasant way to catch up with friends, family and neighbors. Nowadays, if the doorbell rings, we scramble, we panic, we wonder, we peek out the window. Whose car is that?

Then we race around and pick up the house or just try to keep them in one room that is not so bad. (Also known as the living room without the TV). It's really a shame that these visits have gone by the wayside because otherwise we don't really take enough time to chat with people that we really like. Our busy lives just don't have room for it.

So when John told me last week that someone stopped by when I was at work, the first thing going through my mind was: Oh no, were there dishes in the sink?

I have made a pact with my neighbor and a few of my friends that we will never notice that things may be out of place or toys may be scattered about if we ever do a drop by visit. But isn't it sort of like telling a jury to disregard a defendent's confession?

Have I told you about my Clutter Box? When I get a phone call that someone is stopping by (I love the warning, by the way) I will walk through the house and gather extraneous toys, magazines, shoes and baseball mitts into a big box that I put in the garage. Later, I tell the guilty parties to get their stuff out of the box and put it away if they want to keep it. Right now, there is still some stuff in the box in the garage but soon I will pour it into the trash. I'm sure they won't miss it. And I need to empty the box for that next phone call, warning me that someone is stopping by.

For those who just ring the bell, well, all bets are off.

Tara-isms Part 10

I ask Tara to help me carry her stuff out to the car this morning, she replies with a tad of sarcasm: "I only have two hands."

She still mixes up her timeline. She will tell you that she did something tomorrow, that her birthday is yesterday. And, sometimes she'll say: "I'm going to ride a bigger bike when I grow last year." (It's hard not to chuckle at the brainteasers)

The lights were out, she was tucked in her bed last night, and she hugged me tightly, telling me she loves me and then whispering: "I love my daddy, I love my brother, I love myself."

An early train to Toronto

Tara on the train
Originally uploaded by me

MORE ON TORONTO: Some street scenes

On the street one morning, we came upon a movie set in action. A woman who said she was an extra on the set told us the name of the film: "Critical Incident." She didn't know any more about it, not even the stars' names, and she hurried back to get with the crowd of men and women in suits, watching a fake accident scene. We will watch for this movie in the future. I heard it is less expensive to film in Canada than the United States, which is why our "Alaska" shows are often filmed in Vancouver instead.

In a Starbucks on Yongue Street, (and yes they are all the same worldwide aren't they?)we came upon a gruffy man with a day-old beard and a big belly sleeping on a couch near the front door. His eyes were shut tight but his mouth was wide open. We think the smiley people who were working behind the counter didn't see him, due to the angle, or maybe he always slept there. We didn't ask. I told Tara to drop something into his mouth, but she quickly caught on that I was teasing her. I think she is pretty street smart.

New families, new experiences

So much going on! My cyberspace friend Laura and her husband Ed returned from Ukraine just last week with three (yes three) children; two boys and a girl, all siblings age 7 and under (see her blog in the right column). She hasn't filed anything in a few days, probably still in shock. The kids are so cute.

Other families have been returning with children, as well, and I'm just thrilled to see this. But I am also hearing that some families are stuck in Ukraine, waiting for second or third appointments at the adoption center because they have not found children in the age group they prefer, or healthy children. The situation can change daily; I hope they don't give up and come home empty handed. Not after all that they have done. But it's brutal to sit there for days, even weeks, far from home in a place where you don't know the language, wondering if you will even get another appointment. I get a pit in my stomach just thinking about all of that waiting and worrying. Been there. Don't give up!

On a good note: I ran into Tara's main teacher Miss Stephanie at her new pre-school early this morning. I haven't seen her since the orientation; usually she comes in later. I was walking out and she walked quickly up to me with a big smile on her face and said, "Oh! I don't usually get to see you! Tara is doing great! She has adjusted really well and she's bonding with some of the girls. She's doing really great." After I got over the fact that she knew right away that I was Tara's mom, I was so happy to hear that. Whew.

So my note to any families that are waiting in Ukraine, or getting ready to leave for Ukraine, take a look at one of the pictures of little Tara Vika when we found her (February 05), and look at her now.

Flower girl

flowergirl2
Originally uploaded by me

A special day

Tara is a flower girl on Saturday for her Aunt Karen's wedding. She has been talking about it for a long time (Tara, not Karen. Well, actually, both of them).

Tara is so excited to be wearing a pretty blue dress. This is the first wedding that she has ever been a part of. Tonight, as I painted her nails a bright pink and braided her damp hair to make it wavy tomorrow, I asked her: Do you know what a wedding is?

"Yes, two people are married," she said. Good!
Who is getting married? "Caroline's mom...Aunt Karen."
What does that mean? "Mike is Karen's daddy?" Umm, no, he will be her husband, I told her. "OK."

"But Mom....What will be the party favors?" she asked.

This is a special day, we are happy to have Mike become an official part of our family. Congratulations to Karen and Mike!

(Check back soon for pictures)

Tara-isms during the holidays

We are doing a lot of things and nothing at all this week and really enjoying ourselves. We are spending a lot of time together as a family. So of course, the new Tara-isms are coming out strong.

--At the Tigers baseball game, Tara would not sit still and she would not stop poking her brother. I grabbed her and said sternly: Stop it, you need to behave.
"I AM being have!" she declared loudly. (It makes sense, when you think about it)

--The Tigers' slogan is: "Who's your Tiger?" Sunday was on-field photo day where you get to take pictures of the players. After a lot of pushing and shoving (I hope I didn't hurt anyone) I tried to hand Tara over to outfielder Curtis Granderson, who is "my" Tiger, so I could take her picture. She CLUNG to Austin's neck, and Granderson was trying to pull her and he said, "She's stuck on something." Then he gave up and walked away.
Later in the bathroom, I told Tara I was disappointed and I asked her why she didn't let him hold her for a picture??!! She responded: "He's not my Tiger."

--John told Tara to stop talking and eat her dinner. Tara said: "You're not the boss of me, DAD."

Time to go play croquet on the front lawn. Happy Fourth of July to everyone!

Morning at the park

tara2
Originally uploaded by me

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

The graduates
Originally uploaded by me

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

grad1
Originally uploaded by me

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 ballerina
Originally uploaded by me

Say what? Part VIII

We must watch what we say around young children--for a lot of reasons. One being that they repeat things...

--Tara to her 3-year-old friend Annabelle: "Don't give me that, I'm not a garbage can."

--Tara to me: "Watch your mouth."

--Tara: "Look Mommy, he's kind of chubby."

--Tara when something doesn't work right: "AARRRRGGH."

--When I ask her to go upstairs to get something: "No, I'm too tired."

--Tara to Austin: "Your room is a mess."

--Tara to her neighbor friend: "Don't be a tattle tale."

--When I want her to move on to the next thing: "I'm trying to do something here."

And lastly: "I just need two minutes."

Listen, do you want to know a secret

I feel her warm breath on my ear: "Mommy, I want to tell you a secret." This is the latest trend for my four-year-old daughter, secrets. Most of the time, she just says a bunch of gibberish. Sometimes, she actually tells me something, like we have a kitty.

I can see the secret sharing going on at Tara's pre-school. It cracks me up because how many secrets can these little ones actually have that mean anything?

I try to tell her that she should not share secrets about other people, that it is not very nice. But I don't think she has even thought of that yet, so I probably planted the idea in her head. I wonder if this is how we get started in the art of gossip.

Stealing moments

My mom told me long ago that if I ever find myself running to my car, then it's time to slow down. How many of us have done that? I saw a mom today at pre-school do this, and I was about to shout the words of wisdom to her, but she was trotting too fast.

You think you can trim a moment or two off your drive so you dash through a parking lot to your car. But this is not a good way to embark on a journey. Do you want to be near someone who runs to their car and squeals off?

And then there's the multi-tasking: I'm on the phone, I'm on the computer, I'm eating lunch. If I had yet another arm, I'm sure it would be put to use as well.

I think most of us, when asked about our perfect day, would include a lot of down time, relaxation and possibly just sleep. So why don't we slow down? I asked my friend Greta yesterday if she knows when our lives will slow down. She told me I already know the answer to that. She just adopted a little girl from Ukraine and her life is rather hectic now. I'm sure we are both thinking the same thing: When the kids move out!

But we don't want that yet, we really don't. We just want to be able to steal a few moments to rediscover ourselves. To read a book, see a movie, hang out with some girlfriends, go on a date with our husbands (who?)

At our house, we tend to do a lot of tag-team living. I go to the store, John stays home with the kids, I get home, he goes for a run, he gets back, I take Tara to swim class, and on and on. Some couples do everything together, you know, like shop at Meyer or Home Depot. We feel like that wastes valuable time. Why have two people shop? (I know you are thinking this is good family time, but I'd rather spend "family time" on a boat or at someplace fun.)Plus, have you tried to drag kids along on errands lately? Not fun!

I would continue this entry because I have lots more examples, but I have to run to my car now.

Music memories

When we were in Ukraine in the cold winter months of 2005, and John would be working on his laptop in our small efficiency apartment in Kyiv, sometimes I would just sit on the brown couch with my head back, eyes closed, and listen to music in my headphones. Over and over, I listened to a band with three young men from England called Keane. Their melancholy music and lyrics are wise beyond their years; they seemed to hit the mood that I was in.

I did this during our endless hours of down time--between trips to the notary, ventures out in the cold to find food, and daily treks to the orphanage to visit a 2-year-old little girl who seemed baffled by our interest in her.

Music makes memories, and you have it forever. So these are the songs that are in my heart and my head that remind me of our wonderful and often difficult journey to find Tara Vika.

On Saturday night, Keane was in our town for a concert. John and I went to this old, beautiful theatre to see them. He probably wondered why I pushed my way to get closer to the stage, but the music brought back the whole experience for me--two years later, but it felt like yesterday.

Some day I will give the Keane CDs to Tara and she will probably think I'm just a silly, sentimental Mom. But that's ok, I will always remember those early days.

Some lyrics from two of my favorite Keane songs:

"Somewhere Only We Know"

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete
Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

Listen to Somewhere Only We Know

"Everybody's Changing"

You say you wander your own land
But when I think about it
I don't see how you can
You're aching, you're breaking
And I can see the pain in your eyes
Says everybody's changing
And I don't know why

Watch video of Everybody's Changing (click on Watch it Now)

The bike story

So we put Tara's training wheels back on her bike. She is so much happier now. Today she told me that she was sorry that she didn't learn to ride without them. It was the sweetest apology, like she disappointed me. I reassured her that she can take all the time she needs to learn how to ride.

We had her parent/teacher conference yesterday. Her teacher told me that Tara is very attentive in class, raises her hand to give answers (not always right, but gets an A for effort!) and she is socially and physically mature enough for kindergarten, though she has another year of pre-school because she won't be five until January. She showed me some drawings and writings by Tara, including one in which the teacher asked her what she wants to be someday. Her answer: A doctor. Woo hoo! So I asked her today, what will you be when you grow up? Her answer: A teacher.

She can be anything she wants, as far as I'm concerned, and I have no doubt that her determination will bring her much success.

In celebration

Mother's Day is always a special day for us to celebrate our moms. We know that we can never actually give the perfect gift that says it all: Thanks Mom for putting up with us and supporting us and always being there for us through all these years. We hope flowers and other gifts make her smile, at least for the day.

As a mom, I have some observances of my kids that have made me smile these last few days:
--Austin making Easy Mac n Cheese for himself and Tara, using the little Dora bowl for Tara.
--Tara climbing a fence for the first time, with the intensity and determination that I see so often in her. Austin trying to help to make sure she doesn't fall, but she won't let him near her.
--Austin throwing Tara's shoe over the couch; Tara screaming like she's in a horror movie (oh wait, this is one of the things that annoyed me)
--Austin going outside to check on Tara when she is playing with the neighbor kids.
--The two of them watching Spider-Man on TV with me on Saturday morning; Tara cheering when the bad guys got whalloped.
--Tara drawing little pictures for me and sliding them under my bedroom door in the morning.

These things remind me of what's important in life.
Happy Mother's Day to all the moms and those who are waiting to be moms. Your time will come! (Don't give up.)

A random act

Tara and I stopped at this little party store yesterday on the way home from her school. It was small, tucked away, in a modest part of town. I realized that I didn't have any cash on me, just some change at the bottom of my purse and my credit cards and I knew she really wanted a snack and a drink for the drive home. I pulled into the bumpy lot next to an older-model Buick that was sitting low.

We went inside and and she was looking at and touching a lot of different candies and treats, asking if she could have this or that. I kept explaining to her, "Tara, mommy is cash poor today, you can only get one snack and one drink." "I only have $1.70 in change, pick something small."

So we get in line to pay and she is still picking up little things from the aisle right by the register. "Put it down, honey, I don't have enough money on me for all of that," I said.

The woman at the front of the line turned around with her newly purchased items and came right up close to me and placed 45 cents into my hands. "For your little girl," she whispered. At first, I thought it was maybe some money that I had dropped, then I realized her random act of kindness and I just smiled and said thank you so much.

I looked at Tara and me, wondering why this woman thought we needed her 45 cents, and then, I had to chuckle. Tara was wearing her spare clothes from school because she got her original fancy outfit dirty---her daisy pants were way too short, her sparkle shoes were all scuffed up and her pink Tigger the Tiger t-shirt was worn out. My work blazer was in bad shape, too; I had spilled coffee on it and tried to get the stain out with soap and paper towels so the dried up stain was big and bad. I also got caught in the rain earlier in the day so my hair was a mess. Imagine how we looked in this little store off the beaten path.

We paid for our stuff and went outside and there was the kind lady in her car with the window down, starting up the engine. It was the older-model Buick that sits low to the ground. I picked up Tara and told her to thank the nice lady for helping pay for her snack. Tara delivered her sweet smile. The lady returned the smile and said you're welcome.

Training wheels

Tara has been begging me for months to take the training wheels off her bike, so finally last night I took them off, padded her up, and ran with her down the driveway and on the street.

She started screaming/crying and wouldn't stop.

I said I'd put the wheels back on. She screamed louder. I tried to help her walk the bike back home, she stopped and hollered at me. Finally after a lot of tears, she said quietly: "I'm scared." I told her it was OK, she could learn later. We finally made it back to the garage and put her bike away. The prep work took a lot longer than her actual attempt at riding.

So Austin tried it with her a little later, put all her pads on her, same result: tears and screams. But she doesn't want her training wheels back on!

Babies in tummies

Tara's pre-school teacher pulled me aside Friday afternoon and said, "Can I ask you a question?"
Sure, I said, smiling.
"Is Tara adopted?"
Yes, she is, from Ukraine, I told her. I explained that I was going to share this at the parent-teacher conference in a few weeks. But I knew where she was going with this inquiry.

Just for the past week, Tara had been talking at school about having two mommies but now just one. Her teacher and friends didn't know what to make of it.

Her teacher is very pregnant--due in June--and they are talking about babies in tummies. Tara had recently asked me about it. She already knew that she did not come from my tummy, but she was trying to make sense of it.

I told her she grew in another lady's tummy but she couldn't take care of her and now I'm her mommy forever. "Why couldn't she take care of me?" she asked. (Boy, this is hard). During one drive to pre-school, she tried to explain things back to me and that story included her "first mommy" dying, which was kind of freaky but I said I don't know if that's true. I think she is filling in some of the gaps to help herself understand why someone wouldn't keep her.

So her teacher went on to say she is completely shocked by the news because "Tara looks like you! She acts like you! I would never have guessed it." I told her it's pretty crazy but she looks like her big brother, too. Her teacher said Tara is very well adjusted, that she keeps up with all of the other kids, and, as a matter of fact, she is ahead of some of the children who are going to kindergarten in the fall. Tara starts kindergarten in the fall of '08.

I wanted to see how she would be evaluated on the same playing field with her American peers. So leave it to Tara to spill her own news before the parent-teacher conference!

After this conversation on Friday, I kneeled down and gently asked Tara: How many mommies do you have? "One!" she shouted back. "You!" Then she hugged me.

She fits right in with our family. I told her teacher that I don't tell everyone anymore. Now, it's Tara's news to tell.

Crazy busy

It's been a crazy busy time of year for us, at work, school and home. So much to do. I can feel the stress affecting all of us at home, the time crunches, the rushing from here to there. I find a lot of comfort talking with my friends and relatives who swear that their houses are just as topsy-turvy these days; jackets on the floor, dirty clothes mixed with clean in the baskets (admit it), toys scattered about.

Tara is a collector. She has little lumps of items all over the house; shoes from a doll, a set of keys, a broken Barbie brush. Sometimes I toss things out and hope she won't notice. She always notices. She asks for things constantly. I keep thinking she will forget about these discarded items, but she asks for several days. "Have you seen my (broken) stroller?" I am too cowardly to admit that I threw it away, so I play dumb. And then as the days go on, and she keeps asking, it is too late for me to go back and admit it.

I was telling my friend about this today and it reminded me of a situation when I was little. My sister and I realized our cat Sandy was missing, and we were very upset. He was getting older, but he seemed fine to us. So every night, we called out the front door, "SAAAAANNNNDDDYYYY." We made posters. Day after day, week after week, we called for that cat.

Many years later, when I was in my 20s, my parents admitted that my Dad took Sandy to the old "farm." My Dad told me, "I thought you girls would forget about that cat after a few days, but for weeks you were looking for it!" Apparently, then, it was too late to tell us about his deed. Ah, history repeats itself. OK, so it's a stroller that Tara is missing, but I don't know what I'll do if she starts putting up posters for it.

A trip to the zoo

There is true joy in watching your kids as they stare at the exotic creatures at the zoo. We spent nearly three hours walking around in the bright sunshine on Sunday, going nose to nose with the seals through the glass tunnel, waving at the Lions to try to get them to wake up, searching in vain for the giraffes that were moved to another area while their exhibit was being repainted. It's always an adventure.

Sweet video

Mother's Day is soon, so this seems like a great time to post this video about adoption. I dedicate it to little Tara Vika and to my family who loved her before they even met her.
And to all of the fortunate children who found families, and the hopeful orphans who are still waiting for homes. And for the parents who took in children as their own. And those still hoping to do so.
Enjoy. And get some tissue.
Here it is: When Love Takes You In.

Spring at last

I try not to dwell on the weather too much, it's not like I can do anything about it. But this weekend, spring finally arrived in full force here, with tons of sun and temps in the mid-to-high 70s. You can't beat that. Tara practically lived on her bike. It's been a long time since we've seen her little knees in shorts, tooling around the yard. We all have spring fever; the kids don't want to go to bed, Tara wants to live on popsicles, no one feels like doing any chores (OK, that happens in all seasons).

Tara totally remembers summer, and she has been talking about the little pool her Aunt Karen has promised to set up for her again. And she wants to go to Grandma's park. She can be very persuasive for a four year old (people have a hard time saying no to her) So I'm hoping she doesn't learn about Disney World just yet.

Say what?

So I was talking to Austin and Tara shortly before dinner the other day about how mama birds feed their babies. I think I was trying to get them to appreciate whatever I was cooking for us. They were sitting on the couch together, watching TV, and I leaned into the room and said, you know, mama birds chew up their food and spit it in their babies' mouths. They both looked at me. I was going for the gross factor. Then Tara said, "That's regurgitation." Crystal clear, every syllable. We all started laughing. That's right, I said, how do you know? "My teacher."

So the next morning I asked her teacher about it. She confirmed that indeed, they have been studying mammals, birds and fish, and regurgitation was discussed in the lesson plan.

Well I guess you never know what's going to stick in their minds. Even a 5-syllable word for a little girl in pre-school whose only language two years ago was Russian.

Tara-isms Part X

Tara stood next to her little friend and then looked over at her friend's daddy and said: "My daddy is bigger than your daddy."

When I dropped off Tara at pre-school yesterday, her teacher asked me if Tara's daddy is tall. I said, excuse me? She said Tara told the class that her daddy is bigger than Mr. Mark, another teacher. I looked at Mr. Mark, a tall man, and said, I think her daddy is taller. Tara beamed.
(I'm not sure why this is so important to her right now. John better beware; she may be trying to pick fights for him.)

Tara threw her little stuffed dolphin and it hit her 11-year-old brother on the eye. Not badly hurt, he was rubbing his eye when I scolded her: "TARA, what do you say?" She froze and looked at him, then grinned and said, "Crybaby crybaby!"

A true celebration

Two years ago today, little Tara Vika was awakened from a nap at an orphanage in Kyiv, Ukraine and told that her mama was back, and she was going to take her to her new home. I was scared that she wouldn't remember, but she walked right to me. I couldn't believe that she was finally ours forever. My cousin Sally was with me for the "gotcha day." We quickly dressed Tara in new clothes and loaded her into a car.

She was only two years old. If you want to read about it, see this site. Today she is a happy, smart girl who loves to help people and ride on her brother's shoulders and sing in the car. She likes pretty clothes and pink nail polish. She loves to tease and make people laugh. And her hugs are hearty and genuine.

Happy Easter to all, and happy Gotcha Day to our precious little girl.

Easter Egg Hunt--Hey how many did you get?

Tara and her friend Annabelle walk along the muddy path in the park after scrambling for Easter eggs in the crowd of 3-6 year olds.

Ok for now

I will keep this blog going for now. It seems to be a place for friends and family and new acquaintances to check in, touch base. I will continue to evaluate it for Tara's sake.

Thanks for your comments and phone calls!

Our story

Thank you for all of your comments and encouragement about this blog. I will take it all into consideration!

It's been a while

On April 8, Easter Sunday, we will also celebrate the two-year anniversary of Tara's rescue from her Ukraine orphanage. Adoptive families call it the Gotcha Day. We're so thankful that we have Tara in our lives. Two years is a long time, and I will contemplate whether to keep this blog going after that. I'm not sure if interest remains on watching Tara grow up. At some point, I will stop. Maybe soon?

Lofty ambitions

We should never stop our daughters from trying to reach for the sky. Opportunities are endless in these United States. Unless of course they are climbing a tree. And they are only 4 years old.

Tara is a climber, a runner, a dancer, a gymnast. On a beautiful spring day Sunday, she decided to climb a tree in our back yard. I was sitting nearby in a chair, relaxing. Up and up she went, and I sprinted over to her when I realized she was actually going pretty high; I could no longer reach her purple Weebok shoes even when I stood on my tippy toes.

Um, Tara, come on down, honey. You are going too high, I said.
"Noooo," she replied, grinning, her feet moving a little uncertain now. No surprise. She is always being told that she can do anything in this world. She is told this by me.

I was squinting in the sun, looking upward at my pre-schooler, trying to convince her that it was time to make her descent. But she was only interested in climbing higher. I thought: Do I dash in the house and bellow up the stairs for John to come out and help? He is tall. Everyone says so. But what if she falls in the meantime and I'm not even there?

So I did what any mother would do: I bribed her. C'mon down and you can have a popsicle, I said sweetly. "OK," she said. But her positioning was messed up, she had one foot on top of the other, she couldn't figure out how to turn around and untangle herself. She started looking a little worried, I reached up farther than I thought I could under her bottom and just as I did this she slipped, right into my hands. I lowered her down through the branches. She managed to escape with a little scratch on her thigh.

"Where's my popsicle?" she said. She did not thank me. She didn't have to. It's what we do.

Crazy busy

Birthday parties, dentist appointments, swimming classes, baseball practice. Our house is a whirlwind of spring activities. And I notice that beautiful bright sunshine really shows off the winter dust. So I'm trying to do some deep cleaning but I'd much rather find excuses to be outside. Hey, is that the Christmas tree where a pile of snow used to be? I better go outside and drag it to the curb. The dust can wait...

Sparkle shoes and Mondays

Tara had to have these pink sparkle shoes. Everything is sparkly in a little girl's world, her nail polish, her lipstick, her jeans. I finally bought them for her on Saturday and she has hardly taken them off ever since. Her friend has these same shoes so Tara was very excited for Monday to come so she could wear them to pre-school and show her friend. On Sunday, she was mad at me that I couldn't turn the day into Monday. Meanwhile, the rest of us in the house were dreading Monday, like most people. The weekend flies by way too fast. On Sunday night, I still had laundry to do, some vacuuming, Austin had a school project that he had to rush to finish, John was extra busy with work because of some system crashes.

This morning, we were all grumpy. It is cold, and dark, and ohmygosh snowing again. But Tara, bless her little heart, woke up and put on those little pink sparkle shoes. That's all that matters. They are like magic to her. I think everyone needs a pair.

Tara Dactyl

Tara still tends to act up at dinnertime, sometimes John can't take it and eats in the other room. Usually there's just a lot of fussing going on and sometimes Tara ends up in timeout. She will be too silly and try to get Austin's attention, sticking her tongue out or making faces or throwing something or she'll keep kicking John and he'll keep saying stop it, and she'll laugh, but it drives him crazy and in the meantime no food is going into her mouth. So I'm leaning across the table to try to get her to eat something and I would sit closer to her but John and Austin are stubborn and won't switch seats with me.

Pterodactyl

Tuesdays with Grandma

In the morning, Tara wakes up quickly, closes her door for "privatsy" and gets dressed from head to toe all by herself. She opens the door and makes her grand entrance into the day: pink hat, beaded purse and all.

Tara has been spending Tuesdays with Grandma because her new pre-school has room for her every day but Tuesdays. She gets so excited about going to Grandma's house. I know it's a long day for both of them, but they manage. Tara wheels in her suitcase filled with toys; Grandma has snacks at the ready. I can see their relationship is growing.

Today they played with bubbles outside, colored with crayons and stickers, bounced on stuffed animals (well Tara did), played with dolls and rested on the couch. I wish I could spend Tuesdays with Grandma!

Tara meets Sasha

Sasha, Tara watching the dogs outside
Originally uploaded by me.

She is clearly attached to her new family, hanging on Greta like a little monkey. I couldn't help but think about what her life was like in an orphanage, and how she is so loved and cherished now.

I smiled all the way home.

Tara-isms Part IX

Tara is picking all kinds of new things to say from her new school and her family and friends.

--Yesterday we were telling Austin about how Tara fell down on the sidewalk when we were leaving her pre-school and she hurt her hand. She cried real hard. I had anti-bacterial lotion and a band-aid in my purse and patched her up. "Mommy saved the day!" Tara told her brother.

--This morning Austin reached for something in the pantry and gave it to Tara. "Thank you Austin, that was very kind," she said.

--I asked Tara today if she still has her nail polish on. She said, yes, though it was coming off on one finger "but that's OK, Mommy, nobody cares."

--We were talking about ages and Tara said: "I'm four and a half and then I'm going to be 13." Indeed...

Crazy lazy Sundays

Tara hiding
Originally uploaded by me.

TGI Friday

When I picked Tara up from her new pre-school, Stony Creek, yesterday, she was not ready to leave. She was still busy playing and exploring. Her teacher told me Tara had a good day, and was smiling most of the time. Tara would not tell me many details of her day when I got there. She said, "I will tell you when we get home." So I had to wait. And when we got home, I asked her about her day, she said, "I will tell you at dinner time."

Such a build up! Even then, she was waiting for everyone to sit down to eat before she would enlighten us with her day's events, which included sharing her napkin with her friend Natalia at lunchtime, that they didn't go outside because it was "raining and snowing and thundering," and her new teacher was "nice." "Is that it??" John asked.
She got mad, "Don't say that Daddy!"
These details of a little girl's life are very important.

Meanwhile, Greta and her new daughter Sasha, are on a plane ride of a lifetime: They are returning home today from Ukraine. Welcome home, Greta, and welcome to our newest U.S. citizen!

New school

We walked along the path to the door of Tara's new pre-school this morning, my arms filled with extra clothes and a blanket for rest time, Tara filled with excitement. Her new teacher greated us with a smile and showed us Tara's new cubby and where she will keep her blanket and blue dolphin.

Tara peeked around the corner and saw two of her friends from her former pre-school already there, nestled on the big colorful rug, waiting for their lesson on how much things weigh. I bent over to touch her friend Natalia's hair and give her a reassuring smile. She was sitting very still.

Tara was anxious to join the new class, her new and old friends, so I whispered that it was OK to go and sit down. She walked right over to Natalia and sat beside her, crossing her legs and smiling.

We were sad to leave the former pre-school yesterday, her last day, but I think Tara will adjust fine in her new surroundings.

Adjustment is harder for parents, and I wanted to make sure she was OK when I left. I stood there with my coat on, behind her teacher, trying to get Tara's attenion. She saw me and smiled and gave me a tiny wave. The class was counting little pebbles for their lesson on how much things weigh. These weigh the same amount as this block! her teacher said.

As I finally turned to walk out, I could hear Tara's voice among her friends, counting the pebbles out loud.

A new day

I have been closely following my friend's adoption in Ukraine. She is finally picking up her new 7-year-old daughter tomorrow (Tuesday) and I'm so thrilled for her. Greta has been at this international adoption process for nearly two years, ever since she met Tara and asked me for some information.

She can blame me for the craziness that ensued: the paperwork, the extra costs, the delays, more paperwork, the extra trips to Europe, the long drives to visit the little girl, the bad weather. She can blame it all on me. And I wouldn't care one bit. Because I am thrilled to see one more little girl from a Ukraine orphanage find a wonderful home here in America.

OK, so who's next?

Back in the cold

The bright sunlight woke us up this morning, I peeked out the window and saw the pool and hot tub, steam rising. The water in the canal was still. But this wasn't going to be a relaxing morning, not today. Our bags were mostly packed though we still rushed around to get everything ready for our departure. Florida is a lovely place this time of year for us snowbirds. John's brother and sister-in-law were gracious hosts for a week, but our time was up.

Tara was the last one to wake up after 11 hours of sleep. I suppose the pool, beach, park and dinner at a seafood restaurant yesterday were finally enough to do her in for a long night's sleep. She was like the Energizer Bunny for most of the trip, but even bunnies get tired sometimes.

We are home now, our house is chilly, our cat is super happy, the laundry cycles have already begun. In some ways, it's always good to be home. But Tara is keeping her capris on and I'm still wearing my flip-flops. Some things we just want to hang on to a little bit longer.

Cruising on vacation

Sun, fun, ah

The sun has been shining brightly upon us in Florida and we couldn't be more pleased. It's as though the cold winter blahs have dissipated overnight. Tara and Austin had no problem adjusting from snow to sand. The heated pool is great for the slightly chilly nights.

In this picture, Tara is is getting ready to go out to dinner after a day of swimming in the pool and running around on the beach. Now, she is sound asleep, her cheeks pink from the sun. Tomorrow we go on a boat ride. Sleep tight, little Tara.

to the beach?

Tara's pink Dora suitcase has been packed for days, with two bathing suits, shorts, tops, Barbie pajamas and striped flip-flops. What else do you need in life? We are spending a few days this week in sunny Florida at John's brother's house. We are hoping it will be very warm because we are all SO ready to take a break from winter. His pool is heated, so even if it's not scorching hot, we'll likely take a few dips.

We are all trying to get over colds, too, so this trip comes at a good time. This is a first for Tara, she has never been to Florida. We will try to bring back some sunshine and warm weather when we return.

Balentimes

Tara was so excited about Valentines Day that she was already up and tugging on her pink-heart tights when I opened her door to wake her up this morning. We have lots of snow and schools are closed, but that would not stop a four-year-old from distributing her Valentines cards to her friends at pre-school---which is always open!

She had her red velvet heart dress and pink sweater on in no time at all. And she clutched her leopard-print purse filled with cards that have chocolate kisses taped to them, each signed days ago by her little hand.

"Balentimes Day is today!" she said.
OK, Tara, try that one again. VVVValen TINESS day, I said. Say Vika, Very, Victor, Valentines.
"Vika, Very Victor Balentimes," she said.
I try again. Same thing. "Balentimes."

I tell her a Valentine is someone she loves and I ask her who is her Valentine. She says her friend "Talia." Who else? "My whole family and all my friends," she says. "I have a lot of Balentimes!" Indeed.

Tara's world

Tara's fever is gone and she is feeling better except for a cold that has taken its place. She had her first ever filling done at the dentist's office today and she was a real trooper, opening and closing on command. Of course, I'm sure the gas they gave her helped. And now, as if a trip to the dentist isn't enough, her little world may be shaken because her pre-school might be closing.

They have been looking for a new site for nearly a year because the church they are in is remodeling and no longer wants to rent to a childcare center. It's a big mistake by the church, as far we are concerned, because they will lose all the laughter, smiles and, OK, diaper smell. We really like the teachers and the program at Kidzone, but that doesn't seem to matter to the church, which will be SO boring and quiet without the center. Their loss for sure. But our loss is even bigger. We are now in the position of looking for a new school for Tara as our Plan B, which is becoming more and more like Plan A as the deadline of March 10 to get out of the church approaches. We hate to rock her little world. She loves this school. She spoke almost no English when she started there and they have taught her so much. They notice when she is wearing something new; they encourage her to be creative; they taught her how to write her name; they hug her. They are like family.

We are hoping to put Tara in a place where possibly two of her dear friends will be going. We are touring some sites this week, but always with a sense of sadness about what is appearing to be the inevitable. We know that in time, no matter what happens, she will adjust. Kids always do. But stability is the key for a little girl from Ukraine. We will do all that we can to make sure any changes in her world are as smooth as possible. But that doesn't mean it's going to be easy.

Down for the count

At 5 a.m., we heard whimpering outside our bedroom door. I jumped up and stumbled out and saw, in the glare of the hallway nightlight, little Tara crumpled on the floor, her cheeks damp from tears, her hair in her face. What's wrong? I asked, hugging her. Then I knew. She felt very warm. A fever.

Something was going around her pre-school last week, several kids missed a few days. I was only a little worried, because Tara seems to side-step colds all the time. We can all be sick in the house, and she's barely sniffling at all. But I should never have done what I did last week: I bragged to her teacher that Tara rarely gets a fever. I even knocked on wood. Some superstition that turned out to be.

So they make cold medications that work so well that they make children forget they are sick. When I was a kid, I only felt like lying in bed or on the couch all day. Tara's fever subsided quickly with Motrin, so now she is running around like any other day. But I know when it wears off, she will be down for the count, again. What's a mother to do, let her run around, or make her stay down?

It is so cold out, we are all basically stuck inside.

Tara thought it was really funny when she sneezed on her dad this morning. John is not happy. But he figures adults don't usually catch a fever from a kid, maybe a cold, though. Sure. OK, where's the Airborne??

Two years, two strangers

On Feb. 7, 2005, we met our little girl in an orphanage in Kyiv, Ukraine. Two years ago today, this tiny two-year-old walked into a small office and saw these two strangers staring at her. I'm not sure whose eyes were wider, hers or ours. She quickly broke into tears and covered her eyes with two loose-fisted hands, a gesture she still does sometimes when she is upset and it always breaks my heart. I wanted to pick her up and hold her, but I knew it would scare her even more. I reached out and touched her arm, she pulled away.

The orphanage doctor gave me a little stuffed animal and I crept closer on my knees and raised it near this little girl's face, she peeked out and looked at it, then at me, like I was crazy. Her clothes were too big on her; her shoes looked too small.

Several days passed with many visits, and little Tara Vika came to know us as family. You can revisit our first meeting; we created a post the next day: Little Girl.

What a great day that was, and how lucky we are today.

Cold day

Schools are closed today across our state because the temperatures hit below zero, particularly with the wind chill. Austin was So Excited to be able to extend his weekend. Tara's pre-school is open, and we gave her the choice to stay home if she wanted to. She said she would prefer to go to school. Imagine that!

So I dropped her off at school before heading to work. Mondays are usually a little harder for all of the children (and the parents). But Tara strutted into her classroom with a smile and got busy. I was talking to her teacher for a few minutes and had to look for Tara before I left. She was already hanging out with her friends. I guess I was the one that was most sad that we had to part ways. We have a lot of fun together on the weekends. Good-bye Tara! I shouted across the room. "Bye Mommy!" she said, as she gave me a reassuring grin and blew me a kiss. Funny how sometimes the children are the ones comforting us.

Winter in Ukraine

It was two years ago today, John and I arrived in Kyiv, Ukraine for our appointment at the adoption center the next day. We were tired, excited, scared and ...really cold! We had tried to time everything so that we would not have to go to there in the winter. But there is so much in this process that we do not control. We got our referral for a 2-year-old girl and we met her four days later. That encounter changed our lives. So much joy!

Today, my friend Greta and her husband are in Kyiv, getting some final paperwork signed to allow them to go to court and adopt a sweet little girl in a region a few hours away. They had tried to time their process to avoid going there in the winter. It has been a bumpy road for them; this seems to be the norm in international adoptions. They came home from Ukraine for a few weeks before Christmas, and there were more delays. But they knew in their hearts that they had found their daughter and no paperwork, expensive flights or, brrr, winter in Ukraine would stop them.

We are watching, and hoping, and waiting for good news. Like all of us, Tara Vika is anxious to meet her new little friend from her homeland. Godspeed, Greta!

Tara Turns 4

Tara (right) and Natalia
Originally uploaded by me.

Tara's Special Day

She has grown out of her naps, but she likes to be carried sometimes. She can tie her shoes, zip her coat and recite the ABCs, though she clings to me when she is scared. She sings when she plays, she laughs at herself, she skips to the car, she hugs so tight.

Little Tara Vika is four years old today. She is a big girl now. She tells us she is not a baby anymore, but she will always be our baby.

Happy Birthday, precious Tara!

Many roles

I am the drill sergeant. I am the timekeeper. I am the game show host. Do you relate?

Every morning, I must flip on lights and shake warm sleepy children out of bed to begin their days. This is difficult on cold, dark wintery mornings. They seem to blame me for their fate: time for school. Up and out!

I am constantly reciting the time. It's 7:15. It's 7:22. C'mon! Move it. If you would have gone to bed at 9 instead of 10, you wouldn't be so tired. When you get home at 3:30 you should do all of your homework so that you can watch TV at 8. Don't forget baseball practice at 2 on Saturday. (yes, indoor). Good thing I have a watch. And a clock in most rooms. I'm fairly certain that if I didn't recite the time, that my family would just sit on the floor and stare at the wall.

I am the the game show host: You have 3 minutes to finish that juice! Can you do it? When I count to three, can you be in the car? Go! Which prize do you want, a bagel or a granola bar? Pick one. How are you doing today? Tell us about yourself.

That is my life with two kids and a husband and a cat. I told Austin last night when there was friendly resistance about going to bed (him and Tara) that maybe I should just quit trying to enforce all the rules and let them do whatever they want, and I could go in my room and read a book. He looked worried, and said, no, you can't do that. I said, why? He said, "Tara would cry."

In a box

I'm spending my little bit of spare time with my head stuck in a closet. Every closet. One by one. First the coat and boot closet in the main hallway, which had become the closet with the tennis racquets, 15 single unmatched mittens and gloves, three pairs of shoes that fit no one, picture frames, Russian language CDs, four chewed up cat toys and, well, I don't think I need to go on. Now, it is the picture of organization. It is my pride and joy. Sometimes I just stand back and stare into it. I think I need to get out more often.

Next, was the linen closet upstairs. Old towels, mismatched sheets, extension cords and a Walkman that doesn't work any more. Then my closet, and I won't even tell you how many old purses were jammed in the back corner. I seem to have some challenging organizational issues. And now that there are two kids in our lives, we are really trying to get our house, our closets, in order.

Every week I de-clutter the house, walking from room to room and looking for toys and stuff that I can pitch. Mainly, what the kids won't notice is gone. The rest I sort. I have boxes for Tara's dolls, bags for beads--including the stray ones that were rolling under the couch, much to the cat's excitement. I have big plastic containers for clothes that don't fit her yet, and boxes of dress-up clothes for a princess, ballerina and a Snow White.

But somehow, everything keeps finding its way outside of my perfect boxes and neat closets And this can make you crazy. Is there such a thing as trying to be too organized? Is it less painful if you just don't even bother? Do you ever just say, OK, forget it. When the kids are 18, we'll get our house back?

Hmmmm. Maybe I am the only one with this problem.

Say what?

Tara's vocabulary continues to improve every day. We already miss the funny way she used to say things like "Sa-sa" (Austin) and "cools" (school).

She is getting more sophisticated in her conversations. We had a fierce ice storm last week and a lot of people lost power. So yesterday in the car she said to me, "We have power at our house. Some people don't have power." Oh! I thought, how observant she is. I said, Do you know what power is? She said, "Yes..." and I said OK, what is power?

She smiled, paused, and said: "You tell me." Well, if her mom didn't ask so many questions...

Austin isn't feeling well today and the first thing Tara said to him when she woke up: "Are you feeling better? I can give a hug for you."

On another note: A lot of families are sort of stuck in limbo with their adoptions in Ukraine. Hopefully it's just the post-holiday slow-downs and things are back up to speed very soon. Families are waiting for court dates and signatures and document updates and all kinds of stuff that get in the way of any kind of smooth process.

My note to families: Remember, the children are still there, every day, waiting for you. They don't know about paperwork and processes, delayed court hearings and expensive flights. They're there, waiting.

Dolphins, Part II

Tonight I tucked Tara into her bed and plopped down at the bottom, horizontal with my feet still touching the ground, just like I have done countless nights. We had just finished talking about everything we did today; her swim classes where she went all the way under water; the Dora card-match memory game where she beat me for real; the shopping trip to Old Navy where she picked out two pairs of adorable little jeans (why can't we all look that good in jeans.)

In between the handful of errands, we laid around on the couch near the fire and watched Ellen on TiVo and the Wonder Pets. We both try to act just as excited about the other's show; we are good sports. John worked a bit, Austin had indoor baseball practice and a birthday party to go to. It was a nice lazy day for the girls of the house.

So what better way to end such a day than plopping at the bottom of her bed to listen to her rustle around until she falls asleep, and I hear that deep breath. She offered me one of her dolphins again, she never gives up hope that I will stay just a little longer, and sometimes I do, though I realize it mostly keeps her awake to have me there for too long. She will want to talk and play.

This time, when she sweetly whispers: "Mommy, do you want one of my dolphins?" I smile and say, "Sure, honey." And she hands me the smaller of the two, then shows me the proper way to snuggle them, just under the chin.

Second shift and dolphins

Tara-isms Part X

Driving to pre-school this morning, Tara points to airplanes in a clear sky, flying really high. I tell her they are not stopping nearby, they must be going far away. She thinks for a minute and says, "There are a lot of peoples on that plane and they are going home." Perhaps in her mind, a long plane ride faraway means going home.

Despite saying "peoples," Tara's vocabulary has really expanded in the past few months. The other day, she wanted to go play outside and I told her OK but it was kind of cold out. She said, "that's ok." So we walked to the front door and she stopped and said, "ACTUALLY, I don't want to, it's too cold outside." I had to laugh. Actually?

If you ask Tara a question, she will answer, even if she doesn't know you very well. She won't get close to strangers, but she will lean against me or look to me for assurance, and then answer to the best of her ability. Someone at a party on Monday asked her if she likes school. She glanced at me, then replied, "Yes, I do. I have a lot of friends."

Little Tara Vika turns 4 in three weeks and she just can't wait. She starts swimming lessons again this Saturday and she can't wait. She is also getting her teeth cleaned on Saturday and she can't wait. At the party on Monday, she kissed my arm, hugged her daddy's leg and jumped on her brother to kiss him on the cheek. This former orphan from Ukraine embraces life. No doubt about that.

Happy New Year

My New Year's resolution: Play more, stress less.
Tara's resolution: play all the time.
John's: Make a million, retire happy.
Austin's: He won't say. He is a pre-teen.

Happy New Year!

A week at home

We have all been home this week, together, the four of us. All week. It's been cold outside, the TV is on too much, it seems like I'm constantly preparing a meal or cleaning up after a meal, or a snack. I started three different projects (closet, basement, drawers) and haven't finished any of them. I haven't taken back the clothes that don't fit. I have promised a trip to the movies---maybe today?

I have accepted the fact that our house won't be picked up until after we all go back to school and work next week. Because now, it's impossible to keep up! Tara loves to gather toys in little piles throughout the house. Austin likes to drop his coat where ever he is standing.

We have all fallen into a lovely routine of, well, no routine. And wow, does it feel good!

A day of celebration

Holidays2006 048
Originally uploaded by me.

It's beginning to look...

a lot like Christmas. The excitement is in the air, Tara and Austin are both wound up more than usual. Even our cat seems to have more energy and curiosity than usual. Our refrigerator is full, gifts are hidden away, the cards are mailed. There is still much to be done, and tomorrow is Christmas Eve. But we are looking forward to spending time with our family and friends. And we are (Ok, I am)looking forward to being done shopping...!

Merry Christmas to all, from our home to yours!

The spirit of Christmas

Tara is the first to notice every day that the Christmas lights outside and on our tree need to be plugged in. She is the first to notice if a bow falls down from the staircase, or a wreath isn't quite right. She sticks her button nose right into the unlit candles to get the most out of a whiff of peppermint or cinnamin oil in the wax.

Every day, she points to the decorated house around the corner that is her favorite this year; it has lighted deer on the front lawn. How cool is that. She sings parts of Christmas songs when she is playing, and sometimes meshes them together, like: "Jingle bells, jingle bells, fa-la-la-la-la-lalalala." They sound better like that.

The pure and raw excitement of Christmas, brought to you by a little girl who has come a long way from a Ukrainian orphanage in 2005 to a new home today where she brightens our holidays and all of our days.

An interview with Tara, Part IX

Tara turns four next month. Here are her thoughts on the future:

ME: Do you want to be a doctor when you grow up?
TARA: "No! I don't want to be that."

How about a nurse?
"No!"

A teacher? A soccer player? A mom?
"No! I don't want those."

What do you want to be when you grow up?
"A person."

Just a person?
"A big person."

Well, what do you want to do?
"Drive my car. My blue car. And buy things at the store."

Holiday happiness

We got our Christmas tree over the weekend, all four of us went to pick one out. John said it was his turn to find the ultimate tree...We got one that was totally wrapped up and didn't know how it would open up, but John was confident that it was the best tree in the lot. Turns out, it is pretty nice, and it's more than 7 feet tall.

This is Tara's second Xmas holiday with us and she is totally in the groove and committed to tradition. She put all the ornaments on, mostly in one spot near the bottom, but who cares? She was singing Fa-la-la-la-la as she decorated the tree. How can you not get in the Christmas spirit with her around?

She's so happy having all the bright colorful lights and garland and wreaths around the house and outside. She skips around saying, "It's SO beautiful!" Last year, Tara wanted a rocking horse. Santa brought one for her and she was thriled. This year, she doesn't seem to have one main gift request, but we think she'll be thrilled with whatever Santa brings.

De ja vu

My friend Greta and her husband are boarding a plane today for Kiev, Ukraine, to adopt a little girl they never met who has no idea that they are on their way to change her life, and theirs, forever.

Natasha, the wonderful facilitator who helped us find Tara just last year, will greet them at the airport tomorrow, just as she greeted us. They will likely be exhausted, excited, nervous, worried and hungry--all at the same time.

I have been giving Greta some last-minute encouragement and advice (hey she asked for it), like try not to act too American, don't worry if you forgot something because you can buy it there, bundle up, don't drink the water...and then I said: You have all that you need to know; the rest you will learn as you go.

Everyone has a different experience. It will be thrilling to read about their journey (see blog at right). Feel free to leave Greta a note on her blog, let her know you're following along.

Tara-isms Part VIII

--If you ask Tara what she wants for Christmas, she will tell you a little blue car, and socks for her mommy, and all kinds of stuff for her daddy and brother. She seems more concerned about what we will get. In this way, she is not so Americanized!

--Her imagination is running wild. She says, "I have to tell you something. A lion can scratch you. A lion scratched my friend." Yesterday it was a dinosaur. I asked her pre-school teacher about her tall tales and she assures me this is normal behavior for her and her friends, as they learn to fantasize. Hey, sometimes it's better than reality! Except for the lion scratching part.

--Her cousin Caroline is "Caloline" and it always sounds like she's singing it.

--If I ask John to do something and he says no, Tara scolds him: "Daddy, don't talk to my Mommy like that." We try to keep a straight face.

--Yesterday at the dinner table, she announced "I look so pretty today." And John said, what about me? She said, "Noooo, you're not pretty, you're a BOY."

In the dark

So I boiled a few eggs this morning, but I assigned Austin to keep an eye on them this time. He did good.

I am writing this in the dark, at night, because I'm waiting for my two children to Fall Asleep. It feels like we have been running since 7 a.m. today. Maybe that's because we have...!

Austin's band concert was tonight, so I hurried out of work and picked up Tara, then rushed home. Halfway home, Austin called to tell me his pants for band were too small. So Tara and I stopped at Target, darted in like crazy people at a one-hour sale, found some pants, and raced home to pick up Austin.

As we were dropping him off at the school, I remembered that I was supposed to bring 3 dozen cookies for the afterglow party. Off I went, with Tara, to the store, then rushed back in time to see the concert. Home at 8:45 p.m. OK, what's for dinner?

Did I say something about happy chaos before? Hmmmmm...

A day in the (crazy) life

I got ready for work this morning, lunches packed, snowpants packed, coffee ready for the drive, breakfast for the road. I went back upstairs to wake up little Tara and realized she didn't have a bath last night or the night before because we were all out late Saturday and I was at a church function last night.

So I suggested she take a quick shower in my bathroom and she happily stripped down to nothing and trotted through our bedroom, where John was still asleep, into my bathroom. She especially liked getting her hair blow-dried. This impromptu shower threw me off my morning routine a bit, though, so we were rushing out the door, grabbing this and that on the way.

So I get to work and send a note to dear John, who is working from home. He responds that he's been "putting out fires" all morning. I say, oh, you have been managing some business crises?

He says no, "Someone" left two eggs boiling in a pot on the stove. They exploded all over the kitchen.

Oops, that explains why I couldn't find Tara's breakfast in the car.

(When things like this happen, my Mom usually tells me: Time to slow down!)

Butterfly Girl

Butterfly Girl
Originally uploaded by me.

Tara's World

In Tara's World:

--Flip flop shoes are flop-flops.
--A back pack is a pack-pack.
--Any gathering is a party. Any party is a birthday party.
--Beds are made for jumping.
--Brothers are made for teasing and bugging.
--If she already "read" a book, she says, "I read that 2 weeks ago."
--Getting in a car and going anywhere is good.
--Talking with your mouth full is a no-no.
--Small talk is perfectly natural. Driving home from school, the car is quiet. She says from the back seat: "We went to the library today."
--She loves to be a friend. If you are thirsty, she is thirsty too. She will bring you a drink.
--If you are hurt, she examines your wound and brings you a band aid.
--If you are tired, she brings you a stuffed animal to "help you feel better."
--She can scream like she's in a horror movie. Usually it's directed at the cat or her brother.
--She talks about her "family" all the time. At school, at home. She draws pictures of us. If she sees four animals in a book, she says they are us.
--We are all thankful for Tara. And for our family and friends.

Happy Thanksgiving...!

Holidays and parties

Tara is thrilled that Thanksgiving is this week. She has helped me pick out the centerpiece for the dining room table and the linen napkins. She has carefully examined the plates to make sure they will match the table cloth. She keeps saying, "We're making a party!" I told her that our family will be coming to our house on Thursday and we will eat turkey and sweet potatoes and pie. She squeals.

She is very excited. There's something about having a child around for the holidays that makes the old traditions seem new again.

Brave

We walked into the exam room yesterday, it was finally our turn. The three of us filed in silently like we were going for treatment of small pox or something. We were at the doctor's office for flu shots.

Well, Tara was there for a flu shot. Austin and I were getting the pain-free alternative: FluMist. It's a little squirt up the nose, you're done. But Tara is too young for the mist. "Who should go first?" the doctor said in a hushed voice. I nodded toward Tara, whose eyes were about as wide as she could make them.

He folded down her shirt to expose her little shoulder and pinched her skin to prepare for the needle. She held my hand and stared straight into my eyes. She didn't say a word. I saw the needle go in and quickly darted my eyes back to hers. She didn't even flinch. When the doctor was done, I said, "See, you're all done!"

She looked at her arm, and then back at me, and finally she spoke. "I'm brave."

Yes, dear, you certainly are, I told her.

Greta's date

For several months, my friend has been waiting and hoping for an appointment at the state department of adoptions in Ukraine. I try not to ask her about it whenever we talk. It's unnerving enough to wonder if you're ever going to get an appointment and go pick out your child. Getting an appointment means everything.

It means that Ukraine is expecting you to show up on this date and you will get about one hour to look at pages of children in the age range that you are requesting; each page will have little outdated photos and some health information. You will be making a decision to visit a child that you might be taking home with you forever.

This appointment is the culmination of months, sometimes years, of detailed paperwork, doctor's appointments, fingerprints, visits to the immigration office, notary publics, and the department of the state seal. Fed Ex and DHL delivery trucks become your best friends. You become an expert on international adoption, but you don't want to talk about it all the time because it just makes you so darn anxious.

OK. So I'm driving to work this morning and my cell phone rings. It's Greta. We've talked a lot lately. She is hoping for an appointment before the end of the year. This time, she gets right to the point.

"I have an appointment! Dec. 15!" she says. I scream with joy. She screams back. We are both elated. I think she is jumping up and down, since she is in her kitchen, but I'm in my car.

She called the adoption center this morning and they told her the good news. Greta is hoping to find a little girl, maybe age 5 or 6. I will post her blog on this site when the date gets closer. We can follow her journey.

For now, I am reminding her to take really warm clothes. And a lot of things to read. And movies. And a laptop. And learn how to say "no sausage" in Russian. (see blog dated Feb. 2005). There is a lot of down time, and travel time, and the days will be cold.

She gets to spend time with Natasha, our fabulous facilitator in Ukraine. She gets to see the really old, breath-taking churches. She gets to visit beautiful, sweet children in an orphange. And she gets to bring her daughter home with her.

An interview with Tara, Part VI

What do you like about school?
"I like toys, I like snacks, and all my friends."

What's your favorite song?
"Twinkle Little Star."
Why? "Because of you, Mama."

What do you like to do with your brother?
"Play stuff, jump on the bed. Austin laughs at me."

What do you like to do with your Daddy?
"Daddy gets me paper to write things. I like to draw all my family."

What do you like to do at Grandma's house?
"I like her (stuffed) animals."

If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
"The park because I want to."

What do you like to do at nighttime?
"I like my Mommy to read a book for me. And I like to sleep."

What do you remember from when you were a baby?
"Nothing. I don't know. I want you to tell me."

Why do you sing all the time?
"Cuz I love to sing."

Little shoes, hair ties and hope

My house has been taken over by a little girl. Tiny pink shoes that light up are parked in front of the door, a little plastic wagon carrying a doll with messy brown hair sits in the kitchen, art work with tiny pom poms and stars is stuck on the refrigerator, four wooden puzzles sit upside down with pieces in a pile next to the television. This is my house right now. This is the result of my 3 1/2-year-old daughter with an active imagination. Tara will help clean up. But there will be more activities to follow.

Sometimes our house is just crazy. Add an 11-year-old boy's stuff to the mix:A baseball bat and glove are leaning on the front door, (tripped over it twice), two coats are hanging on the staircase rail, a book bag that weighs 50 pounds (I'm fairly certain)sits in the middle of the foyer. It's happy chaos.

And it's this chaos that many, many families are hoping for every day as they continue the process of adoption in Ukraine. There are many families there right now (!) and many are anticipating a phone call from their facilitator or adoption agency, or a letter from Ukraine, any day, with the good news that they have an appointment in December. I look at some pictures of the precious children who are being adopted right now (!) and I see some blue eyes and angelic faces that remind me so much of Tara.

Sometimes I wish I could go back and get more children (don't worry, John), but instead, I will live vicariously through all of the other families. When we picked up Tara from the orphanage filled with 150 toddlers and babies, someone told us it's like she won the lottery of life. Well, we feel like we're the winners. And finally, now that Ukraine's adoption system is back on track, there will be many more winning families in the coming months. And soon, they will see little pink or blue shoes by their front doors and they will smile, just as I do every day.

Happy Halloween

Halloween 2006
Originally uploaded by pics.

The Halloween Princess

Little Tara Vika has definitely embraced the whole concept of this, her second Halloween in the United States. She has been talking about her costume and candy and trick or treating and more candy for weeks.

Stay tuned, there will be pictures of the Butterfly Princess later...

What goes around...

I was fairly certain that I was a perfect child. But Tara is reminding me in many ways that maybe my memory is a little foggy.

This morning, Tara was still in her pajamas, watching cartoons and lazily flopping this way and that on the couch, hanging her head upside down and watching TV in all sorts of poses. I was in the middle of my Saturday cleaning ritual (John would call it my warpath), dragging the vacuum cleaner all around the house. Then I flicked it on in the family room. Vrrooooom. I stop, I heard screaming. What is it? I ask Tara. "YOU'RE TOO LOUD. I can't hear my TV!!!" I switch it back on and mumble to no one: Gee I wish I could be watching TV instead of cleaning. I sounded just like my Mom--because Tara sounded just like me.

Tara is very particular about what she wears. There are some outfits that she is outgrowing though she has never worn them. She wants certain shoes, a specific kind of tights. Getting her dressed to go somewhere can be nerve-wracking! "That doesn't match," she'll say. "I don't like that, maybe in two weeks....That's not the right coat.No, not THOSE shoes..." I remember my mom chasing around from shoe store to shoe store because I HAD to have yellow dress shoes. Nothing else would do. It's all starting to come back to me now. It's maddening!

My dad used to call me the Gypsy because I liked to constantly be on the go. If a friend called, I was out the door. I didn't see the logic in saying no. My mom and dad would have to sneak out of the house if they wanted to go to a store without me. Nowadays, I like to relax on the weekends. Tara has other plans. "C'mon! Let's go! We need stuff from the store! We need milk, juice, lotions. C'mon!"
She is holding my purse and keys. Here we go...

Tara-isms Part VIII

So I'm on the computer upstairs and I hear a shrriiiiieeek from the family room below. "Mommmmyyyyyy!!"

I run downstairs, there's Tara spinning around, looking frantically on the floor, the couch. What's wrong?? I say.
"I can't find the 'pillar!!" This is the caterpillar she has been keeping in a jar. We were suprised to find it outside in the cold. "I can't fiiiiiinnnnnd her!!!"

I join the desperate search, then I stop, and try not to laugh. My sweet little girl is spinning around with a fuzzy brown caterpillar clinging for life on her back.

So I come up and tell John the funny story, in hush-hush tones or Tara will think we're laughing AT her. "Ah, that explains it," John says. "She kept telling me she was looking for the 'pillar,' I kept pointing to the 'pillow' on the couch, and she was getting really mad at me." Ah, another crazy episode in our daily lives.

A great week in baseball

Kenny Rogers, Tara, and Austin
Originally uploaded by me.

Jump back

So I took Tara to her best buddy Natalia's 4th birthday party today at a place called Jump City. Imagine that, nearly 20 kids ages 3-5 in a room filled with those air-filled moonwalk-type things. Kids jumping and squealing and climbing and sliding. They had a blast! (I had a Tylenol). While I was standing there watching the kids, a mom holding a baby slid over next to me. "You're Tara's mom, right?" Yeah, I said. She said, "I knew as soon as I saw you because she looks like you."

Now, I decided some time ago that Tara is my daughter and there's no need to tell people I barely know that she is adopted from Ukraine. Obviously, I'm not trying to hide anything, but I also don't need to blurt it out at every opportunity. What's the point? So I smile and say, Oh really? She goes on: "Yes, her face, her hair. She speaks so well and I thought maybe she was 4 but she is kind of small so I wasn't sure." Oh, she's 3 1/2, I say, beaming. She presses on: "Well, she'll probably be a lot taller because you're so tall."

Now, I'm starting to feel like a liar. This woman totally assumes that Tara will inherit my height. And some of the moms already know about Tara's past. So, I tell her the Ukraine story, the very brief version. She is fascinated and tells me about some people she knows who might adopt. Why did I choose Ukraine? How long did it take? Was it a difficult process? I'm feeling like an ambassador for Ukraine adoption. That's a good thing, right?

Now I'm wondering if I will find myself in this situation a lot, since little Tara resembles our family. I guess I should read more about how other families handle this. There's nothing wrong with being adopted, but as they get older, kids don't usually like to stand out as being different. What's a proud mom to do?

First family

My emotions are all over the place as I read Amy's blog. I don't know her, but blogs make us feel like we're old friends.
Amy's family is apparently the first from the U.S. to be processed for adoption at the U.S. Embassy in Kiev, since Ukraine re-started the process in September. She and her family are going home tomorrow.

Amy and her husband adopted a precious little girl who just turned 3. I've been reading about their visits in the orphanage, the long treks through Ukraine streets, the restaurants, the officials. The excessive signing of documents. The waiting. And the waiting. And the hurrying. The boredom and the excitement. If you forgot the details of Tara's story, you can refresh your mind by looking at February 2005 in the archives when we met her. Or April 2005 with a guest appearance by my cousin Sally, when we brought her home.

I'm thrilled to see a family heading home with their new child! We hope to see many more, very soon.

We don't know what these children will remember, we can only hope to give them all the chances in the world. We're not sure what they truly understand, but it must be more than we can imagine.

Little Tara Vika will be four in January. I asked her yesterday if she remembers where she lived when she was just two years old. She said: "Far away." I said, why were you far away from me? And she said, "I don't know." I said, what were you doing? She said: "I was waiting for you."

Sunday School Drop In

I must confess: I have not been going to church as often as, well, as often as I think I should. I could think of excuses, and mostly that Tara is just too active in church. She likes to talk. I remember when she yelled out at the priest: "Enough! All done!....You're talking too much!"

Yes, that was my daughter. We have gone since that one outspoken day, and she has gotten better, at least for the first 30 minutes. After that, she pretty much has had enough. "Let's GOOOO," she'll say. "NOOOOOOWWWW." Nothing would help. I brought books, toys, even snacks (oh my). When she was done, she was done.

But last week, I got a letter that said Tara was big enough to be in Sunday school! So I signed her up! That means I get one hour of peace in church while she is in a room across the way with other 3 year olds, learning about religion: drawing, singing, playing. So we are not a real religious family (obviously) but this has been a blessing. Because today, at her first day, Tara loved it! Some other children were a little scared when their moms were leaving them there, some were clingy. Tara hesitated for about 2 minutes, then ran over to the crayons, sat down, turned and smile and waved good-bye to me. What a trooper.

When I picked her up afterward, she was all smiles. She said she has new friends. She wants to go back next week. She continues to amaze me.

Pre-teen and Pre-school

So my 11-year-old son barely answers a question and when he does, it's with one word. My nearly 4-year-old daughter from Ukraine won't stop talking.

My son is eating constantly, like a full bowl of something right after dinner. My daughter eats like a bird and only wants popsicles and snacks.

My son doesn't like to be dragged out to the pharmacy, church, grocery stores, or most any place that doesn't have the word "toys" or "games" or "computer" in it. My daughter rushes to put on her coat, her purse, her shoes and her lipstick at even the slightest suggestion that we're going someplace. Any place. Doesn't matter. But we're going, and sometimes she brings me my purse and says, "C'mon, let's go!"

Now my friends with older children laugh at me and shake their heads knowlingly when I share my stories about the chaos and inconsistencies that is my life with two kids--one pre-teen and one pre-school.

Sometimes they say words meant to reassure and comfort me, like, "It only gets worse. Wait til they drive."

Now my son is very quiet, you have to look in the backseat to remember that he is riding along with you. My daughter, well, just imagine the opposite. My son feels it's his "job" as a big brother to make her scream, squeal, yell, laugh loudly and whine. He is good at his job, especially when: I'm driving; I'm on the phone; I'm in line at the store; I'm trying to get Tara to sleep at night; and/or I'm doing anything that requires a smidgen of concentration, like making sandwiches for school lunches.

I'm fairly certain that my Mom is smiling by now if she is reading this. She raised five of us. When I was telling my friend the other day that my house is loud and crazy now with two kids, she said: "Imagine our moms. They had so many more!"

Indeed, I'm not complaining. These kids are awesome. They are well-adjusted, smart, funny and sweet. I guess I'm the one that is still trying to adjust!

Growing girl

Each day, Tara announces that she has grown. Indeed, she is taller. She has grown nearly 6 inches since we brought her home from Ukraine in April 2005. And, she weighs 30 percent more now. She is still petite, though I am beginning to realize that is just her nature.

She had a wellness check-up today at the doctor's office. The nurse asked her all kinds of things to test her, like what color are my pants? What color is your shirt? She responded, quietly. She asked her if she can stand on one foot. Tara said yes but she wouldn't do it. She asked if Tara can hop. See? Like this? Can you hop? Tara watched her. I nudged her a bit. Go on.

A few seconds passed by. I'm looking at the nurse, shrugging my shoulders, giving her a weak smile. Then Tara proclaimed: "I can hop higher than that!" And she showed us. She wanted to know if Tara can say the ABCs. I said yes, but she gets the LMNOPQ part kind of blurred together (who doesn't?)

Finally, the doctor came in, a gentle man with white hair and a warm smile. You can tell he has worked with little ones for many, many years. Tara immediately relaxed. She did whatever he asked. She watched him carefully and answered all of his questions. Even when we know our child is OK, we still worry about exams. Her heart, lungs, everything is fine. I exhaled. The doctor asked if she gets dressed herself and picks out her own clothes. And how! I exclaimed. She tells me when things don't match, she refuses to wear some things that she just doesn't like. She is very much into her clothes, her appearance.

After the exam, the doctor picked up his chart and he said: "I'm going to write in here that she is very bright."

google this and hello and bye bye.

Finding their children

Some families are in Ukraine now. If you have a moment, check out Amy's story in the column on the right, under blogs. You will see the adorable little girl that they are adopting.

"I can't drive."

Tara's language skills improve every day, it's amazing. The only time we have a little trouble understanding what she is saying is when she is real excited and is telling a story. But sometimes it's the way we use words. Then, it's really our fault!

Today I asked her if she wanted to drive to the park. She replied: "I can't drive."

PS: Please keep all of the adopting families in your thoughts. Some are in Ukraine now, and others are anticipating appointments in the next few months. When my friend gets her appointment, I hope to post a link to her blog here. So stay tuned...

Moon walking

Moon walking
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

My little observer

This morning I was watching Austin walk to the bus stop, and he looked cold, so I ran in and grabbed his sweatshirt. His friend Andrew was walking in front of our house so I ran out and handed it to Andrew and asked him to give it to Austin at the bus stop. I came in the house, and Tara was standing there and she said, "That was nice of him."

We drove by a bunch of big trucks parked near a pile of dirt near a busy road. I said I wondered what they were building now. Tara looked at it: "I think they are maybe building a house," she said.

The director of her pre-school told me today that she cannot believe how much Tara notices about her. "Almost every day, she looks me up and down and tells me what she likes, or asks if my nail polish is new. It's just incredible. I could just be walking by and she'll say something about my skirt. They all have their own little traits, and that's definitely Tara's."

When I get a haircut, she is the only one in the house to notice. But maybe that's because the other two people (and the cat) are males. Hah.

Remember?

I opened a photo album last week and showed Tara some pictures of her in Ukraine in April of 2005. I slowly turned the pages, watching her reaction. She smiled and said, "that's me!" Playing at the park in Kiev, laughing in the apartment, sitting in a stroller in downtown with a balloon in her hand. Then we got to the ones from the orphanage. Do you remember this? I asked. In her picture, her eyes are puffy and her face is pale, she looks frail, tiny, scared. Do you remember? "Yes, I was sad," she said.

Why were you sad? "Because Mommy is at work," she said. "You left me there."

I asked her where she is, in the picture. She tells me she was "at school." I asked her if she remembers a long plane ride. "Yes, with Mommy!" she answered. Where were we going? She smiled. "Ummm, tell me!" So I told her we were going home. Who was waiting for us at home? "Daddy! Austin! Kitty!" Right.

What does she really remember? I'm trying to piece it together. I think she feels that her orphanage days blur together with her pre-school memories now. Maybe that's how she wants to remember it.

She loves to hear stories about when she was "little." Sometimes after a bath I carry her like a baby, and tell her she will always be my baby. She loves to hear that. We tell her that she used to call Austin "Sa sa." She laughs, it sounds so silly to her.

If she sees a family picture from a few years ago that she is not in, she asks why. Sometimes she'll point to something in the photo, like a couch, and tell me that she is hiding behind it. (she was really hiding within our hearts).

At the lake

Her little purses are filled with the things that she can gather: keys, a doll brush, tiny plastic fruit. A yellow Matchbox car, some pink lipstick, a tiny green ball. A small stuffed tiger, Dora band-aids, one piece of Trident orange gum from her brother's dresser.

So when I asked Tara to help me pack her suitcase for a weekend at a house on the lake, I should have known better. Before I knew it, her suitcase was filled. (She couldn't quite say it right, she kept calling it a "gooshcase" which made us laugh and beg her to say it again. She obliged, for a while,then she was on to us.) So in her suitcase: two blown up balloons, three stuffed animals...

OK on to the weekend. I took the kids and my niece and we drove three hours and stayed at my brother-in-law's family house on a lake. It amazes me how an internationally adopted child like Tara can adjust so easily to traveling and staying at unknown places. She acted right at home. What a great get-away for us! (Thanks Mike) We had lots of sun and a gigantic raft that held all four of us. Talk about bonding.

We laughed a lot, we slept a lot, we ate a lot, we played a lot. A great escape: We did a lot, and we did nothing.

Tara-isms Part III

We are in the car and I'm listening to the radio and Tara is looking at a book. She sneezes. "Mom! I need a bissue!" A what? I say. She says it again. A tissue? "NO! A bissue." Hmmm. Say it again, please. "I need a BLESS you."

We were on our way to a Tigers baseball game and Austin was lamenting about having to take his little sister along, saying she doesn't even know what's going on at the game. I'm frowning, Austin is frowning. Then there's a silent pause in the car. We hear a little voice in the back seat. "I like baseball! I'm excited!" We both glance back, she is smiling ear to ear, so sincere. How can you leave her at home? I say.

Last weekend, we were all busy doing stuff around the house. Tara wanted to ride her bike (again). Everyone kept telling her they were too busy. Finally, she came into the kitchen where I was cleaning, her hair in a pony tail, her lip pouting. What's wrong, I ask. "Anybody is not playing with me," she said.

Ride, Tara, Ride

Tara's new bike
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Sports, and more sports

Tara has been to a lot of Little League baseball games this spring and summer. She generally does well; we bring snacks, a small pink sports chair. She cheers when we do. And now we have been to two Major League Baseball games and an NFL pre-season football game. That's just the past few weeks. She marches in, pony tail flying around, carrying a purse filled with stuff. (The contents of her five purses would make an entire blog entry).

So she was sitting next to me at the football game, leaning over and smiling at the people on my other side. I look over, there's a very shy 5-year-old boy with his dad, staring at her and trying not to smile. But her grin is contagious. She smiles, she hides her face, she gets on my lap to get a closer look. She smiles demurely. The boy is intrigued, a dimple shows in his cheek.

I say to the boy's father, She's a bit of a flirt.
He responds, "I'LL say!"

She's going to be trouble in her teens, isn't she?

A trip to the ER

It's very scary when you see your child's pre-school's phone number on the caller ID at work. Oh my gosh, who doesn't think the worst? Sometimes they just call because I forgot to sign a permission form or something. But I still feel the anxiety when I pick up the phone.

Tara's sweet little face was cut by a toy, someone hit her by accident. The teacher wanted me to know right away, since it was near her eye, and suggested I come and see for myself in case I wanted to take her to a doctor. She didn't think it would need stitches, but it was my decision to make, she said. I don't even know how fast I drove the one mile to her school.

I trotted down the long hall to her classroom, and paused to catch my breath. I didn't want to alarm her by bursting in and frantically grabbing her, which is exactly what I wanted to do.

At the small table, the children were eating their afternoon snacks, quietly. Tara looked up at me and I smiled and said Hi sweety, are you ok? It was then that her chin began to quiver. Who doesn't cry when they see their Mom after an injury? But she held it in. "I'm OK, Mommy," she said, trying to comfort me.

I looked closely at the cut just under her left eye, near her cheekbone. It was not large but it was a circle, gaping. Ouch, I'm going to take you to a doctor to make it better, I told her. She didn't like this idea. But we found an urgent care center a few miles away.

I'm not sure why they call health care places "urgent" and "emergency" when the first thing you have to do is sit down and fill out a form. I wanted to shout out: My daughter's face is cut! We can't wait! Alas, I filled out the paperwork and sat back down, defeated.

After 30 minutes, we were called in to an exam room by a pleasant enough nurse. She said Tara probably need stitches. She whispered the word "stitches" though I don't think Tara even knew what they were. Ugh, I said, poor thing. Who wants thread sewn into their face? (I didn't say that last part out loud).

About 25 minutes later, the doctor came in and took a much closer look. "Ah, it's a clean cut, we can seal this with glue." Whew. So the doctor and nurse held Tara onto the bed, a big girl who looks so small, and closed her cut with skin glue. My little girl's face is almost good as new.

This was her first trip to emergency care. She hardly said a word the entire time we were in the exam room, and only whimpered a little when they held her steady for the glue. They probably wondered if she could even talk. They gave her Motrin and stickers and when they were all done, they asked me if she could have a popsicle. Of course, I said. She wouldn't even answer what flavor she wanted, so I said orange.

She took one bite of the popsicle and looked at the doctor, smiled, and blurted: "We have popsicles at home! And we have popsicles at school!"

July, anyone?

OK, so it seems like July is just flying by. Whatever happened to the lazy days of summer?

We went to an outdoor wedding yesterday afternoon, it was lovely though it was 92 degrees outside. The big white party tent helped a lot, but Tara found a way to cool off. They put up a hose with a mist of water nearby. Tara, in her pretty summer dress and sandals, stood right in the mist, her arms spread out, her eyes closed. She ran around a bit too, until she was completely drenched, drops of water falling from her ponytail.
The rest of us watched, envious, gulping down water and soda.
Oh, to be 3 again...

Days at the park

DSCN1124
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Smarty

So while we're all anxiously waiting for the new adoption center in Ukraine to start setting appointments again(!), here's a little story about one of our newest Americans:

We were at Austin's baseball tournament the other day and the mom of one of his teammates was trying to get her 4-year-old son to play with Tara, who was promptly sitting in her pink princess sport chair, wearing a sundress and beads, of course, her gold purse nearby.

"Henry, this is Tara," she said. "Would you like to play?"

Henry slipped behind his mom's legs, hiding his face. "C'mon Henry," she said. The boy slinked away toward his dad.

"I'm sorry, he's so S--H---Y," she slowly spelled out.

Tara smiled broadly. "I'm shy too!" she proclaimed.

The mom's chin dropped open, she looked at Tara, then me. We both burst out laughing. "Can she SPELL???" she asked in shock. I don't think so! I answered.

Ahh, the mysteries of a 3-year-old. Oops, 3 1/2-year-old girl who is definitely NOT shy.

Sand angel

Sand angels
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Tara loves the sand, the beach.

ABCs

So I'm at the end of the routine to get Tara to go to sleep and I'm so desperate (it's summer and light outside and she's ready to play), I start to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, like I did when she was just a tiny 2.

Halfway through the song, she says, "That's the same as the ABCs song." I stop. Yes, it is the same tune! How do you know that? She shrugs her shoulder and says, "I just know."

So I keep singing and she rubs the back of her hand under her chin, back and forth, the universal sign of "cut." And she says, "stop!" So where is she learning this stuff? And why doesn't she like my singing?

Bones in my head

Apparently they are teaching anatomy in Tara's pre-school for three- to five-year-olds. "I have bones in my arms, and I have bones in my legs," Tara declared today. "They help me grow."

Really? I said. "Yeah. And I have muscles cuz I'm strong."

I pressed on. What else did you learn?

"I have bones in my head, too. Right there," she said, pointing to her forehead with a very serious expression on her face.

This is good news. She has an interest in boo-boos and bandaids, she loves to see cuts and bruises up close. She constantly monitors our scrapes or burns. Maybe she will be a doctor and take care of John and me in our old age! Oh, come on, I AM being realistic. We DO have bones in our heads!

Don't look at me

Sometimes Tara is 3 going on 13. If she is a little tired or hungry or just feels like being crabby, she says, "Don't LOOK at me, Mommy!"
Yesterday we were riding on scooters and she didn't want me to pass her up, or follow her, or ride next to her. Or look at her.
If she catches me staring at her, she turns quickly toward me and says, "What are you DOING?" (Parents of teens: does this sound familiar?)

She has really developed quite the strong personality. Much of the time, she is sweet and funny. But you never know for sure when she is feeling fiercely independent.

We were driving home today and I was thinking about a friend of mine who is registered to adopt in Ukraine and waiting for an appointment date and I was feeling the excitement for her. And I was thinking about the day we picked up Tara from the orphanage, how frail and scared she looked. So I stole a glimpse of her in my rear view mirror. There she was, smiling, all in pink with headphones on watching "Finding Nemo." (the DVD player was my "Mother's Day" present; funny, but I can't see the movie because I'm driving...)

Anyway, she caught my glance in the mirror. Whoops, I thought. But in a loud voice over the headphones, she declared, "I LOVE you Mommy!"

Three four, buckle my shoe

Tara smiles
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Triple play

OK, this doesn't have anything to do with Tara and her adoption from Ukraine, but it's a quick story worth telling. Austin's Little League team (the majors, age 11-13) had its final play-off game last night. This was the sixth game of the series. The winners of this game were to be the champions. The trophy is waist high. There was a big crowd!

So Austin's team, the Red Sox, were ahead 7-1 in the final inning, the last at-bats for the Athletics. All the Red Sox had to do was to stop them from scoring. But a few mis-haps in the field and a few walks later, the score was 7-3 with the bases loaded and no outs! It didn't look good for Austin's team. The tying run at the plate, if he hit a grand-slam. He was a good hitter. Our pitcher was visibly shaken up. Austin was playing second base, his eyes jutting this way and that.

The batter smacked the ball waaay into right field! Our right fielder ran forward (no, back! go back!) he stopped and reached all the way up behind himself...the ball landed in the tip of his glove! He caught it. He jumped up and down, we all screamed! He threw it to the pitcher, who ran to touch first base because the runner didn't tag up. Two outs! The coaches were yelling, throw it home! throw it home! So he did, and our catcher tagged the runner who was so caught up in the excitement of our team catching the ball that he forgot to run right away.

Three outs, a triple play! The Red Sox won the championship. What a game. What a game. Congratulations to the boys who worked so hard this summer, and it paid off.

Baseballs R Us

We have been going to a lot of baseball games, with Austin's current team in the playoffs, and his new team starting up for the summer. Tara tries to be a good sport, though there isn't much for a 3-year-old to do at the ballpark every evening!

Sometimes she screams his name when he is about to bat. Or yells hello to him when he is pitching or playing second base. It's kind of funny, though I imagine it's a bit disruptive for the other team when they are batting and she's yelling, "I want candy!!" or "Look at this bug!"

Hey, maybe it's a good strategy for winning.

All girl?

We can't help but try to figure out our children's personalities, who they are and what they will become as they grow. Sometimes I'm convinced that Tara will be what my son's friends call a "girly girl." They like to paint their nails, wear pretty clothes, fuss with their hair, talk on the phone and squeal at the sight of bugs.

Tara does those things, except for the bugs. She has no problem squashing a bug with her foot, her hand, a shoe, whatever. Tough girl. She also has no problem doing the rough and tumble with her brother (she has a good right-hand swat). She also likes to run really fast, a lot, and she can grab the rings on the swing set, pull herself up, flip over and land on her feet like an Olympian. So maybe she will be both a girly girl and a sports girl.

That's a lot like her cousin Caroline, who is almost 15 and visiting us for a few days. Yesterday, the two sat on our porch while Caroline put makeup on Tara's face, put her hair up just like hers, and painted her nails. Tara was so pleased! This was more of a makeup lesson; when we picked up Caroline, Tara was in the back seat with lipstick about an inch around her mouth, white powder on her face ("I WANT too much!" Tara had told me) and purple liquid eye shadow spread on her arms and legs. Don't even ask. (The makeup was courtesy of Auntie Karen, who now that I think about it, used to wear bright blue eye shadow when she was a teenager...Ahem)

Will she take dance classes? Play soccer, or an instrument?

I think maybe Tara will be one of those cute sports girls who doesn't mind if she breaks a nail, as long as she looks good doing it. So far, it's been fun to watch her blossom.

Saying good-bye

Tara and Eliza
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Little Miss Personality

And so we begin Tara's second summer as an American...

So I pick her up from pre-school at 5:30 pm yesterday and she is swinging on a big tire swing with her best pal Natalia and they are giggling like they share an inside joke. "Hi MOMMY!" Tara shouts as I walk up. Hello! I say. She pauses, looks at her friend who is leaning up against her and they are laughing again. "Two more hours Mommy, OK?" Tara tells me. Sigh. I guess I'm the only one having a hard time getting back into the work/school routine after vacation. SHe wants to stay at school even longer.

John theorizes that for Tara, going to pre-school is like going to a party every day. So many cool and fun things to do with a bunch of kids your size and really nice teachers who have patience sent from on-high. Can you imagine the repeated phrases they hear all day from each kid? (Watch me! for one)

So we were finally on our way home where we were hosting a barbecue for neighbors who are moving away. It was only three families including us. I told Tara it was a party. "Who's birthday?" she asked. No one's, it's just a party. "I want cake" she says. I tell her there will be some cookies at this party. About 10 minutes later she asks again, "Is it Austin's birthday?" No, it's no one's. "Is it mine?" No, yours is in the winter. "OK."

You guessed it, 10 minutes later, "Will there be birthday cake?"

You can just see her little brain working, all the time. She's figuring things out. She's right, what's a party without birthday cake?

Tucked in

Little Tara Vika is tucked in for the night, finally. I reminded her that she woke up at the beach and she is going to bed in her own home. Her last words to me before dozing off? "Why did we leave the beach?" Ah, good question! (She has never asked why we left Ukraine).

We have many memories of our week spent with two of my brothers and their families. We laughed a lot, shared old and new stories, swam in the pool every day, fought the waves in the ocean, ate a lot, stayed up late to gaze at the stars, slept in, bought souvenirs that we don't really need.

But there is some comfort being home in our own beds, our own rooms. Tara, with her sun-kissed face, wanted me to wait until she fell asleep tonight before I slipped away. It didn't take long. Sweet dreams, little one.

not TGIF

We can't believe the week is coming to an end. We couldn't have asked for better weather. It's been amazing! We see a big difference in Tara this year over last year's trip. She is SO much more talkative now--she knows plenty of English. She wants to live here all the time, she says. Sure, who doesn't?

Tonight we will have a nice meal in the house, overlooking the ocean, and head outside to our rocking chairs to bid farewell to the sea. For now.

Wish you were here

beach house
Originally uploaded by me.

Rest, relaxation

The beach house is exactly how we remember it from last year. Memorial Day week is a great time to be in North Carolina. It's 85 degrees and sunny. Tara runs toward the waves, she jumps in the pool, she sings when she plays. She expresses the way we all feel. Free!

Beach house

meagan and tara
Originally uploaded by me.

(Thanks to Meagan for designing this photo in computer class!)

Little red car

We had to run some errands today but John took my car to get new tires. We have an extra car from many years ago, a red convertible Mustang. It's old, but it's still fun and fast. Just Tara and I were going, and she wanted to ride in that. So I figured it was time to rev it up. She came outside with her sweatshirt tied around her waist, asking for her sunglasses and hat.

Off we went, stopping here and there. I would turn around and glance at her in those sunglasses, she would give me that broad smile. Sometimes she would be staring upward at the sky, the sunshine on her face. She was holding her hat; her hair was flying all around. She thought that was funny.

Finally when were finished with our stops and were cruising in our neighborhood, I told her we were very close to home.

"Oh, maaaaaan!" she said. What's wrong, Tara? I asked.

"I didn't get my turn to drive," she said.

Grandma's House

Tara spent the morning with her Grandma today, she had such a nice time. She was all smiles when I picked her up. It's so nice to see them bond. I know that tomorrow, she will ask if she can go back.

What's not to like at Grandma's? You get all those treats, constant attention, non-stop cartoons on the TV in the kitchen, pretty barretts for your hair, mints to tuck into your purse. Heck, I should have stayed there this morning, too!

Rainy days and Mondays

It's so hard to prod Tara to wake up in the morning for school when the rain is hitting softly on the window and her room is still kind of dark. Her little face is so innocent on the pillow. Down the hall, her brother Austin is also sound asleep, twisted around the covers with his long arm dangling down. I feel like the sleep thief. But it's time for school!

We have lots of routines here. I think that's the only way you can raise children without losing your mind. I get ready by myself in the morning, get my coffee, finish making their lunches and load up the car. Then I slip into their rooms to wake them up. Sometimes I sit on their beds to get a glimpse of them so peaceful--and quiet.

But that often comes to an abrupt end.

Tara doesn't want to wear THAAAT! Austin can't find (insert anything here). Tara's shoe won't go on, (EEEEE!) but don't try to help her! I'm running to one room's crisis and then back again. Sometimes my car is also running in the driveway. Hurry! I say. They don't seem to care about the price of gas. If one wanders toward the TV, it's over. I might as well sit back down and stay home. Hah.

We have had a lot of rain and the forecast calls for more this week, and Tara saw other children with small umbrellas. Somehow, in all the STUFF that she has received from wonderful friends, family, Santa, the Easter Bunny and us...she didn't have her very own umbrella. So despite my attempts to try to say no more often---we stopped on the way home today so Tara could pick one out.

She looked at them all, opening and closing, examining each one, noting the colors and designs. She picked up a soft purple Barbie umbrella. "This one," she said. It's another first for the girl from Ukraine. She carried it wide open into the house, so proud of herself. The cat and I were ducking out of her way. Now, she is hoping that it rains again tomorrow. She can make even the rainy days seem sunny.

That's what people do

Tara runs to her swing in the back yard and throws herself onto it, tummy first, arms dangling onto to the ground, hair flowing into her face. "That's what people do," she tells me.

She jams all kinds of things, like a small doll, a pencil, a key chain, a clown nose, into her fake leopard-skin purse and puts it on her shoulder. Then she struts outside and says "C'mon Mom." I smile, and tell her that's a lot of stuff in her purse. She says, "That's what people do."

I pull her in the red wagon to the park on a beautiful, sunny Sunday, she wears sunglasses and sits on a blue blanket like a little princess being carried to the ball. She brings her purse. At the park, she says, "Watch this," about 100 times, but she doesn't need to because I don't take my eyes off her. (I still marvel at her every move.) She jumpts to grab onto the bar and hangs down. "That's what people do," she says.

Indeed, this little three-year-old girl, a former resident of a Ukraine orphanage, has been home in the U.S. just one year, and has figured out what people do.

People ask me if she still speaks Russian or Ukrainian. No, she does not. She speaks 100 percent English. She is very chatty. She has opinions on most things. She does not like to be left out of a conversation. She tells stories with such excitement that you forget to pay attention to what she is saying because you are smiling too much.

Park, party, pool

Some weekends, there isn't so much to do except the usual cleaning and errands, which can fill the time pretty quickly. Then there are weekends that are jam-packed with activities. Today, we had opening day festivities at the park for Austin's baseball league. Tara and I left the park early to attend our friend's daughter's confirmation party, then it was back home to get ready for Tara's swim class. Whew! I asked some of my friends with multiple kids when this will slow down and they asked me if I really wanted to know and I said no.

So this week, we are watching the new adoption agency in Ukraine officially begin its work. Will they start making appointments right away? Let's hope so!

Today, tomorrow, later

So we were driving home from pre-school and work today and Tara told me she wants to be four years old. I told her she will be four at her next birthday. "Yes," she says, "in two minutes."

When I gave Tara some apple sauce last night, she told me she wants it "later." "OK Mommy? Later."

She loves her swimming classes. So much so, that she asks about them nearly every day. I tell her we will go on Sunday. "Tomorrow?" she says. No, Tara, tomorrow is Wednesday, we will go on Sunday. "Oh, tomorrow is Wednesday," she says, her eyebrows raised. "Then we go swimming tomorrow?" Sigh. Who's on first...

She is so determined to figure out this whole time and day thing. It's a fascinating concept to her.

So last Friday night I was tucking her into bed and reminded her that she is not to wake up Mommy and Daddy in the morning. "Nooo," she says. "It's Saturday." Ah. Sometimes she gets it.

One Year Home

A year ago today, Tara walked into the front door of her new home in her new country and smiled. Then she saw the cat and screamed! And then the cat freaked out! And they ran in opposite directions. Then she checked out her new room, her new brother. It was a long journey home. She slept through that first night in her butterfly bedroom.

Today is the day that I will stop telling strangers I meet that Tara is adopted from Ukraine. Many people already know this, of course, and that's great! We are so proud of our journey. But she is simply and wonderfully our daughter.

Happy Easter

Easter 2006 017
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Big!

Here is a Google video of Tara taken on her "Gotcha Day" anniversary. It works with Firefox and Internet Explorer.

Gotcha (again)

5 minutes after leaving orphanage forever
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Planning, panic and Prague

Indulge me, please, as I reminisce a bit. It was one year ago today that my cousin Sally and I arrived in Kiev. My husband John, still recovering from the adoption process of 5 freezing weeks in Ukraine, stayed home with our son.

We took the overnight flights, which were long and brutal, though Sally slept most of the time. I think she can sleep standing up. It's a talent I did not inherit.

Our flight was delayed, we missed our connecting flight in London, we had to fly to Prague and then Kiev. Quite the adventure. Natasha, our fearless facilitator, greeted us and dropped us off at a small apartment near Independence Square that would be our home for 2 weeks. Well, my home; Sally left after a week. I had to stay behind to deal with some crazy fingerprint snafu.

The next day, we would pick up Tara Vika from the orphanage. I remember lying in bed that night, looking out the window onto the gray buildings, knowing she had no idea we were coming for her.

We smile when we talk about it now. Quite the adventure, indeed.

To remember, visit the site:

http://www.adoptlove.com/cgi-bin/mt-comments.cgi?entry_id=263

Say what?

We know that Tara can sound like a teen-ager sometimes, pointing her finger at us and telling us to stop talking (if she is trying to talk). However, more often than not, she says some of the sweetest things.

Here is a sample:
"You're my friend."
"I like you."
"You're a good helper, Mommy."
To her swim teacher on Sunday: "My daddy is far away." (John was out of town)"I miss him."

At Grandma's house today, Grandma told Tara she liked her pants. Tara replied, "I like your shirt."

To Austin: "Will you carry me?"

Her words sound like a song. A U.S. citizen for almost a year. You've come a long way, baby. Ooops, don't call her baby. "I'm a GIIIIRRRRL."

Tara-isms Part III

We were driving home from pre-school the other day and Tara kept saying, "Mom! Mom! Mommy!! Mom!"
I said, exasperated: "Yes, Ma'am!"
I saw her little face in the rear-view mirror, her eyes almost disappeared as she scowled at me, thinking over my response.
"I'm NOT Sam. I'm Tara!"

Last night, John told her to eat her food or she will be in trouble (She loves to dilly-dally at dinner). She got mad, pointed her finger. She said, "Don't talking me, Daddy! Don't talking me like that! Bad bad bad!"

Tara and I walked in the front door and there was a pile of coats jammed onto the stair railing, I let out a big sigh as one tumbled to the floor. Tara, still in her coat, marched upstairs mumbling about how she was going to talk to "John" and I could hear her hollering at him about the coats. But he couldn't quite figure out what she was saying. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, grinning. It's hard not to smile in the presence of so much determination.

She blames everything on her brother Austin or the cat, including but not limited to: who ate the candy (Austin); who let the cat outside (Austin); who spilled the orange juice (cat); who left these pink shoes in the hallway (cat); who left the water running (cat). A pretty talented cat, wouldn't you say?

Signed, sealed, delivered

We did it. We sent Tara's first annual adoption report to the Ukraine Embassy. We are in compliance. It is due April 6. We didn't want to be one of the 900 families who are apparently not sending these in, according to Ukraine's Adoption Center. That is what led the government to stop accepting new dossiers from U.S. families.

There are some families in Ukraine this month, but apparently there are no new appointments for April. The new center takes over May 1. Let's hope that the leaders of the new system will understand that their children are well cared for in their new American families, and see past the paperwork, finally, so the more than 100,000 children in Ukraine orphanages will find new homes. Sooner rather than later. Or never.

Here are some toddlers in a picture taken in the past month by a family that has been home for just a few weeks. I am borrowing this picture from their blog to remind us about the children who are still waiting. And waiting. Families: Don't give up!

They adopted two adorable children. Here is their blog: http://spaces.msn.com/benandmaggie/

Whose fault?!

So we're driving away from Tara's pre-school the other day and she asks me for candy. I tell her I have an apple for her. She always gets a snack for the ride home. She says no, she wants candy. She says this 15 times. I tell her that she won't get candy if she is yelling at me to give it to her. She starts to cry, actual tears. Now I'm in a jam, trying to keep my eyes on the road, but hating that the little sweetie is so upset. I can't give in now, then she will think that she only has to make a fuss to get a treat. Bad message!

So a few blocks later she blurts out, "It's all your fault, Mommy! It's all your fault!" This she says 15 times. Her unhappiness is my fault? I guess that's what she means.

OK, that's a new phrase. Where did she learn that one?! From us? Her friends at school? Her brother? A movie? It's not something we really say.

She is picking up so many new words and phrases and expressions. It's amazing, exciting, funny and sometimes embarrassing. She is such a sponge.

This morning she dropped something and said, "dang it!" Oops, that one's from me.

A night in the life

Sometimes at night, you know those precious moments when we're tucking our children into bed, I find myself itemizing events to my 3-year-old daughter to convince her that it's finally time to sleep. You had a bath, we brushed your teeth, I put lotion on you, we combed your hair, painted your nails, I read you two books and rubbed your back... It's never enough, though, is it? Why is it that all we want to do is figure out how to get more sleep and all they want to do is figure out how to stay up?

So tonight was no different. We went through the routine and as I slipped out of Tara's room the phone rang. My friend was calling! All of the cordless phones were dead. I think I'm the only one who ever puts them on the charger. So I run to the one with the cord. We are chatting, laughing, making plans for lunch. Then Austin arrives, with a ball. And he sits down and bounces it. Then John comes to see what's going on, and now the two of them are playing catch in the hallway with all of the lights on right outside of Tara's room. And now I see a little pink blur run by. She's up. And she's having fun. I shout out, "Hey! She's supposed to be in bed!" I hear giggles.

If you have kids, have you ever noticed that when you're on the phone, you become a magnet for every breathing entity in the house? I mean, even the cat was suddenly hanging around.

Queen for a day

John bought this Queen shirt for Tara when he was in Las Vegas at a business meeting (or so he says.) He saw the rock musical, "We Will Rock You." She loves it.

The waiting was the hardest part

At this time last year, we were home in the U.S., waiting for the 30 days to pass so we could go back to Ukraine and pick up Tara from the orphanage. Deep, deep in the back of our minds, we knew there was a chance that something could go wrong. Would she even still be there? Would her birth family come to claim her? Would they find some kind of glitch or error with our paperwork? That very rarely happens at this stage of the adoption process, but boy, I really kept busy so that little fear couldn't creep into my thoughts as the days passed by. Waiting out the 30 days was was tough. It helped so much that my cousin Sally had decided to go back with me. I will never forget what she did for us!

OK, so next month we celebrate "Gotcha Day." That's adoption-speak for the day that you actually get custody of your new child. On April 8, 2005, Tara Vika got in the car and we drove away from the orphanage for the last time.

April 8, 2005 blog entry

Today, Tara played outside in the wonderful spring sunshine with her brother Austin and lots of kids in the neighborhood. It was a glorious Saturday. She has grown more than 4 inches since last April, and she has grown in so many more ways.

Ah, siblings

So Tara is learning so much every day, especially the little tricks of life that her 10-year-old brother Austin is teacher her. For instance, how to get into my bathroom when the door is locked. Sure you laugh. I guess this is payback for the times when I was little and I would push a chair up to our bathroom door, slide my brother John's baseball card upward and FLING! pop open the hook to the bathroom door. My poor Mom. I'm sure she remembers this. She would say, "Don't you dare," which only made it that much more thrilling. Well, now I have a new little one who has learned the skill of using a key.

Tara has also learned how to stomp in puddles, throw snowballs, fling pillows, jump on beds and scare the cat. Thanks to her expert teacher, her brother. I must say, he is also teaching her how to say words more clearly and write letters. He is teaching her how to play the Clifford game on the computer and how great hot chocolate tastes after playing outside on a cold winter's day. She is teaching him to laugh more, talk louder and how to be responsible for someone else. Their bond grows stronger every day. It's a sweet thing to watch, even if I'm only wearing a towel.

Little fish

Tara took her nap easily Sunday because she knew that when she woke up, she would be going to her first swim class ever.

She looked over her one-piece bathing suits and settled on the pink Winnie the Pooh. You can't go wrong with Winnie the Pooh.

She quickly slipped it on. The last time I saw her in a bathing suit was last summer, and she was wearing one of those puffy swim diapers underneath. But no diapers now. The big girl studied herself in the mirror, looking this way and turning that way like a teenager.

At the indoor pool, some children were clinging to their moms. Tara was brave. She stayed close, but climbed into the water when the teacher called her in. We were a little nervous for her, and watched from chairs on the deck. We could only see the back of her head. The little boy next to her Would Not Stop Crying. Ack. The teacher, a nice young woman, tried to calm the boy down to where he was sort of whimpering. Then the teacher brought out the goggles. Tara held very still as the teacher slipped the pink ones over her head and around her pony tail. Then Tara turned around and gave us a reassuring look and a big smile. We all sat back. (I guess we were on the edge of our seats).

She had never been in an indoor pool. This was all new to her. But she ventured in, kicked, put her face in the water, kicked some more. She followed all of the directions, and looked back to us every once in a while to make sure we were watching. You couldn't have moved us from our chairs.

This brave little girl, learning to swim. We are so proud. And now she is excited to go back next week.

Let me count the ways

Top Ten Reasons We Like Tara So Much:

10. She can count to 10 on her fingers and even her toes. We have discovered that she perfected this feat just yesterday. My favorite number: "Seh - wen." Each number sounds like a song.

9. She lets us sleep til 9 a.m. on the weekends, bless her little heart. She reads books and plays with toys in her room, or wakes up Austin. But she lets us sleep!

8. She happily takes a bath whenever I say it's time, even if it's only 8 p.m.

7. When I wake her up a little after 7 a.m., she stretches like a kitten, this way and that, oh the drama in it. But she slides out of bed and slinks into my arms for a warm morning hug.

6. She met her 6-year-old cousin Marcella for the first time and they played sweetly like they were best friends forever.

5. She grabs her daddy's hand, her 5 fingers so tiny, and brings him to me when I need his help with something.

4. Some of her new friends in pre-school are 4 years old, and she is really trying hard to keep up with them. She is learning songs and shapes, colors, numbers and letters.

3. The sweet way she tells you how old she is, carefully touching her thumb to her pinky finger for the perfect display of three fingers.

2. The way she adores her big brother Austin, proving to us that we're so lucky to have 2 great kids.

1. Have you seen her smile lately?

A trip to the dentist

Tara walked into the dentist office on Thursday morning, confident and brave. I trailed behind, worried about what they may find in a former orphan's teeth. It was her first visit. I had been procrastinating for lots of reasons, but it was finally time to get her teeth cleaned and examined. I had an appointment, too, and told Tara that I would go first. But the hygenist had other plans. The seat was set up for a little one. I sat in the chair nearby, clutching the book she wanted to look at and trying to get a good view of her.

Tara smiled at the hygenist. She carefully and clearly answered all of her questions. How old are you? Three! Do you brush your teeth? Yes. Tara's smile revealed her dimple. The nurses and receptionists who walked by kept stopping to see her and to tell me how cute she is.

I had read some blogs about children from Ukraine orphanages having a lot of issues with their teeth. I prepared myself to hear the worst. Fillings, pullings, realignments, whatever. I smiled at Tara whenever she looked at me from that big chair. I was the picture of calm. On the outside.

The dentist arrived after our cleanings. Tara gave him her pretending -to-be-shy smile that is sort of a like a pucker. He was charmed. He counted her teeth out loud. She thought that was funny. I waited for the news. "All done," he said. I wait. I ask. "How do her teeth look?"

They look good, he says, no cavities. (!) And she has good spacing for her permanent teeth to come in when she's a little older. WHEWWWW, I exhale. But then he tells me that I have a cavity.

Tara's cousin

Tara's cousin Marcella, who is 6, visited us this week. They had fun getting acquainted. Can you tell?

"She is so cheerful"

I'm not sure why I get a little anxious whenever it's time to meet with teachers in the periodic conferences. You think you know your child, and you just hope there are no surprises, at least not any of the bad kind. But it was time to meet with Tara's teachers because she had turned three and is now in the pre-school area for 3-5 year olds. She is the youngest one in the group. Is she keeping up?

Her teachers tell me she is definitely keeping pace with her new environment. She is learning to write her name, and to count, and to sing all kinds of new songs. We believe she is behind a bit on her English, but that's to be expected since her first language was Ukrainian. She says full sentences with complete confidence. Her stories are sometimes hard to follow, and can go on and on, but you don't even care because the expressions on her face are priceless.

She knows lots of colors, can cut well with scissors, and most of all, "she is so cheerful." Little Tara Vika likes new challenges, we already knew that, and she has the courage to take them on. And, she has made lots of new friends, they told me.

Last week when I picked her up from school, two boys darted out of the class and ran by shouting, "C'mon Tara!" And off she ran, down the long hall with her buddies, and they all three slid under a table to hide. I could see their little feet but I pretended not to know where they were. Their giggles gave them away. A sweet way to end a day.

Memory Lane

The day after the Super Bowl in 2005, we bundled up and raced around Kiev to get the proper documents and personal approvals to visit a two-year-old girl that we chose from the hundreds of files. This link will take you back, to remember...

http://www.adoptlove.com/cgi-bin/mt-comments.cgi?entry_id=233

Adoption process resumes, finally

Ukraine President Yushchenko signed the law yesterday to give the National Adoption Center interim authority over adptions until the new unit is up and running on May 1. This means the adoption process can resume within a matter of days!

Families who were supposed to have appointments in January will be going in February, and all the others who are registered will be given appointments soon.

Those who haven't registered with the NAC already will have to wait, though, until they lift the restrictions when they are satisfied that families who already adopted have filed their periodical progress reports with the Ukraine Embassy.

This new law is welcoming news, to be sure, and it shows that their President may indeed be committed to finding homes for their wonderful, orphaned children with hopeful futures.

See Adoption News to the left for the full letter from the US Embassy.

A year ago

One year ago today, we drove past our precious son's school, knowing he was inside, wondering if he was thinking about our hugs good-bye that morning. Neither of us spoke. We were leaving him in the gentle care of my sister and her family, but it is so hard to leave a child behind. We were nervous, anxious, wondering if we were crazy to do this. What were we thinking?

We boarded a plane for Amsterdam, then Ukraine. We didn't know that the expected three-week adoption journey would turn into five weeks with frustrating delays of paperwork and approvals. We didn't know what our fate would hold. We met a little girl seven days later who was meant to be our daughter. We weren't crazy after all.

Tara's party

Tara's birthday 2006 051
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Happy Birthday Tara

Birthday Girl
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

So far, so good

OK, so on Monday morning, we were putting her coat and bedding and other stuff she needs in her cubby when Tara started to squeal. I mean, squeal. I turned around to see what was up, and she started running down the hall toward her buddy Natalia, arms flailing over her head. Natalia, normally shy in the mornings, ran toward Tara with the same squeal and they slammed into each other in the sweetest embrace.

Now, they are classmates again. (Natalia moved up to the big kids group a few months ago, leaving Tara behind).

Her new teachers tell me she is doing really well. I know that she is paying attention because when we read some nursery rhymes at night, ones that I have never read to her before, she knows some of the words. I know that she is playing heartily outside because I have to wash her snow pants and coat every night (should we call them mud pants?)

I have to rely on her to tell me about her day. They don't supply a daily report sheet that details what she ate, when she slept, when she used the bathroom. That's for the baby and toddler room. Tara is learning a lot of English, it's amazing! But when she wants to tell a long story, it can be very difficult to follow. She takes shortcuts on words and phrases, blending them together. The precious expressions on her face tell us what we need to know, though.

And now, the next big adventure for Tara: She turns 3 on Friday.

Big kids

On Monday morning, Tara will walk up the flight of stairs and down the long hall with her backpack filled with extra clothes, a blanket for rest time and her pink Barbie lunch bag. She is officially a big kid now, moving out of the toddler room and into the "pre-school" area for good.

This is the big leagues. I will remind her to follow the rules, to listen to the teachers, to wait for her turn, to tell the teacher if something is wrong, and, and...

I saw these kids, they are bigger. Or maybe they just seem bigger. They write their names, they know numbers and letters. Tara knows how to write a T and an A (won't they be impressed??) These kids play on the bigger playground with swings and tall slides. Potty "accidents" are ok but frowned upon. The cubbies are bigger, the bathroom is bigger. Some of these kids are going to kindergarten in the fall. Oh my!

I asked Tara today if she wants to make the change at school. She said yes. "Cuz, I'm big girl now."

Birthday month

For many mornings in a row since Christmas, Tara would look at me with her sleepy blue eyes and say, "Birthday?" Not yet, I would tell her. She seemed so disappointed. But how do you explain days and weeks to a toddler?

Tara Vika turns 3 on Jan. 27. Wow! Our little baby girl. She is so excited for her birthday to arrive. My mom had a great suggestion: We made a calendar for January and every morning Tara puts a sticker on it. We are creeping closer to The Big Day. She seems to get it now.

This is a special time of year not only because it is Tara's first birthday with us, it is also the first anniversary of when we met Tara in the orphanage in Ukraine. We knew right away that we wanted to take her home with us, even though she would barely look at us through those tears. She seemed so tiny, so scared. She had just turned 2, and we met her a week later.

What a difference a year makes.

Good news

Yay!
The Ukraine Parliament today approved a new law that gives the National Adooption Center authority to process adoptions until the new government agency takes over on May 1. It awaits the signature of President Yushenko. This would effectively fill the gap of time. Let's hope he signs it asap, for the sake of the families in limbo and the beautiful children waiting for them!

Details are in the latest US Embassy letter, posted in the Adoption News category to the left.

The little big girl

When I arrived at Tara's pre-school yesterday to pick her up, I didn't see her pink coat on the hook. Her little suade boots were gone, too. But the children weren't outside. One of the teachers craddling a little baby told me Tara was upstairs visiting the older kids, the 3-5 year olds. The pre-kindergarteners.

We have been preparing Tara for her move upstairs when she turns 3 in a few weeks, but I'm not sure if I prepared myself yet. We want them to grow, to learn more, to explore, to be independent. We keep telling them that they are big so they will try to do things for themselves. I have argued with Tara when she is so stubborn and determined to do something herself. I say, "Then what job will your mommy have if you get to do everything?" She thinks that's funny. She doesn't know that I'm only partly joking.

So I climbed the flight of stairs and walked down a long hallway lined with cubbies and decorated with splashes of artwork made by little hands. I could hear children singing the B-I-N-G-0 song. I peeked into the room and saw them sitting in a circle, Tara next to a teacher I hardly know yet, smiling and trying to learn the words. She saw me and smiled, hesitated to get up, and finished the song before she walked over to me. Where was that "MOMMY!" squeal that I got used to in the toddler room? I hugged her and scooped her up. She looked over her shoulder and shouted, "Bye guys!"

I think she's ready for the move up. But am I?

Celebrations and the new year

She was sound asleep when I nudged her to wake up. It was 4 pm Monday and we were already running late for yet another holiday party. I don't like to wake up children, it doesn't feel right. We spend so much time trying to get them to sleep it's a crime to make them get up. But we were excited to see some old friends (OK< I was excited, Tara just likes the idea of a party.) She quickly dressed in some party clothes and we were out the door.

This was the second party in two days, rounding out a week of endless get-togethers with friends and family. We have become professionals at grazing around the buffet tables. I haven't had to make a meal in a long time. "Fill up!" I tell my family.

Whenever we arrive, Tara does her usual shy act for the first 10 minutes, burying her face in my neck, smiling and turning away quickly. Unknowing acquaintances proclaim her to be a quiet child. "She's shy," they nod in agreement.

Moments later, she is smiling at adults, running around, playing, laughing, talking. She makes fast friends with other children. On Sunday, there was an entire, unguarded table of desserts, including candy necklaces and lollipops. The kids were all zoomed up on sugar. I was in the bathroom when I heard Tara screeching with excitment as she was being chased by a four-year-old girl. I took a long time to wash my hands. I strolled out and acted like I had no idea that could be MY child with the high-pitched scream.

At one point, our good friend the hostess walked over to me and said in a low voice: "In case you're wondering why Tara's sleeve is rolled up, I did that. She dipped her elbow in the lemon cake."

Parties, anyone?

Families on t he brink

There are several families bailing out for now, with plans to return next year.

This family is still in Ukraine. I believe they had their court hearing Dec. 23 and are waiting out a 10-day mandatory waiting period. Hopefully things will continue to move along for them. Here is their blog:

http://www.coughlinadoption.blog-city.com/

These two families made it home with their children, just in time. Thank God. And a Happy New Year to them.

http://spaces.msn.com/members/CopelandAdoption/

http://www.becomingafamily.blogspot.com/

Imagine

Imagine being in the midst of the adoption process, the emotion and fatigue involved in collecting all of the tedious and time-consuming documents, being interviewed by a social worker who examines your house room by room, being poked by a doctor for tests on syphyllis, TB and all kinds of awful things. Imagine the excitement you still have, that carries you through each day, knowing that at the end of all of this, all of this, you will have a child. One that you are certain was meant for your family all along.

Now read the latest entry in the Adoption News category (to the left). The process has halted, really halted, for now, while one government agency shuts down and the other one prepares to begin. We knew this was coming, we just didn't know it would be so abrupt. What about the families in Ukraine right now? What about the families with appointments in January? We hope the US Embassy has enough influence on the Ukraine government to make a difference. After all, it's really for the good of the children. Isn't it?

Merry Christmas to all

Christmas 2005 029
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Excited! Happy! Overwhelmed! Tara's first Christmas with our family was lovely. We hope you have a wonderful holiday, too.

Rocking Horse

It was around this time two years ago on a cold night in Ukraine that a young woman made a painful decision to give up her baby daughter. The little girl was quarantined for a month with other abandoned babies, through Christmas, and then placed in an orphanage with 119 other children.

There, she learned to walk and talk and shared a room with up to 10 other toddlers at a time and a rotating staff of caregivers. The holidays were celebrated, though there were few actual gifts ever given to the children as their own.

Just a few days after she turned 2, an American couple visited her. She cried. But they knew right away that they wanted her for their own.

This Christmas, 2005, the new American girl, little Tara, has asked for only one thing from Santa: a rocking horse. How can Santa resist getting that for her?

Baptism

Christmas Baptism
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

A special day

Tara will be baptized on Saturday, a special day for our family and friends to celebrate. She will wear a beautiful white dress with layers that flow when she spins. She is excited to wear that dress. I have tried to explain to her what will happen, about the priest, her godparents, the church. I told her that the priest will pour water over head. She said, "Mommy's too?!" I told her no, this is a special day just for her. She nodded, and said that is OK. But will it really be OK? Stay tuned.

Christmas tree

We were walking up and down the aisles Sunday morning, shivering in the cold, looking at real Christmas trees. Such a decision to make! Tara was skipping and touching and talking. Another adventure for the little girl from Ukraine.

Finally, finally we decided on one, mainly because Austin and I were so cold, our toes were getting numb. We loaded the 7-foot tree onto a cart and hauled it out to the car. But we left John at home! How are we going to get this thing onto the car?

After a few minutes of struggling, we got it in the back of our mini SUV and pushed it forward, right past Tara's seat. She squealed! A tree was going home with us. Wow.

We played some holiday music while we decorated the tree. Tara hung ornaments--all on the bottom branches in a group. Austin suggested I move them, but I think they are in just the right spot.

John and Austin set up the train around the tree. They skipped doing that the last few years, but it seemed like the right time to bring it back out and continue with the tradition. It's a special year, we have Tara now.

The ABCs of life

Tara is learning the ABCs of her life. Here is just a sample:

A is for Austin, the 10-year-old brother she loves to jump on the bed with, chase around the house, and screech at with this high-pitched haunted-house scream that's enough to get him into trouble. ("AUSTIN!!!" "I didn't do anything!")

B is for baths with bubbles and toys and all kinds of cups to pour warm water onto her toes, and to lay on her tummy and pretend she's swimming.

C is candy. Yep, she's discovered it and wants it and she's sneaky about it. But she doesn't lie. "Tara, you can have one piece." "OK." Later, she's still chewing... "So how many pieces did you have?" "I had two!" (two fingers proudly displayd) Sigh.

D is for dancing. She does this whenever she hears music, where ever we are. She puts her arms up, sways, and wiggles her behind. Sometimes she just jumps to the beat.

E is for eating. She doesn't do a lot of it, unless she is bribed by exasperated parents that if she finishes everything on her plate, she can then have dessert. I think this is why they invented dessert?

OK, any ideas for more of Tara's Alphabet are truly welcomed!

Give me an F

The F is for frustrated, fearful, fed up. Too many families left Ukraine in November with no children. Imagine that! They were told that there were no available healthy children out of the tens of thousands who live in orphanages. If you look at some blogs of families there now, you will see a lot of very sweet, young children playing in orphanages. Can they really all be unavailable??

Here is what I think the Ukraine system needs: Investigators to review all files of "unavailable" orphans and aggressively seek out their biological parents and determine which children are truly abandoned. Get the family members to sign off their parental rights if they know they will never, ever be back for their children. It's a sad reality, but so is leaving a child in a place with no parents, no special attention, no real love, no family bonds, no room or toys of their own, no hope for the future. Put them in the available category. Give them homes! Americans keep trying to do just that.

Is there more to this story? Do the regions in Ukraine not want us to adopt their children? Maybe some feel that way and they're known for being very difficult to deal with, but certainly not all of them.

In the fall, the adoption center decided to stop accepting new dossiers from U.S. families until they receive the 500-plus annual adoption reports from families that already adopted. Last week, they decided to accept dossiers in limited circumstances, like for children over 10, special needs kids and siblings of previously adopted children. This is a good sign. But it's not enough. What's the point of going there if they tell you there are no mostly healthy young children available?

The adoption community and the US Embassy are watching the system closely, hoping the new process that the president declared a few months ago will actually make things much better. Is it in place yet? Does anyone know for sure?

Americans may feel powerless, but we always feel that our voices can be heard. Can they hear us in Ukraine? Are they listening?
For the children's sake, let's hope so.

Special holiday

Eleven of us sat down at the long table with its cranberry tablecloth and candles to match. Thanksgiving dinner at our home was just a little more special this year with the extra chair next to me. Little Tara, in her corduroy jumper that matched the decorations, climbed into her new spot, smiling proudly. She wanted a little bit of everything put onto her plate---mashed potatotes, turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes-- and she tried most things. But she was more excited about the visitors: Grandma, aunts, uncles and cousins. Cousin Caroline said grace, we all grabbed plates of food to pass. I looked down at Tara, who was grinning ear to ear at me.

We were thankful for a lot this year.

Happy Thanksgiving

So I'm cleaning up the house a bit in preparation for tomorrow's Thanksgiving feast at our home, Tara's first! A toddler in the house certainly adds a new, um, element to trying to get things in order. Order?

I cleaned the kitchen floor yesterday; today she knocked over a full cup of coffee (with cream and sugar) at the table (no one was hurt). I vacuumed yesterday; today she practiced using her scissors on a stack of junk mail. I put away all of her clutter-type toys in her toy box last night; do I need to finish this sentence?

And Mom, if you're reading this, I know you like to help clean up after dinner, but you should know our dishwasher broke, just in time for Thanksgiving. But don't despair: nieces Caroline and Meagan will be happy to do the dishes after dinner, I'm sure, since I'm taking them to the mall on Friday. Right girls?

Whoops, I better go see what else I need to do again...

Happy Thanksgiving to all! And to the families like us who brought home their precious children from Ukraine this year!

Sunny fall

Going for a ride
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

A letter to the adoption community

Click on the "Adoption News" category to the left to read the latest letter from the U.S. Embassy in Ukraine to the hopeful adoption community in America.

Hangin' out

I have been battling a cold for a week now and managed to lose my voice last Friday night. When I talked to Tara in a whisper, she would whisper back, like we were involved in something very sneaky.

So on Monday I gave in and stayed home from work to try to fight this ailment, plus I couldn't really talk. I kept Tara home from pre-school because it's too far to drive; it's near my work. What a good sport she was, hanging out with me on the couch, coloring quietly, playing with her toys. She even took a 2 1/2-hour nap in the afternoon, enabling me to do the same.

When I would cough, she'd say, "medicine?" She covered me with a blanket. When I told her I was going to the doctor, she started to sing that "Three little monkeys jumping on the bed" song. If you don't know it, ask any child. It involves a bumped head and a doctor. It really made me smile!

My sister thinks Tara will be some kind of scientist, and I wouldn't be surprised if she goes into the health field. She is quick to supply band-aids to anyone's "owies." She always wants to see the cuts and bruises and scrapes up close.

OK, so I can dream for this little girl who started in an orphanage in Ukraine and may end up saving lives some day.

Snow White

Snow White
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

An interview with a toddler

We took a few minutes to sit down with 2 1/2-year-old Tara Vika, a US citizen for 6 months, and ask her some questions about her new life, her views of the world, and her new friends.

Q:What's your name?
A: Tara! (pointing to chest)
Q: Who lives at your house with you?
A: Mama! Daddy, Austin! Kitty-Kitty!
Q: How does it feel to be an American?
A: Yeah!
Q: Do you like your pre-school?
A: Yeah! Talia! Loris! (friend, teacher) She's nice.

Q: Who do you like on TV?
A: Barney. Dora.
Q: Do you like to go to the park?
A: Yeah. I swing. I like it. Fun.
Q: Can you tie your shoes yet?
A: I can't do that.
Q: Can you get dressed by yourself?
A: Yeah. I do that.
Q: What toys do you like to play with?
A: Book! I like it. Draw. Cut. I like it.

Q: You are a pretty little girl...
A: I know.
Q: How do you know?
A: I can SEE me!
Q: How can you see yourself?
A: Mirror!

Then and Now

It's been six months since Tara Vika stepped foot on American soil and automatically became a U.S. citizen. Her life changed in an instant. But there have been so many gradual changes since April.
Here are just a few:

Then: Quiet and shy. Now: Very chatty and friendly.

Then: HATED baths and showers, acted like the water was acid on her skin. Now: LOVES baths and showers, insists on one every day before bedtime, sometimes two if someone else is in the shower and she feels she should get another turn.

Then: Shy around her daddy. Now: Runs toward him squealing when she gets home, insists on hugging him every night before bed, walks through the house shouting, "JOHN! JOHN!? JOHN!!" (sounds vaguely familiar to me but I'm not sure why.)

Then: Would point to her mouth to let me know she was hungry or thirsty. Now: Goes straight to the cupboard to find a cup, yanks open the refrigerator, pulls out the milk carton, unless it's too heavy, and brings it all to me. (how's that for a hint?)

Then: Would go to her Grandma for about 1 second and then lean right back into my arms. Now: Asks me every weekend if we are going to Grandma's house. "Gamma? Gamma?"

Then: Loved to get new clothes and try them on, sometimes changing her outfits 2 or 3 times in a day. It was such a new concept to her to have her own stuff. Now: Same! (OK, maybe she is taking after me on this one...)

Looking up

Looking up
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Fall is here

New Winter Coat
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Little princess

DSCN0386
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Tara loves trying on costumes. Maybe she will be a little princess. Wait until she sees all of the candy.

Social butterfly

When we saw little "Vika" for the first time in the Ukraine orphanage in February, just days after she turned 2, she would barely look at us, opting instead to cover her eyes with her hands and whimper. She didn't know why she was taken into the doctor's office to meet these big people from a strange land. I wanted to hug her but didn't want to scare her.

After a few daily visits, she mostly stared straight ahead, with no real expression, just blank, clutching a cracker in her hand the entire 2 hours. We wondered: Will she ever get used to us? Will she ever smile? The following week, John imitated her every move. She tried to hide her smile, like an adult with an inside joke. But we saw her teeth! Each day, she opened up more. It always took 10 minutes to get her to warm up and lose the blank face. But then she got downright silly.

We didn't know then that we were getting just a glimpse of the hidden personality of the little girl. Today, Tara Vika is a social butterfly. When we are home on the weekend, relaxing, she gathers up our shoes and drops them on our feet, asking, "bye-bye?" At parties, she happily samples the snacks, wiggles to the music during the commercials, talks to people she just met, and even lets our friends hold her sometimes.

She has a butterly theme in her room; I never knew how appropriate that would be.

A good morning

DSCN0209
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Hanging out

Monkey
Originally uploaded by lessnau.

Through Tara's eyes

Did you ever wake up in a hotel and wonder where you were, at least for a few seconds, your eyes scan the room looking for anything familiar?
Now imagine a child waking up, six months after she left an orphanage and everything that she ever knew.

Every morning, little Tara Vika wakes up with a big stretch, a look around, and a smile. She slips off the bed and stumbles into my arms. There is no fear in her eyes. She asks where her dad is, she asks where her brother is, where the kitty cat is. Each time I tell her they are home. I suppose that is her way of getting her bearings.

I will be meeting with her pre-school teachers later today for our first conference. I know they will tell me that she is a happy kid. What else will they say?

Welcome

We're glad you hopped over to our new site! We own this one, and we hope to have more features on it very soon, like how to adopt in Ukraine. The procedures are changing already and there are many more expected this fall.

Meanwhile, we are settling into our routine, with Austin in fifth grade and Tara at pre-school. She is learning the names of her teachers and friends. One of her teachers described her as sometimes being "defiant." She needs to learn the rules and not say no when she's asked to do something. This doesn't worry me as much as if they would have told me she was completely complacent. She no longer has the dull eyes that she had in the orphanage. The child's spirit has awakened!

Katrina

It's hard to stress out about the little day-to-day things in life when our country is trying to recover from Hurricane Katrina. The photos, the stories, the television coverage. It's so difficult to imagine what the residents of New Orleans and parts of Mississippi are going through, their homes under water, their families trapped on rooftops.

Some sheriff's deputies from our county packed up some SUVs with supplies, borrowed a mobile home and headed south to help out in whatever way they can. They didn't want to wait days for the governmental paperwork that would tell them it's OK to go. They didn't want to let beauracy slow them down. They wanted to help the people. Godspeed.

Meanwhile, the rest of us feel helpless, watching the horrifying news reports of the floods, the fires, the snipers. I made a donation to Red Cross' hurricane efforts. For now, it's what I can do. What can you do?

http://store.yahoo.com/redcross-donate3/

Wee words

"I can't DO that."
"Bus! Truck! Caaaar!"
"One (sort of) TWO, TEE, BOUR, BIVE!"
"Sister"
"Here I am! Right here!"
"Again!"
"No, kitty!"
"Mama, help!"
"Austin! Where ARE you?"
Outside, inside, upstairs, downstairs, 1-2-3 go!

She is learning so many words and forming her own phrases. It's amazing to us that she has come this far in her communication skills.

We picked up Tara at the orphanage in Ukraine on April 8. She came home April 19. She is 2 1/2 years old. You've come a long way, baby!

Make an offer

Little Tara Vika, an orphan in Ukraine just four months ago, has experienced a truly all-American tradition: The Garage Sale.

We co-hosted the sale with our next-door neighbors; toys, clothes, strollers, sporting equipment, a pasta maker. You name it, this sale was huge! Four families dragged their stuff to the Loch's driveway (thanks, Loch's). Tara was in true form, demonstrating many of the toys that the other families brought to sell. Sure, we ended up cutting into our profits a little by making a few purchases of our own, but how could we resist the little wooden rocking chair??

We had a really big turn out, great weather, lots of community bonding. We're all a bit sunburned and exhausted. But it was a great incentive to clean out our basement and garage.

Austin was a big help setting up and carrying things to cars. He was especially helpful in pricing our items, including the sticker he put on his new little sister's back: "Make an Offer." He's good at being 10.

Parenthood

When I was scurrying out of Tara's pre-school this morning, another mom and I gave each other knowing glances and took deep breaths. We just got our daughters settled in for the day, a little boy was wailing..."I'm exhausted already and the work day hasn't even started yet," she said. "And I'm 20 minutes late." I smile, nod and look down, my skirt is wrinkled. The working parent bond strengthens.

Behave!

So I'm driving the car to work with Tara relaxing in the backseat, a movie playing on the DVD player. A peaceful moment. I tilt my rearview mirror to sneak a peek at that precious little face, those deep-set blue eyes of innocence---and realize that she is breaking up her granola bar and tossing the pieces around the back seat, with glee.

ACK! Stop! I say. She grins. She is SO good at being two, it's like she's read a handbook on the topic. She doesn't stop. I reach back behind my seat without looking and grab the granola bar out of her hands before she realizes what's happening. Pause. She let's out a big yelp. I feel mean. But I think to myself: I know you were an orphan in Ukraine, kid, but now you need to know that there are rules here!

She whimpers without tears. I tell her to let me know when she is done. She stops and says, "You're mean, Mama. Bad bad. .... Behave Mama!"

Well, now, it's good to see she is learning some more words...

Don't give up

There are some American families in Ukraine right now who are on their third appointments at the National Adoption Center, in hopes of finding their children.

There are thousands of mostly healthy children in the orphanages, but the families haven't been shown any (yet) that don't require a lot of extra physical care that they are not able to provide. We know there will be some health and social issues with orphans. We are realistic. These families, caught in the old system, remain optimistic, and so do we. We have seen many wonderful, adoptable children. They wait, every day. And no one is coming to get them.

Let's hope that when the government shuts down the NAC for a few months this fall to restructure the adoption process that they are able to set up a much better system, one that is swift and fair. One that places the orphans who are truly available into the database so that families from around the world can give them better lives, a home, parents.

See for yourselves what a difference a family makes. Our daughter Tara Vika in the orphanage (left) and now, just four months later.

Ukrainian Festival

We went to the Sunflower Ukrainian Festival on Sunday at a nearby Ukrainian Catholic church, Tara dressed in her festive outdoor wear. It was a special day. My friend Susan, a Ukrainian-American, and my neighbor Kirsten, who is 10, went with us. We saw  Ukrainian dancers from Toronto, they were fabulous; Tara Vika was mesmerized.  And we saw jewelry, clothes , artwork and other Ukrainian wares. It was almost like being back in  Kiev, only these were  a lot more expensive! I knew I should have  listened to my sister and bought more souvenirs!

At the petting farm area, we bought tickets for Kirsten and Tara to go right into the pen with the goats, rabbits, llamas and other friendly animals. They were holding food for the animals and boy, were the animals friendly! OK, too friendly, they wanted that food! Now! Like, NOW! So the girls grabbed the gate and scrambled to get out, and the worker was helping, and in all of that commotion, I turned around and somehow Susan ended up holding a runaway baby goat...!

After the dancers, the band and  tasty food, we came upon a display of lovely artwork. Rivers, trees, all kinds of things in water colors. They were all done by children living in orphanages in Ukraine. This was sort of a reality check for me. There are still so many children out there who may never find homes. I told the women there about little Tara Vika, who was hopping around and laughing. I have had her for four months, I told them as I picked her up. They started to speak to her in Ukrainian. She buried her head in my shoulder, I spun around so they could see her face, she did the same thing. I have noticed that she doesn't like when I speak Russian to her, she says, "don't want that." Maybe she is just trying to live in the present, and the future, but we won't let her forget about her past.

Ukrainian Children's Aid & Relief Effort, Inc. donates all proceeds to benefit the children. www.ucareinc.org

(More new pics in the photo album)

Do you remember?

Tara sat in my lap in her pink princess nightgown, hair slicked back from a shower. I called Austin and John into the room so they could witness her reaction. We really weren't sure what she would do, but I wanted to show her a picture on the Web of a little boy who was adopted last month from Little Birch Tree orphanage in Kiev, the same Ukraine orphanage Tara Vika is from.

The little boy, whose new American name is Nicholas, is just one day younger than Tara. We aren't sure yet if they were in the same group, but it seems like they would have been. I am trying to remember him. Nicholas' mother and I have emailed each other about similar adoption experiences. These blogs bring people together.

I did not tell her who he was or where he was from. With John and Austin hovering behind us at the computer, I pulled up the pictures taken outside at the orphanage with his new parents.

She smiled! She pointed! She shouted, "Bo!"
I asked her, is that your friend? She said, "Yes! Bo!" She was excited to see him.
Nicholas' former Ukrainian name: Bogdan. She remembered. What else does she remember?

Click here to see Nicholas.

Still getting to know you

She likes pink nail polish and back rubs, lemonade and flip flops. She loves to swim and sing. She laughs and cries easily, even at the same time. She is not a big eater, though you don't dare try to take something from her plate. She will scream!

Tara Vika likes to hop and ride her scooter in the driveway, shouting "I did it!" She likes when her big brother carries her around on his back. She insists on taking a shower every night before bedtime, she brushes her own teeth with a pink Barbie toothbrush and spits the water out with gusto.

Tara moved here from her orphanage in Ukraine nearly four months ago. We learn more about her every day. She is learning that her Mom will always come back, that her Dad knows how to tuck her in at night too, and that Austin is always up to something fun to watch.

She can be very stubborn! And demanding! And affectionate! All at the same time.

Tonight we are going to show her some pictures of a little boy named Nicholas who lived in her orphanage. He was just adopted a few months ago. He is the same age as Tara. Will she remember him?

Summer fun

We're enjoying the hot-hot summer weather. Check out the photo album for some new glimpses of little Tara.

A community welcome

More than 30 friends arrived at the park pavillion this week to welcome Tara to the community. They were families from Austin's school. Our friends Mary and Rachel organized the gathering on this perfect day in July. Coincidentally, the party was July 27, the exact day that little Tara Vika turned 2 1/2.  We missed her 2nd birthday; we didn't know her yet. She was still a resident of Little Birch Tree Orphanage in Ukraine and we don't know if they celebrated her birthday.

She loved the attention, and she loved the purple and white balloons, the wonderful gifts, the children and parents who played with her. We were overwhelmed by the support and generosity of our friends. Thanks to you all!

More words

"Hellloooh"
"All gone."
"All done."
"More, please."
"Again!"
"Go. Stop. No. Yes."
"Mama's car."
"Where's Dada? Where's Austin? There he is!"
"kitty kitty kitty kitty..."

These are just a handful of words and phrases that Tara Vika uses all of the time. Her comprehension is remarkable; her language skills develop every day. She tries to repeat words, and she uses them appropriately.

For instance, when I was changing sheets the other day, she kept trying to help but was sort of getting in the way. I playfully tossed the sheets at her, and she exclaimed with a smile and authoritatively pointed her tiny finger at me:"You're mean, Mama!" The kid is catching on fast.

Sometimes she tells a long story, arms gesturing and all, and we have no idea what she is saying. But when we respond, "Oh, really?" she says "yes!"  And at that point, it doesn't really matter, we seem to understand each other.

Chocolate and Barney

We took Tara to see "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" today. A cool movie. We went with my neighbor friend Carolyn and her kids. We took two cars just in case Tara couldn't make it all the way through without causing a fuss. She managed to spill her water, my Sprite and a few cups of popcorn, lost her flip-flop shoes about 10 times, and kicked the back of the lady's chair in front of us. (Who would sit right in front of a 2-year-old at a movie, then lean way back til your seat hits the toddler's feet?? The theater was less than half full. I'm not saying the woman deserved it, but...)

Other than that, she did really well. Her biggest offense these days is talking too much. The words are part Ukraine, part English. Near the end, I let her walk up and down the hallway where no one could hear her, while I stood watching the movie, keeping one eye on her while she happily hopped along on the patterns on the carpet.

At home, more hopping, this time to a Barney episode, over and over again with glee. I'm sure they didn't have Barney in her orphanage in Ukraine. Since she's an American kid now, I figured she ought to at least know about him. Let's hope she doesn't like him too much.

Playing around

Here are a few pics of Tara Vika having fun.

Fireworks

Look up in the sky, I told Tara, there will be lots of colors and bright lights and loud noises--BOOM! But I guess words can't really prepare you for your first fireworks ever. It was Sunday night, seven of us at the nearby golf course, perched in our little beach chairs, waiting for the show to begin. At last, at 10 p.m., the first trickle of color jumped into the sky, and little Tara Vika jumped into my lap. She didn't move, and had a bit of a frown on her face. But within a few minutes, she was repeating my ooohs and ahhhs. She loved it.

When the show was over, we decided that the long walk around the fenced golf course was unnecessarily too far, so we all decided to hop the tall fence. That's three adults, two teen girl cousins (Caroline, Meagan), Austin, Tara, a stroller and six chairs. One by one, we heeved the items over the fence, including one pair of high-heeled shoes that would have made the climb impossible. Then we pushed each other up and over, mmmph. Quite a site to behold...(sorry for the nudge, Karen)

We will post some new pictures soon!

Routines and rituals

Every morning during our commute, Tara sits in her car seat and nibbles on toast or a bagel, watching a movie in the DVD player. I tilt my rear view window to get a peek at her. She always catches me doing this and smiles back at me, sometimes she shows me her bagel and says, "na na-na na." It's our little joke. I put on my sunglasses, she puts hers on, usually upside down. I sip my coffee and settle into the freeway; she sips her water and slams it back into the holder. I know the words to the movie "Finding Nemo" and sometimes recite them in a goofy voice with the cartoon, Tara shouts,"no!" We both laugh. Most mornings now when we arrive at her pre-school, she waves and says goodbye, then strolls off to play with her new friends. Now I'm the one with the separation anxiety.

This morning routine is comforting to both of us since our worlds turned upside 10 weeks ago. The new American likes to know what is coming next. Don't we all? At night, our routine is well established. A shower, lotion on her arms and legs, a book or two, a song or two. Sometimes she cries a little before she falls asleep, I stand in the hallway and wait a few minutes. If I go in, this ritual will repeat over and over into the night. So I wait. Go to sleep, little angel, we'll all still be here tomorrow morning. I promise.

Weddings and birthdays

These firsts just keep coming for Tara in her 10th week as a U.S. citizen. She was so excited to go to a wedding on Saturday, even though she really wasn't sure what that meant. She was proud of her pink flowered dress and white sandals, her pink cap and sunglasses. The beautiful ceremony was outside in balmy 90 degrees. We stayed under a tent a little further away just in case Tara decided to squeal or start talking. (She did laugh out loud at a quiet time when someone made a face at her; you know who you are.)

Austin was our perfect escort, since John was out of town on business. Tara was mesmerized by the bride's lovely dress, the flowers everywhere and the large pig that was roasted and set on the buffet table nearby. Wow! And, perhaps to save the best for last..they had a chocolate fountain! I thought Austin and Tara would never leave.

On Sunday, we celebrated Austin's 10th birthday with a trip to the movies with his buddies. Happy Birthday Austin! We hope you like your new bike. And your new sister.

Cruisin'

Little Tara went for her first ride in a convertible this week. With the sun on her face and the wind in her hair, she was the picture of freedom. There were other firsts lately, as well.Her first sleep-over. Her cousin Caroline is spending the week with us and Tara loves having a teen-aged girl around!

When Austin and Caroline were on the computer in Austin's room the other night, Tara ran down the hall with nothing on after her shower and burst into the room, squealing. She loves attention! Notice the freedom theme again? (It reminds me of my brother John and the beach...doh!)

Super soaker

Little Trooper

Just a few months out of a Ukrainian orphanage and Tara Vika knows how to go with the flow. We haul her in the car for Austin's baseball games, trips to Grandma's house, grocery shopping, graduation parties. She just goes along like it's all fun stuff. She's a little trooper. She'll sample the free crackers at the store, snack on homemade brownies at the party like they're the best thing she's ever tasted, swig down some Gatorade at the Little League baseball game in the 90-degree heat and wipe her face with her arm like the 9-year-old boys.

She's always ready for her next adventure. And so are we!

Say what?

Tara is picking up English words fairly well, just seven weeks out of Ukraine. She knows how to tell her friends to "stop!" She also says, "No, I don't want." Her previous nyet has turned into no. But she still prefers to say dah instead of yes, though it is often followed by a soft "yeth." She understands almost everything, though still resorts to whining when we don't understand her. Sometimes we hear ourselves in our children's words. She says to me: "OK, come on!"

Back in the swing of things

Monday morning arrived rather quickly after a week of relaxing and playing at the beach. We are back in the swing of our routine, though Tara put up a little fuss when I left her at pre-school. Her friends seemed glad to see her, though.

She travels like a trooper, getting on and off the plane with ease, waving good-bye to the pilot, insisting on pulling her own suitcase. Change doesn't seem to frighten her, as long as she sees our familiar faces.

A view

When we arrived last Saturday, Tara took one look at the beach and started running to it. Her enthusiasm remains, day after day. She chases the waves, then turns and squeals when they chase her back. There are so many firsts for her on this vacation and she has been approaching each one with wide eyes and pure glee. At the pool, she wanted to jump right in. Hunting for shells, she grabbed them by the handful and stuffed them in her baggy. At the beach, she filled her bucket with water, then sand, dumped it out and did it all over again, and again...

Tara met her new uncles and aunts and cousins this week. What a joyful time for her, so many people playing with her, talking to her, paying lots of attention to her. I remember a moment in Ukraine when I was watching her look out the window, trying to see something amidst the gray buildings and snow on the ground. And I see this picture of her here, at the beach house, peeking through the rails at the world beyond.

Sun and fun

The beach

Tomorrow we will take our little Ukrainian princess daughter and our future major-league baseball pitcher son to spend a week at an oceanfront beach house in North Carolina. This will be Tara's first family vacation. It will be her first time on a beach. She will be meeting two uncles and two aunts and a few cousins, too.

We are flying there, hopefully the 2 hours will seem like nothing to her, compared to the long overseas journey home in April. We will cover her in sunscreen and put a life jacket on her and what will she think of the roaring ocean at her feet?

We plan to upload pictures while we are there, so stay tuned for the adventures of the beach.

Sweet children

Friends and people I hardly know are asking me about the possibility of adopting in Ukraine. This is so heart-warming because there are so many sweet children living in orphanages. Many have no visitors, ever.

Tara's teachers at pre-school describe her to me as a smiling, happy girl that other children like to play with. She is silly, energetic and friendly. She is a loveable child. She kisses her grandma on the cheek, she teases her brother, she never forgets to feed the kitty.

How many of her friends that she left behind in Kiev will get the same chance in life that she did?

Weekend, friends and little lambs

When I told Tara we were going to a party for her, she could hear the excitement in my voice and started clapping and hopping. She knew this was going to be a special day.

About a dozen of my really cool gal pals from the place I used to work (Free Press) gathered together at my friend Jennifer's house Saturday afternoon, bearing gifts---they weren't supposed to (ahem.) What a wonderful day it was!

Tara warmed up after a little while and was running around, playing with her new friend, 3-year-old Emma.

She loved everything she got, so many toys and clothes (!) and when we got home afterward, she looked at everything again, one by one. She even tried a few things on right over her shorts, including a beautiful yellow flowered dress. Y'all are awesome!

On Sunday, we went to our friends' farm to see lambs being born. They are so small and cute and look like little dogs. I think Austin wanted to take one home with us. Tara (rhymes with Sarah) played with her new friend Mara (as in MAR ah). OK, that's confusing. But wow, can the weekend get any more exciting than this? On the way home, she wore the tiara she got from her cousin Lisa. I guess she thought she was princess of the farm...

Outside play

It seems like Tara has the most fun when she can just run around in the yard. I think it all still feels pretty new to her. (see more new pics in photo album)

The Little Rascal

People told me that orphans from Ukraine will eat pretty much whatever you give them and a lot of it. Hah. My little princess has figured out a new game that is very funny to her. It involves me scrambling around the kitchen trying to find something that she will eat. One day, she will love yogurt. Two days later, hates it (or pretends to). On Monday, she gobbles up raisin bread for breakfast; on Thursday, she turns her head. I think I will buy 10 boxes of cereal because that's where she has been most consistent. Sort of.

I remember going through this 2-year-old finicky eating thing with Austin. But that was 7 years ago! When we got McDonalds takeout for lunch a few days ago, I was so pleased that she actually ate the meat from her cheeseburger. Until I found most of the patty on the pink Play-doh.

Almost a month

Last month, Tara didn't know how to use a straw or a sippy cup, or even how to eat a lolipop. She had never played with a kitty or pet a dog. She had never sat in a shopping cart and picked out snacks or been to a baseball game. She had never had Chinese food or played with little neighbor friends. She had never helped wash a car in the driveway or kicked a ball in the grass. She had never looked for turtles in the woods or rabbits in the yard. She had never had a kitty greet her in the morning or a friend knock on the front door.

This Wednesday will mark four weeks that Tara Vika has been home with us. What a month, what a year, and what a life we all still have to look forward to.

She had me at hhhiiiii

People ask me how we communicate with a child from an orphanage in Ukraine. Tara understands so much English, it's incredible to me. I can tell her to do something, like put her shoes on, and she doesn't hesitate. She knows what I'm talking about when I tell her it's time to brush her teeth. She runs into the bathroom and grabs her toothbrush. And her sweet little voice tries so hard to repeat words, it's precious. She grins and says a breathy "hhhhhiiii." Buh-bye comes easy, too. All gone sounds more like Ga-gone. Ball is Baum. And when I say, not MMM, it's LLL, like La La La Ballll. She says NOOOOO. Maybe I have it wrong...

Well, I guess it can't be too easy to know three languages---Ukrainian, Russian and English. She is, after all, only two.

A sweet song

Sometimes when we're in the car, or playing with puzzles, or looking at books, Tara sings this sweet song in Ukrainian. We don't know what she is singing about, and at first, we weren't sure if it was just 2-year-old la-la-la stuff, but we noticed the same words, the same tune, each time. We want to videotape her singing the mysterious song, though we are never quite certain when she will do it. We will ask someone to help us decipher the words. We hope she forgets about her stay at the orphanage, yet we don't want her to forget this song from her homeland.

She does sing "la-la" in it, which she uses to refer to dolls and babies. Maybe it's some kind of lullaby?

She is learning about her new environment and, like any two-year-old, is testing the limits. She doesn't always stay in her chair at dinnertime; if she can't get her way, she'll lay on her stomach on the floor (or the driveway)and whimper, though we see her peeking at us for our reaction; and she points and whines if she wants something out of reach. This brings back all of the memories of Austin as a toddler! (And Sally on our week in Ukraine).

Little helper

Tara knows how to fold towels, put the milk in the refrigerator and unload the dishwasher. I'm not making this up. She is only 2 but seems to have the household knowledge of an older child. We don't know how she would know about dishwashers, or even know her way around a kitchen, for that matter. This little helper surprises us every day.

She does not like when I am out of her sight, she follows me from room to room, trying to anticipate my next need. She hands me a towel when I get out of the shower, she gives me the toothpaste and then scrounges around my closet to find a shirt for me to wear. Sometimes it's John's shirt but I hate to break her spirit so I pretend to put it on and switch it when she's not looking.

Is she really only 2? She covers her mouth sometimes when she giggles. When she gets hurt, I ask her if she's OK and she always says yes, so bravely, and she'll follow up with an "owwwww." She worries about our cat sneaking outside, she helps me call him when he gets out. She's a little helper. And she loves to be hugged for it.

Sunny weekend

Mother's Day was lovely, I have the best gift of all: Two wonderful children. Tara met her Uncle John an