Heard around our house

It has been one full year since we first took Alex off of wheat and milk products. Our idea was to try it for a year, and then see what happened. Well, he has done amazingly well and I was afraid to take him off of his new diet. However, the nutritionist said his intestines may have had a chance to heal and may work correctly now that we have given them a break. So we went ahead and allowed him to have something with wheat in it, a small amount to start. After about ten minutes he started shaking his head from side to side and banging his spoon into the table and screaming. Both Dan and I tried to calm him down, but we were trying so hard not to laugh we weren't much use. Finally Dan said, "Alex, if you want to eat normal food, you'd better start acting normal!". I gave up pretending not to laugh, and had to excuse myself from the table. I don't know if it really was the wheat (how could it have happened that fast?) or if he was just having a moment, but I am not in a hurry to try wheat again. I have become the Wheat Nazi.

The kids were finishing lunch and Sam was safely ensconced in his high chair when I looked at the clock and realized we were late for an appointment (to get Alex's staples out of his head, actually). I grabbed a washcloth and started washing Sam's face vigorously and exclaimed "Shoot!", all at the same time. Sam looked up at me with his freshly scrubbed face, thought a moment, and then said, "Bolshoi shoot!" (which roughly translated means, "big-time 'shoot'!")

The kids were all in the van, Elena, Alex, and Sam in the back seat and Inga and Andrei in the middle seats. Elena asked Andrei to pass her something that was lying on the floor in front of him just out of reach. Andrei carefully reached down with his feet and picked it up, attempting to retrieve it with his hands, but having difficulty. "Don't use your feet, Andrei," Elena exclaimed, "you're not a girl!"

Dancing, Cake, and Friends in the ER

Inga and Elena have dance fever. Their gymnastics instructor started teaching them tap dancing for a portion of the class, and I bought Inga the book Dancing Shoes by Noel Streatfield, and now Inga wants to do nothing but dance. We visited a friend's dance class, and they let her try on a costume and dance with the class (you could see a better picture but I can't get any sideways shots to show up correctly on the blog!). She really does look like a dancer!

Alex took another trip to the ER last week. It's kind of scary when you walk into the Emergency Room doors and the people at the desks all look up at you and some of them wave and say things like, "Oh, you're back! How's Alex doing?". Maybe people who work in hospitals become blind to the sight of blood dripping all down someone's face and shirt, or they wouldn't have asked that. Kind of like becoming used to the smell of cow dung when you live on a farm. Anyway, this time they wanted to do a CT scan and little Alex in the middle of this spaceship-looking thing was so cute I couldn't resist taking a picture. Then later they put staples in his head. He has now had stitches, glue, and staples for each of his three head wounds. I wonder if they will come up with something new the next time we have to visit?

Alex had his adoption day celebration on March 28, 2 years to the day after we went to court and officially adopted him. He went around telling everyone, "I 'dopted today, I 'dopted!!" We watched his orphanage videos and the first few days--he was so sad, and sick, and helplessly cute! He was wearing the same sweater that we took to bring Sam home in. We gave him a little flute-pipe from Russia for his adoption day gift, and ate brownies and ice cream (no, I did not let him put all that into his mouth at the same time). I figured out we have 10 birthday and adoption day celebrations between November 26 and June 15. That's a lot of cake. I am going to have to get creative here, or we are all going to become sick of cake.

Inga's Exam

Inga passed her Tae Kwon Do belt test today! She is now officially an orange belt (double stripe). She had a few firsts during this exam. She got nervous for the first time. I tried to take pictures when we first got to the testing site, and she couldn't smile properly. In the past she has sort of taken it for granted that she would just go in and pass. This time she seemed to truly understand that a test of skill was before her, and she had to prove herself. She started to focus on the task at hand the moment she walked onto the Do Jang, and she didn't have any attention left over for the camera. The second "first" was that she did a great job. Usually I am smiling semi-indulgently along with the rest of the mothers of the younger children at the cute attempts at self-defense that these children display. But Inga was intense. When she did her Kicho the parents around us were exclaiming (quietly) at her focus and skill. And she was one of the few who broke her board the first time.
It's funny that Ben I mentioned that they are sending Moira to school next year, because we are sending Inga to school next year, too. There have been moments when I have questioned that decision, not sure if Inga is ready to strike out on her own and be responsible with her choices away from home. As this year has progressed I have seen her exhibit more and more maturity, but today's exam clinched it for me. She is ready to make her education her own, and to take responsibility for her time and her choices. Wow--my baby is growing up. And I pity the guy who tries to take advantage of her on a dark street.

Multiple topics and a picture

I have bronchitis, and am on my second round of antibiotics to try to conquer this thing. The new pills are huge and bright blue and stick in my throat all the way down. In the little bottle they gave me there are those little capsules that keep your medication dry. They are about the same size as the medication. Guess what color they are? Some brilliant pharmacist thought it would be cute to make them the same color blue as the medication. I have almost swallowed these little vials of poison several times already, and I've only been on this stuff for three days.

Our church is wonderful. New mothers get the first week of meals cooked for them by members of the church, and apparently adoption is no exception. This is especially nice for me since being sick and jetlagged at the same time makes me tired. I take nice long naps in the afternoon so I can recover my strength, and someone comes to our door around 5:30 with a nutritionally balanced meal (always with gravy--what is it with the gravy?!) AND desert. This is much better fare than we are used to having. Quick--let's go adopt another one so we can be well-fed again.

We got a call from the casting director of Charlie Wilson's War and she said that Inga is in the final round for being chosen to be in the movie. They asked for an outside picture of her so they can see her skin tone in natural light. So I dutifully took pictures of my child looking devastated and forlorn and then trooped down to our public elementary school to ask for a signature on the California work permit application stating that Inga has good attendance, good grades, and good health in her local public school. This is pretty amusing since she is homeschooled and they don't know her from Mary and the follow-up educational interviews are done by the district and not by the local school--but we got the signature anyway. I think it helped to mention that the film was being directed by Tom Hanks. Plus they love my boys there (Andrei and Alex take speech therapy twice a month at this school).

OK, here are two pictures of Sam, or Pavel, or Pasha. You can call him whatever you want. That's what I am doing right now, and it changes every other sentence. This kid is going to be schizophrenic. He fits beautifully into our family and is making trouble like only a two-year old can. I had forgotten how all-consuming a child can be who is developmentally at the stage where they are prone to accidentally killing themselves every third minute. Hmmm...if I need to go to California with Inga, can I take him along? Brad, what do you think?

The most amazing day

On our first day back from Sam's adoption I had the most amazing day. And not in a good way.
We made it back to Maryland on Saturday afternoon, racing from Connecticut to make it to a doctor's appointment before the office closed (it closes at noon on Saturdays). We made it just in time, and found out that Sam and I have some sort of Russian cold/flu thing, and he has an ear infection on top of it, and I have bronchitis on top of mine. So we headed home, prescriptions in hand. When we got there, after having been gone for two weeks, we realized that when we went around unplugging things before we left we had accidentally unplugged the freezer in the basement. Hundreds of dollars worth of food was rotting away, and a brownish disease-laden pool of thick liquid had gathered around the freezer and meandered across portions of the floor. I, being the idiot of the decade, opened the freezer door for some reason just to check and make sure it was really that bad. I almost fainted from the smell, which then of course did not go away regardless of how fast I closed that door immediately afterward.
So of course I went upstairs and didn't say anything because I didn't want to deal with it. I'm jetlagged (11-hour time difference), and I'm sick--at least I have a little excuse. I managed to forget about it until about dinner-time. I was starting to boil water for spaghetti when Andrei came downstairs, covered in something that looked like a nightmare version of last night's dinner. It was. He had thrown up all over his bed, soaking right through his comforter down to the two mattress covers and into the mattress. Everything had to be washed. Which led me down to the basement. Oh, yeah, the smell from the freezer was still lingering! I rinsed everything out (major chunks involved, not a pretty sight) in the utility sink and dumped it in the washing machine and started the laundry. Then I went upstairs to finish making dinner, Dan went to the pharmacy to pick up our prescriptions and some diet Sprite for the now three sick people in our home, and the kids proceeded to completely wreck every room in the house while our attention was elsewhere. Fast forward two hours. We had finished eating, and given everyone baths, and then for some reason everyone had to go to the bathroom, all at the same time. We have three toilets in the house, and there were five people who had to go. Elena didn't make it. She peed all over my bedroom floor, massive amounts of liquid that I did not know one person could possibly hold (let alone one of the tender age of 4). Andrei and Alex were standing right next to her, in their pajamas with the feet on the bottom, so I had to strip and wash them, too. Basically I had to re-give the baths I had just given. I almost laughed, the day was so disastrous. I'm glad I didn't--I needed to save that laugh for a few minutes yet. After washing the kids I went down to the basement to do yet another load of laundry. The basement was flooded. The extension plug that leads to the freezer also leads to the water pump down in the basement. Since it was not plugged in, the water that dumps out of the washing machine did not get pumped up and out of the laundry sink as it is supposed to, but instead got dumped onto our basement floor. I was flabbergasted. I finally laughed.
And this is the point where the person you marry really makes the difference. Dan cleaned everything up, and I mean everything. The house is now back to its original cheery 1960's bad wallpaper self, with a clean non-smelly freezer (empty) and a dry basement and laundry all done and put away. Dan took the kids to church this morning (Andrei and Sam stayed home with me since we were all sick), and fed them when he got home. I, on the other hand, got a massive nap this afternoon, and enough time to myself this evening to write this blog and catch up on reading everyone else's. I don't usually get to lounge around, but this time I'm just going to relax and enjoy it. What a day!

Warning--random thoughts not laid out very clearly due to illness

We are in Russia (I am typing on a cool Russian computer with lots of cyrillic everywhere) and have good news--Pavel became our son on March 1! We were able to get the 10 day waiting period waived in part due to a consult and surgery appointment for our son at Calais Regional Hospital that was scheduled rather early in the month of March. Pavel is doing great, full of energy and very social. He reminds me a lot of Inga when we adopted her--he is making faces, repeating many of the English words he hears, and is very stubborn! He will be a handful, but then again if he were not then he would not exactly fit in with the rest of the kids, eh?
When we went to pick Pavel up at the orphanage they all remembered Inga, and were looking at her picture in his photo album. It was so nice to see she was remembered and loved. I got the feeling that Pavel is that way, too--a favorite. This explains a little of his behavior:) He fits right in with our extended family, too, come to think of it.
I have caught Pavel's cold. It's miserable (fill in with imagination here). I was hoping to go to a concert this evening, but it looks like that is now out of the question. The temperature here is a rosy -29 (they don't even bother to say the "-" part), and the snow is packed from 6-12" deep on the walkways (and much higher everywhere else). The ice sculptures are elaborate and beautiful! Mandy, do they have those in Antigonish?
We went to Red Square in Moscow and they had set up an ice skating rink off to the side, next to the huge department store (oh, you guys would love it--I think it is supposed to be the biggest mall in the world). For the most part this trip has been full of court and Pavel and a lot of amazing Russian food. We are staying with our host family in Novosibirsk, and Natasha is a fantastic cook. I'll share recipes upon return home.
OK, Pasha (short for Pavel) is having a breakdown and must sit on my lap and you can imagine how that is going. So I will sign off and post a picture when we get home. Please everyone give Dad my love and tell him that Pavel looks just like Uncle Rick. During his cute phase.