The Crab Chronicles

Marching Bands and Boyfriends

It's very hard for me to get excited about football, even regarding my alma mater, University of Georgia. I hope the Dawgs win, of course, but I don't get excited about it. My parents both went there, I went there, several of my aunts and uncles matriculated there, and one of my cousins sons is there now.

However, I have always loved marching bands. I want to skip watching the football and go straight to the marching band. Football fans think I am insane.

My friend John posted a video clip on his Facebook wall of the University of Tennessee Pride of the Southland marching band. I watched it and got Fired Up. Not for UT, no. I got my master's degree there, but it's not the Family School like UGA. (I got only my masters degree there because I was living in Knoxvegas and it was cheaper than leaving town.)

I got Fired Up to see the Dawg band, The Redcoat Marching Band. 

So I went on YouTube, the greatest time-waster ever invented, and just spent some serious time wacthing the UGA band. I watched several clips, but I have to say, this one right below is my favorite. It hints at the frenzied excitement that is a UGA football game day. I don't care where in the US you live, if you've never been to a football game at UGA, or even UT, or Alabama, or any other southern university football game, you cannot fathom that excitement. I lived in a dorm beside the football stadium my sophomore year at UGA, and the motor homes with die-hard alumni would park outside the dorm sometimes two days before game day and start tailgating, and blast Georgia fight songs the entire time until the game started.

Here in the south, "tailgate" is a serious endeavor. It ain't just a piece of the car, y'all.

 

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Hmmm... I am not sure that embedded. Let's try a link. Enjoy.

We had a pretty pedestrian day, except for the fact that I jerked awake at 6:45 this morning, freaked out by the fact that it was light outside. Alesia had been up for more than an hour. She gets up at 5:30 and leaves the house at 7:30. Lord, think how early she would have to get up if she were UGLY?! Yikes..

Alesia announced at dinner tonight that DN [I won't spell out his name here, for privacy reasons], the boy who danced with her at Homecoming and invited her over last Saturday, asked her to be his girlfriend, and she said yes. She said it casually but her eyes were twinkling and her voice was unnaturally high. She said he asked her out for this weekend, although plans are not firmed up yet. Mother and I instantly peppered her with questions, which she fielded with ease. We know where he lives, but we are unsure of siblings. Mother wanted his father's first name. Finally, we got a grip. "Mother' leave her be," I said.

"If he gets out of line, slap him, OK?" I told her. She giggled. "Of course!"

Uncle Bruce has taught her the fine points of self-defense, and I am not concerned. I also have stockpiled cans of whoopass in my room.

I am proud of Alesia, and pleased for her. He seems like a nice kid, and she is not getting hysterical. I think she will play it cool, and I want her to have her first boyfriend while still young enough for me to advise her.

When DN came to pick up Alesia the other night he was exquisitely nice to Coco, who didn't bristle and bare her fangs at him. That's a good sign. He didn't say a word about my purple hair, another good sign. When we see him next, as long as he has reasonably decent manners and is nice to Michael, he will be in my good graces.

I signed Alesia up to take the SAT in December, and she will take 3 PTSA provided prep classes, the next three Saturday mornings. I have to discuss this with her, but tonight was not the night. It's unfortunate that high school juniors have to start making declarations about what they want to do in life. How many 17 or 18 year olds have a clue about that?!

I am just going to advise her that before she can plan the wedding, she will have to go to college.

Go Dawgs!

The Champ

We’ve had the first real day of fall weather. It was COLD out there.

 

I took the kids to the DeKalb Farmers Market this morning and they were unenthusiastic when they walked in. It’s cold, and there are all kind of odd smells wafting about. As soon as they saw the ladies giving out free sampled of bread, though, they were glad they had come. We ended up getting challah, brioche, and a baguette. We got a few veggies, including some lovely Boston bib lettuce, and some nice strawberries and raspberries, but the produce area was just stacked with people.

 

One thing I detest about going to the Farmer’s market on Saturday are the wall-to-wall yuppies. There are people there with kids in strollers that cost more than my car. The guy ahead of us in the checkout line had all his groceries in those bring your own grocery bags made of recycled materials, and before walking out the door he SNEERED at me and the kids, like, look at me, I am so SUPERIOR to you! Then I bet he got in a big ‘ol gas guzzling SUV.

 

I recycle every plastic bag that comes into my house!! I wanted to yell at him.

 

The big news is that Michael had his first singles match on his tennis team, and he WON!! He was playing really well. I was so delighted and yet stressed out, watching him. It was freezing and the wind was fierce.  It was a close match, but that’s good, he had to be on his toes.

 

To celebrate, we went to an amazing restaurant called Fire of Brazil over in Dunwoody, with cousin Lesleigh. They have the most elaborate salad bar ever, and the best roasted meats. You pay one price and eat what you want, except for drinks and desserts. It was not a cheap dinner, but it was fun.

 

 

Before we read Harry Potter [on book 5, which so far is my least favorite book, I must say] Michael told me he thought the boys he knows on his tennis team are all weak, soft, not good fighters. They aren’t rough boys. Not like the boys he was used to in Kazakhstan. I pointed out that these boys come from middle class homes, and they have never been hungry, or cold, or had mamas that were drunks, drug addicts or prostitutes. They’ve never smoked or drank beer. They don’t have to fight to survive. They are good boys, though, from nice families. Mike is attracted to being friends with boys from tough backgrounds, at school. He is starting to understand that he is different in so many ways from most of the boys he’s around.  However, I told him he is being raised in a nice, solid middle class home, even if we don’t have a lot of extra money. I told him that although inside he will always be a Kazakh boy, he is now an American boy, too, and he needs to understand and embrace that.

 

I told him he is free to look and act like a bad boy up to a point. The point he’s not allowed that is that I won’t let him go to the homes of friends from school who are not from what I consider wholesome families. He knows that already. He has never asked. However, I have told him he can have any friend over to our house that he likes.  

 

My kids have to come to grips with such a huge disparity in how they were their first 13 years or 10 years, in Russia and in Kazakhstan, and being nice middle-class kids now. I think they both struggle with that. They feel different. They have had such hardship and seen so much, that it’s hard to fit in with soft middle or upper class kids around here, who have no idea what it’s like to be raised by an alcoholic and be cold, hungry, etc.

 

We have stopped therapy but I wonder all the time if we need to resume it. I think in the long run my kids just need to find their own way to be in this world, and all I can do is let them express their feelings and try to understand and support them. I pray a lot, too…

 

  

 

Here's Mike playing in his tennis match. / Below, Les and Alesia at the restaurant.

 

 

 

Soggy Saturday

The kids are downstairs watching Inspector Gadget, but I cannot join them. I loathe Inspector Gadget. Love Matthew Broderick as Ferris, hate him as Gadget.

We have had a very soggy day, and I am just thankful there was no lake in the back yard. The rain was incessant. It rained steadily from very early this morning until around 2. Things are drying out. Today we had 100% chance of rain. Tomorrow, a mere 70% or something like that.

I picked up Michael from a sleepover this morning and he looked like death on a cracker. He explained he had been awake all night long playing games on the computer. He couldn't find anywhere comfortable to sleep - that was his excuse anyway. After initially fussing, he finally went to sleep in his bed and got about 4 hours.

Jim, the man who fixed my computer brought it back today, and I am thrilled to be able to access the internet again.  He was able to save all my data, which was wonderful. I am finally going to put internet access on the kids' computer downstairs, but with a parental control of some sort. I told Jim to just pick out a good one and load it on there for us. He said he would research it. Most of his clients are small businesses, I think.

We have done very little today except watch the rain, nap, and nosh. I picked up Greek food for lunch, and we woke Michael up to eat, around 3. He has stayed up since, which is good, because I want him to sleep tonight.

I have been doing a lot more reading lately, since I've been without the computer to entertain me. I love Greg Iles' books, and the newest one, The Devil's Punchbowl, is excellent. Like all his books, it's hard to put down. If you hit a rainy day and need a good book, get it.

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A congratulatory shout out goes to the University of Georgia men's golf team. My cousin's youngest child plays on there, Rob Bennett, a gentleman and a scholar as well as an athlete. I remember him as an energetic little guy running around my parents' pool in Augusta. Now he's a junior in college. Lord, I feel old! The Golf Dawgs are playing in the Illini Invitational this weekend. Go Dawgs!

So Tired

It's been a very long day, packed with activities, and I simply am too tired to write much.

I did one final edit on my book Adopting Alesia, and it's ready to go to press soon. Hopefully in about 2-3 weeks I will have copies in hand! I am so excited.

Alesia had her first tennis lesson tonight. I was very pleased. Coach said she has a natural athletic ability and good coordination, and was able to skip some steps he usually has to teach people. She was a bit giggly and distracted, but she will settle down, I expect. She and Michael are both taking a weekly lesson in June, which I think will benefit them enormously. Hopefully she will like it enough to take lessons in July, too, and perhaps they can go down to the courts and hit several times a week. 

In relation to the essay I have in Call Me Okaasan, you can read an interview I did here. 

Here are a couple more shots of my backyard, from the other day, both with and without kids...

Nail Biting Tennis

It has been a unusual day. Michael had two makeup tennis matches, so he is really tired.

 

Since his ALTA match yesterday was postponed due to rain, he played this morning. The doubles team he and Matthew played was excellent. They beat Mike and Matt by a hair. It was a nail-biter all the way. I never knew tennis could be so exciting.

 

Late this afternoon we drove over to Snellville, way out in the country, and Mike played a cute little blonde boy named Jacob. They were about evenly matched in skill. Jacob beat Michael, but it was not a drubbing. Mike played hard. He was already tired, though. I hope we don’t have these scheduling issues again.

 

One nice thing about the match this afternoon was the setting. It was a newer swim and tennis community and there was a beautiful lake a short distance from the court. The weather was beautiful, sunny and breezy. I enjoyed talking to Jacob’s mom. The only negative was when we were coming home we ran into heavy thunderstorms.

 

I stopped on the way home and got Michael some chips and a drink, and he was sitting there eating his chips, watching the sheeting rain, and he said cheerily at one point, “This is better than a movie!”

 

When we got close to home, we saw a white pickup truck, and Michael said wistfully, “I wish that was Uncle Bruce.” I said I wished that too.

 

Then we got a call from Bruce later, and I am hoping he will come over this coming weekend since it’s Mother’s Day.

 

I am thinking of telling the kids for my Mother’s Day present I want free yard labor. Ooooh, if I can only plan on it…

 

I had an email from Pasha, my dear friend who helped me so much when I was adopting Alesia in 2004. He’s a young engineer now, and he lives in Khabarovsk, still. He taught himself to speak, read and write English. He also knows Korean and Japanese. He’s brilliant, and a total sweetie. I think of him as a younger brother. I was so glad to hear from him. He has called occasionally over the years, but not emailed. I hope one day he can come to visit us.

My Tennis Wonder Boy

Things got back to normal around our house last night, which was fortunate. Monday was too horribly stressful.

Michael had an appointment with the orthodontist this morning, where they did full x-rays, took impressions, etc. We go back in a couple of weeks for them to put the braces on his teeth. Michael was quite calm and relaxed about it, fortunately. The technician was about my age, very sweet, said she has two boys. This orthodontist is a bit more expensive that the other one we consulted, but he says he thinks he can correct Mike’s teeth without pulling any. It’s clear even to my untrained eye from the x-rays that Michael has several teeth in his gums which are trying to come in and don’t have room. He also has a slight overbite. Of course, paying for it is not going to be fun, but I am resigned to it. Thank goodness for tax refunds, is all I can say.

I copied Michael’s tennis coach on an email yesterday about Mike’s new homework rules, since it was possible Michael may miss practice if he hadn’t finished his homework - fortunately he did finsh, with a lot of help from Granny. Coach's reply really touched me. This is an excerpt: “Michael can PLAY. He has fun with others in doubles, but he’s really much more comfortable playing the whole court on his own. The difference between night and day. I love being around him. Take that one to the bank.”

When Mike called me after school this afternoon I read that to him, and got verklempt just reading it. What a sweet note. Michael only started playing tennis last summer. He hasn’t been playing an entire year. He is on the #1 doubles team in the match this Saturday, which should be a boost to his self-confidence. I hope the match isn’t rained out.

I am always so pathetically grateful when grown men are kind to my son. I especially get emotional when I think about the fact that he has male role models [like his uncle and his tennis coach] - who are really good guys - paying some attention to him, and treating him with kindness. Little boys learn how to be men by observing the men around them, for good or ill.

Mike told my mother the other day that his tennis racquet is his most prized possession – he scoffed when she suggested it might be the Nintendo. He had to write something for school about his most prized possession.

I so wish he would lose some of his enthusiasm for soccer, and just concentrate on tennis. When Mike called me after school today, he said when he was playing soccer in PE today he got hit in the privates and it really hurt. “It REALLY hurt!” he wailed. I asked him if he felt like throwing up – no, he said. I asked him if he stopped playing due to the pain. “Well, no!” he replied. LOL -- So I am not too worried.

Mother made black bean soup for dinner tonight, a new dish for the kids, but I love it. They looked at it and were somewhat taken aback. Alesia decided it looked like chocolate. However, It was very yummy. We all added some sour cream, and green onions and Fritos. (Well, I didn’t eat the green onions, ick…) I thought it was very tasty. I think it’s a nice change from vegetable soup.

We watched Wonder Boys tonight, which I had not seen in years. It’s a very smart, funny film. It's very original and funny. The kids kept saying “There’s Spiderman!” [Tobey Maguire], “Isn’t that Ironman?!” [Robert Downey, Jr.] I finally said “Yes! And that girl is now married to Tom Cruise!” Silence, then Alesia said “Oh yeah, I recognize her now.” Michael looked bored with that observation.

It also has Frances McDormand in it. She’s excellent. Anytime I can relax and watch a film of hers, it’s a good ending to the day.

 

Soccer Girl and Jello Boy

For the past 4 nights including this one, Alesia has been staying after school until 6, trying out for the soccer team. I have picked her up before going home at night. The two soccer coaches have put about 15 girls through a rigorous battery of drills, and literally run them ragged. The first night, they made them run 3 miles. I don’t if Alesia had ever run that much in her life. Likely not. She did fine, though. She said some of the girls dropped out right then, stating it was too hard. I would’ve dropped out, even at 17. Yikes.

I have long wanted Alesia to get back into some sort of sports. I signed her up for the local soccer league but they didn’t have enough girls in her age group. She is very strong and athletic, and sports are a great way to reduce stress. [unless you’re me…]

I thought she would find out tonight if she made the team, but no, she said they will post a list on Tuesday. It’s nerve-wracking – for me, not her. LOL

For reasons I cannot quite recall, we started talking last night about Jello. My son had never eaten Jello. I grew up eating Jello salad. My family always made Jello and put in canned orange sections, pears, grapefruit, marshmallows, etc. My favorite is lime jello with orange sections. It’s a good dessert – kids usually like it and it’s not just pure sugar. Sometimes Mother would blend in nuts and cream cheese and really go crazy.  It’s always good in summer, too, when it’s 95 humid degrees outside. 

After school today Michael and Granny made Jello salad, with strawberry Jello, marshmallows, and orange sections. Mother said she took a break to run to the bathroom and a few minute later Michael came in her room hollering “Granny! Come see this!”

He was so excited to show her that the Jello was getting jelled! And there were no marshmallows! They were added swiftly. We had a small bowl for dessert tonight and it was excellent.

We finished watching a movie called Burn After Reading, which was a disappointment. It’s a Coen Brothers movie and I think they are great but this one was a miss. There was no story arc. George Clooney and Brad Pitt played morons. John Malkovich played a neurotic, mean spy. Typecasting?! Boring…

A Clean Shirt

Alesia had a morning babysitting job for a neighbor, so I got up early to eat breakfast with her for a few minutes before she had to leave.

 

Michael slept until 9:30, and wouldn’t have gotten up then if I hadn’t bribed him into getting up with the promise of watching cartoons from my bed. Alesia had left him two hard boiled eggs, which he ate during the commercial for Ben Ten. Don’t ask me what “Ben Ten” is – it’s a cartoon, is all I know.

 

Michael talked to the therapist alone today, about his visit to Kate’s Club, I believe. It’s good he was able to talk without me in there – he has been very shy, up to now. She will ask something and I will see him struggling to find the right words for a reply, silently mouthing different words.

 

Michael was invited to the birthday party of a classmate today, and was excited about going. At lunch, Mother remarked he needed to put on a clean shirt, a nice sports shirt. He had dressed himself, despite my objections, in a cotton tee shirt and shorts. It was very cold today, only in the 30’s.

 

I thought Mother’s asking Michael to put on a clean shirt was perfectly reasonable, but he set his jaw and refused. I explained all the reasons why he needed to change his shirt. I didn’t lose my temper. Still, he refused. I told him if he didn’t put on a clean shirt, I would fine him $10.

 

He went to his room and sat on the floor, pouting. Alesia couldn’t talk sense into him. I couldn’t get him to change his shirt. He wedged himself between the bed and wall, where I couldn’t follow. I finally threw myself across the bed and caressed his head, and told him how much I hated the fact he wasn’t going to the party, and how disappointed his friend would be. I controlled my temper. I could see him wanting to give in, but wanting to win even more. I knew he was nervous about the party – he’s always scared of new experiences.

 

I finally said “Look, Michael, this is silly. Choose any shirt in the closet or drawer, any one, and you can wear it, and I’ll give you your money back.”

 

Still sullen, he changed into his newest shirt, and then swore he wouldn’t take off his hoodie the whole time. Fine, I replied. We got in the car. He said as soon as we got out of the driveway he had changed his mind and didn’t want to go. I ignored him. The child’s house is literally 2 minutes from our house, but in a very swanky new neighborhood, of huge homes with no yards. Michael kept saying “I don’t want to go!” and Alesia and I both agreed we wanted to see inside that house! “C’mon, Michael!” Alesia urged him.

 

Well, you can guess the rest. It was a beautiful home, and the people were very nice. When I picked Mike up later he was mad because he wanted to stay longer!

 

While he was there, I took Alesia to Sports Authority for some new tennis shoes. Thankfully, they were all on sale. I got her some cool black Nike shoes.

 

Alesia watched an hour of the educational film I ordered about the Medicis, to help her learn about the Renaissance. She yawned the whole time. After Part I, I told her we could switch to a movie.

 

We watched Prince of Tides  - a movie I remember hating when it came out. I had read the Pat Conroy book and loved it, but of course the movie wasn’t like my vision. I realized tonight it’s a much better movie than I had given it credit for, and Streisand is pretty subdued in it. It’s a showcase for Nick Nolte, who gave an amazing performance. The only thing I found really annoying was Nolte’s character's insistence that the southern way is to keep everything painful hidden, and never discuss it. I think that’s a characteristic of a lot of folks, not just southerners.

 

I showed the film to Alesia because it deals with Nolte’s character going back to his childhood to dredge up a very painful memory, and how that admittance finally helps him heal. I want Alesia to think about that, because it’s important for her. Remembering what she suffered and processing it is how she can heal, finally. I think in the pivotal scene, when she saw Nolte crying, she shed a tear or two, which is actually a good thing.

 

The weather is still bitterly cold. It’s so unlike Atlanta. However, I am hoping it will get back to normal [highs in the 50’s] soon.

Big Michael and Little Michael

We have a large pumpkin sitting outside our house, a leftover Halloween decoration. It was so huge and pretty I didn’t want to carve it, so we didn’t do that. However, it’s so heavy I don’t want to throw out my back moving it, and I hate to ask the kids to do it. I suppose it will need to be moved soon, maybe to the side yard. Mother keeps threatening to walk outside with a can of spray paint and paint it gold, so it will “look Christmasy.” She has been known to get a little crazy with cans of gold spray paint, so I really need to make some definite removal plan.

After thinking it over, I went ahead and put the blurry photos of my kids in front of the Christmas tree into the Photo Album entitled Dee’s Photos. Alesia looks sort of maniacal and Mike looks like he wants to hit someone. Ah, the wonderful spirit of Christmas.

Alesia couldn’t get herself dressed this morning – probably all my fault, for asking her to clean up her room yesterday, which included putting away her clean clothes. Plus, of course she had to spend 40 minutes fixing her hair. At 7:32 I told her we had to get in the car to get Mike to school and she screamed through the door, “I don’t have a shirt on!”  My eyes nearly rolled back in my head. She has 2 dozen shirts to choose from, already! How hard is it to find a shirt to go with blue jeans?!

So we get in the car, finally, and drop off Mike. He does his usual run for the door to avoid the late bell.

We’re headed towards Alesia’s school and I am lost in thought and suddenly she says with great venom in her voice, “I HATE this music!” - so I was forced to pay attention to it. It was “Carol of the Bells” played by Kenny G on the smooth jazz station. Now, Alesia professes to love “Carol of the Bells” [which Michael refers to as “that weird song that sounds like Halloween”] but only a particular arrangement. The smooth jazz version was horrific to Alesia. I switched the station, then they played an ad I hate, so I just randomly punched a button, trying to keep my eyes on the road. Suddenly the smooth saxophone version of “Carol of the Bells” again filled the car. Alesia went mental, hollering “I told you, I HATE that! Change it! I would rather hear the NEWS!!” I put it on NPR very quickly.I dread the day when she starts drinking coffee...

We get to the school, and there’s the usual bottleneck. I am waiting for a line of cars to turn right in front of me, one after another, and Alesia looks at me like I am insane, and hisses, “Why don’t you turn already?!” I said evenly, “Alesia I don’t want to have a wreck, so we will just have to wait a minute, kiddo.” She was not going to be late - we had plenty of time. As soon as we got to the door she jumped out, grabbed her books, and walked quickly away. She doesn’t like to be seen associating with me and my 10 year old banged up Mazda, I guess. Maybe the fact that last year I once dropped her off and shouted after her “I love you! Have a good day!” – causing heads to turn - has something to do with it. I figured hey, I will never be a Cool Mom. Might as well be myself.

: )

Mike comes up to me at least once a day now and uses his most endearing, cajoling voice, to say “Mooooommmmm…. I just CAN’T wait until Christmas for my Nintendo!” And I always say “Well, you will have to just wait, Kiddo, like everybody else.” Yesterday, he tried a new tack. “Mom, I am going to run downstairs on Christmas morning and open my Nintendo and play with it! You and Alesia can just sleep late and come down later!” Oh yeah, like that’s gonna happen...

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I am pondering writing a sequel to Jack’s New Family, my children’s book written from the perspective of an 8 year old boy adopted by an American single mom. I was thinking about focusing on his first year at home, and all the adjustments he has to make, and how he feels about everything. I want it to be realistic, but not heavy-duty drama. Obviously, my life provides great material for such an undertaking. However, a lot of you out there reading this probably have ideas or anecdotes you might want to share, so feel free to email me or leave me a comment.

Now, I don’t have an agent, or any notion how to get this thing published, or even when I might find time to write it, but hey, that’s where faith comes in. If I have a good, solid story, and folks want to read it, I can alwaysfind a way.

The thought of writing a realistic book about what it’s like to be a newly-adopted child in an American family is very exciting, but also scary. Kids have different experiences. Some kids adapt well, other kids have a really tough time. I’ve seen a bit of everything with my kids. It amazes me how different Michael and Alesia are in their reactions to things.

Finding an illustrator is another tricky proposition, but I am not going to even think about that until I decide for sure whether or not to do the book. Once it’s written, then I’ll think about illustrations…

The thing that makes me want to press on, and make this book a reality, is that there are resources out there for parents of adopted kids. There are books out there for adopted kids who are small, and a few for kids who are teens, but there’s a vast are between 6 and 16 where there’s almost nothing. If I can give kids who read the book a way to identify with Jack, a feeling of “Oh, so what I’m feeling is not unique, this is common to kids adjusting to an American home” – then I will feel like I have accomplished something important.

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I was so tickled tonight to see an email from my cousin Raye's son, Michael Hasty, who runs a terrific design business in Myrtle Beach, Inkhaus. Here's a link to a post about my grandfather, Bob Hasty. He was Michael Hasty's great-grandfather.

Michael's grandfather Bobby, my mother's oldest brother, was a big part of his life growing up, as his parents divorced when he was a baby. We are all very proud of Michael [Hasty] for his terrific business, plus he and his wife are expecting their first baby soon.

This is Michael Hasty and his cousin Lana, in Myrtle Beach in fall 2007. You can see Alesia next to Lana, being camera shy.

This is Bobby Hasty, and little Michael, his great nephew, last year. Bobby was named for his father, my grandfather Bob Hasty, and there's a strong resemblance. I wish I were a better photographer...

When I was in Kazakhstan, I asked Michael to choose an American name, because I felt like "Igor" was going to cause problems. I showed him a list of about a dozen names, and he chose Michael Robert. I was so pleased because Robert is the name of my grandfather, Bob Hasty, plus my uncle Bobby, his son, plus Bobby's son Robert, and Michael is Raye's son, as I mentioned. [On Dad's side we have his brother Robert Thompson and his grandson Rob Bennett.] So Michael and Robert are family names. Then the adoption hearing was held on April 3rd, which was my grandfather's wedding anniversary to Mamaw. Just more evidence this little guy was meant to be part of our family, I felt.

Splish Splash

It has rained so much today, it feels like a Jacques Cousteau movie. I could hear him in my head this morning: “And now, Dee and Michael walk to ze car, zayre feet making ze squish squish sounds in ze saturated urt…”

I ran errands this morning praying the rain would abate every time I had to get out of the car. It was pouring when we went in for Michael’s noon therapy appointment.

The kids and I went to lunch at Firehouse Subs. Mother won’t leave the house when it’s rainy; says it bothers her arthritis too much. So we are sitting there eating our sandwiches – and they have the best meatball sub I’ve ever tasted, BTW – and the Georgia / Georgia Tech game is on. Of course, I am yelling for the Dawgs. I was sitting there cursing and laughing, totally engrossed in the game. Mike was horrified. The people behind the counter were all pulling for Tech. I HAD to yell for Georgia. It’s the family school. Michael just doesn’t understand that watching a football game can be an emotional experience. I couldn’t care less about football unless the Dawgs are playing, and if they are playing Tech or Tennessee. You see - and this embarrasses me - we have Tech fans in my family. I won’t name names. Despite the Dawgs’ loss today, though, I will back the Dawgs under any circumstances.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty leisurely. I meant to put up the Christmas tree, but I was too wiped out.

I watched a great program on the Food Network about a young pastry chef who makes incredible cakes, Duff. Peculiar looking guy, but his show Ace of Cakes is really fascinating. I have lately become fascinated with decorated cakes and fondant. I couldn’t decorate a cake to save my life, but I find it really enthralling. I don’t know why…

A couple of months ago I hear about a website, Phojoe.com, that alters photos to make the person appear older or younger. I sent in photos of my kids to get baby pictures. I have no baby photos of my kids when they were younger. I was not really happy with the phojoe results, but at least if they ever get a school assignment where they need a baby picture, they have one.