Friday, May 19, 2006 [lunch hour at work]
I just finished eating five of the hottest hot wings I have consumed in many years. I have sweat pouring off my face and my lips feel like they have been attacked with a blowtorch. The weird thing is, I got these downstairs in the Home Depot employee cafeteria, where the #1 cooking rule is, Make It Bland As Babyfood. They should put a warning label on the foods that defy that directive – “WARNING: this food item was gleefully concocted by a Cajun chef whose mantra is “Make ‘em sweat!”
Yesterday was a traumatic and eventful day from he** in which I got very little done. I spent the morning running Mother and myself to the dr. for our adoption checkups [more on that in a minute] and then worked the phones most of the afternoon. I had called and gotten Mr. Plumber to go out and fix the problem of The Smell from Hell – the raw sewage drainage issue discovered Monday. The first team drained the leakage from under the house yesterday afternoon, and put lime down there, so no more smell. The second team came out and told mother they had to dig up the back yard, there were horrible problems, etc. She called me, very upset. After calling a friend’s husband and telling him the situation, I called mother and told her to pay off the Mr. Plumber idiots and tell them to leave. She did. I called a man recommended by my friend’s husband, and they came out today. They told Mom it was a simple problem and they’d have it fixed tomorrow, in a couple of hours. We were both relieved. I’d like to slap those Mr. Plumber jerks!!
I had to have a talk with Al
esia last night at dinner. She was running around the house wearing short shorts yesterday when the men were there, and Mother told her to get upstairs and she didn’t obey right away. I explained to Al
esia about men wanting to abduct and rape pretty young girls, and told her the Elizabeth Smart story. I believe in being blunt. She is so naïve, I have to make her understand danger, and how to be careful, because she just doesn’t get it unless I scare her. I told her [at a different time] about trying a class in Choi Kwang-Do, a martial arts class, and she was enthusiastic about the idea. The teacher was very nice on the phone, and said it was good exercise and a good way to learn some self-defense moves. He has a 14 year old daughter and he understands – his daughter is a black belt. It’s the same school where she takes dance, which is 5 minutes from the house.
Mother and I went to the doctor yesterday and got the medical forms filled out and signed for the adoption. I had to get a form for the homestudy for me, and a Kazakh form for the Kazakh dossier. Mother just had to get a medical clearance for the homestudy since she lives with me. They were pretty simple forms, just asking about medical history and current health. The doctor said she has done them many times for adoptive parents. Other than obesity I am actually very healthy, and I don’t have high blood pressure or high cholesterol, or anything. They did a TB test and I don’t have TB. I am also trying very hard to lose some weight. I have lost a little, but I am redoubling my efforts.
After that, I took Mom home, then had to run by the DeKalb
County
courthouse. I had to get a certified copy of the deed to my house which lists me as a co-owner with Mom. Kazakhstan
differs from Russia
, because Russia
didn’t require that. It was easy getting the deed – only tough part was finding a parking place, and the whole thing took me 5 minutes once I got inside. Everything is computerized now and it’s so much easier than it used to be. I remember having to find and copy deeds 21 years ago when I first became a paralegal, and it was miserable – huge heavy, dusty old books, waiting for bad, expensive copies, enduring all the wizened old men smoking cigars everywhere. The men were always nice about helping me, but the cigar smoke was rank in there.
Early this morning I took Al
esia to the doctor because her doctor has to sign a form for the homestudy saying she is healthy and up to date on her immunizations. They were very nice about it when I called, but pointed out she was due for more immunizations, which I didn’t know. They did the letter for me. Al
esia got 3 shots, poor kid. She whined about it a bit. We stopped on the way back to school and she got a bagel and a Sprite, which helped her spirits considerably. In the car she kept saying “Take your time, Mom. I don’t need to be back at school any time soon!” LOL
When we walked into the pediatrician’s office this morning, there was a youngish man [30’s] in the waiting room, reading a cute story to his little boy, who looked about 3. The daddy was so sweet to the child, and read very well and with a lot of expression. Al
esia sat down nearby and listened attentively. I looked at her and she smiled at me. I got this big lump in my throat and tears in my eyes, I felt such sadness and regret that she and my son have no father. There is no substitute for a good father. I get teary just thinking about it. Of course, I still miss my father every day. I realized the other day when I rearranged my room a bit that I have about 5 big photos of Dad, and I look at his face every day. It hurts so much to know he cannot be a presence in the lives of my children. I know he sees them from heaven. Al
esia actually reminds me of him a lot, and if that’s not a sign I don’t know what is…
I am getting more emotional right now in general, and I recognize it and remember the feeling, from when I was “expecting” Al
esia. You are so scared and yet so busy, and it’s overwhelming at times. There are something like 18 documents needed for the homestudy and another 20 or so for the Kazakhstan
dossier, and although some are just forms to be signed, many require some running around. I have to get 3 sets of fingerprints – GBI, FBI, INS. I have to provide all kinds of financial information. It will all be worth it in the end, the first time I see my son sleeping in his bed. Only other adoptive parents understand this weird “pregnancy” feeling I am going through – it’s actually called a paper pregnancy. I cry at commercials, spend too much time obsessing over the child’s room, eat erratically, surf the net for educational software and toys, etc.
Keep praying I can get him home before Christmas!
