I didn’t really blog about the traumatic
experience I suffered Wednesday afternoon.
My office shut down at 3 on Wednesday and I
came home and got Alesia. We ran to UPS and then Kroger, for some last minute
things. The Kroger was like a disaster movie – bizarre, wild-eyed folks all
desperate for some last minute item. As we walked in, we had to wait at the
door before we could even grab a buggy, as a woman was wrestling with a toddler
who was screaming. She got him subdued and went off, fighting her way through
the crowds. We pushed our way around the unfamiliar store, desperately
searching for a few items. The buttermilk section was decimated – there were
maybe 3 cartons in there. [You can’t make decent cornbread without buttermilk,
and this IS the south, even thought it’s also suburban Atlanta.] The soup aisle
was jammed. I didn’t even attempt it – I sent in Alesia. We finally got to the
front, and jumped in the line where you scan your own stuff. A Kroger clerk who
looked like she desperately needed anti-anxiety medication barked at us to “Go
to the BACK of the line!” – meaning waaaaay back, down the dog food aisle.
There were 25 people ahead of us and that was the SHORT line. I saw this
elegantly dressed older lady wandering around vaguely mumbling “She’s bringing
her dog. What do I feed it?!...” I thought to myself, well, not these
overpriced pseudo-plastic dog “treats,” for heaven’s sake, get some Purina,
jeesh…
Coco doesn’t eat dog treats. She eats people
food. She had been feeling puny all day yesterday, but I got some white meat
off the turkey and gave it to her and she perked right up.
I was thinking about doing a blog about my
many varied Thanksgiving experiences over the years. Sounds boring, huh?! I
will cut to the chase. The best Thanksgiving ever was in 1970. I was 8 years
old. My mother and her two brothers and their families, and my grandparents,
all rented a big cabin up in the mountains, near Amicalola Falls .
We had wonderful meals. I played with my cousins, we walked over to the
waterfalls, we went shopping at a little country store. My father taught all
the kids how to skip rocks. It was lovely. My aunt and uncle made audio
recordings of everyone in the family and I still have a copy of the tape. It’s
the only recording I have of my grandparents’ voices.
That weekend, my grandmother played a really
funny practical joke on us all. She dressed up like a really decrepit bag lady
and came knocking on the door late the second night. My mentally challenged
cousin opened the door and she asked for a light for her cigarette. He said
something polite like “I am sorry, I don’t have any matches,” and my uncle went
to the door and saw Mamaw. He immediately knew it was her. He kept bending down
to see her face [he’s 6’3] and she kept pulling her hat lower and stooping over
[she was 4’11]. She finally couldn’t go any lower, and started laughing and the
joke was blown. I was standing behind my uncle trying to get a look at this
weird old woman who had come to the door, totally startled. Mamaw had gone to
great lengths for the joke – she had borrowed her sister’s wig, and put chewing
gum over her teeth so it looked like she was toothless. And people sometimes
wonder where I got my acting ability?!
The worst Thanksgiving was in the late
1980’s, in Knoxville. My brother was stationed in Germany and couldn’t come
home, and Dad decided we’d spend the day serving Thanksgiving dinner at the
Salvation Army mission downtown. Now, Dad was a huge supporter of the Salvation
Army, and raised a lot of money for them over the years. He also believed in
personally working, too. He rang the bell and worked a kettle one day every
Christmas, and he gave out toys and food to needy families every year. So he
was a familiar sight down there, and that was his main charity. However, I was
in my 20’s and full of idealism, and I thought well, this will be a good way to
spend the day, with poor families. Only there were no families, just ancient, really
smelly men. The families went to a different facility. The men looked haunted.
It was depressing. I don’t mean to sound awful, but I really didn’t want to be
there. I kept thinking, what will they eat tomorrow? Why can’t they stop living
on the streets? Dad explained, in the car, that most of those men chose to live
on the streets, even though the Salvation Army wanted to help them live better.
Dad could see the despair and not let it get to him. It got to me, though. Coupled
with the sadness of missing my brother, it made for a terrible day.
The irony is that years later, I adopted a
child who had lived in the streets at times, with his birth mom. Michael has
clear memories of not having any food, being cold, sleeping on concrete, etc. His
early childhood was the stuff of nightmares and horror movies. Now he has a
warm, secure, loving home. So I feel like I was finally able to do something
about homelessness, in my own small way. I also have a wonderful son. I think
Dad would approve.
The oddest Thanksgiving for me was in 2004.
Alesia’s adoption hearing was on November 14th. There was a
mandatory 10 day waiting period after the court hearing. I had just started a
new job so I had to come back and work. The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I got
to the airport at like 6 in the morning, hoping to catch a flight to New York
with my precious Delta buddy pass – one always flies standby on a buddy pass. I
got on, seated in the very back of the plane, but it was fine. I got to New
York and spent all day hanging out at JFK, waiting for the evening flight to
Moscow. Got to Moscow and it was Wednesday morning by my body clock, but Wed.
late afternoon after the time change. After the nightmare of getting a cab to a
different airport and getting on an overnight flight to Khabarovsk, we finally
got in early the next morning. [I had a friend traveling with me.] I had to
wait 45 minutes at the Khabarovsk airport for the adoption agency
representative to show up, then haul my bags across the frozen expanse of
parking lot. It was about 2 degrees, and windy. There were layers of snow and
ice on the ground.
The agency had told me I absolutely had to
be there Friday morning, early, to do some adoption thing. I had put myself
through a tremendous amount of stress with travel planning, trying to get there
by then. The agency rep told me when we were in the car going to the hotel that
it actually wasn’t necessary – my presence wasn’t required Friday morning after
all. That ticked me off enormously. I hadn’t slept in two days, either. We got
to the hotel and got checked in. I was then informed that I wouldn’t be able to
even go out to the orphanage and see Alesia until the next afternoon, late. I
had told her I would see her that day, Thursday. I later learned Alesia was
frantic with worry, and had called her English tutor, who then called me to
make sure I had gotten in. I spent Thursday walking around town a bit, then trying
to nap, and finally going out to dinner with my friend and my Russian friend,
Pasha. I was so unhappy, though because I couldn’t see Alesia. [That’s one of
the many reasons I will never use that agency again and I don’t recommend them
to others, fyi.] Of course, in Russia Thanksgiving is just another day. There
was no turkey on the menu. I think I had fish and tried to pretend it was
turkey. So that Thanksgiving was quite bizarre.
I have started my Christmas shopping. I like
to buy things online, or on the phone. Makes life much easier. I hate going to
stores.
I had to work today, which is a bummer. The
company only counts Thanksgiving Day as a paid holiday. It was very
quiet. Not a soul poked their head around the door of my cubicle. There was
almost nobody around. I called home a couple of times. Mother said the kids had
a quiet day, mostly playing games and relaxing. Wednesday and yesterday were
rather busy days, so I am glad they had some down time.
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I found a website that has amazing products
for parents who have adopted kids form Russia or the former Russian republics.
It’s Adopted From Russia. They have bilingual books, tools to help kids learn
Russian, or learn English, etc. I went on there with Alesia and Michael
watching and we found several products they would like to have. I’m trying to
work it out so they might offer copies of my book, too. We shall see.
Regardless, it’s a nice site.
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My friend Laura sent me the coolest photo
the other day, of a cake her niece Melissa had made, which looks just like a
turkey!
Melissa makes
AMAZING and beautiful cakes. She can custom make a cake for any occasion. The
profits go to help foster children in her home county have a happy Christmas,
as Melissa sponsors several children. I copied her explanation of this, below.
So if you are in
the Atlanta metro area and want a special cake, Melissa is your gal! Her website is really a nice showcase for her talent.
“Long
story short…I work full time in commercial real estate and have a 3 year old
but in my “spare time” I love to make cakes. I work with fondant only but there
is nothing that fondant can’t do really. I have never made the same cake twice
however. Which is really cool for me. In the past I
had a hard time charging people for my cakes. For one I didn’t feel confident
in my work and for two I honestly didn’t know how to compare the prices to what
since I am not a professional. Over the past 40 days I have a bible study at my
house once a week. Our goal was to reach out to our community and
help others in need and use God’s gifts and talents within our group. I decided
that I should use the ‘cake art’ talent to serve others. So I charge a flat fee
and used all the money towards 5 children we were lead to sponsor for Christmas
in Henry County. As of today we have raised a total of $575.00! We get to spend
$100 on each child! Not all of it was cake but it was a part of it. It is the
beginning of a cool thing!
A friend of
mine in Carrolton and I have been talking about helping children with our
cakes. Children in abused or neglected homes, foster care.. not sure yet where
the need is but kids who have never had a birthday party. Maybe once a month
make cakes for them. We don’t know details yet. But we want to start this in
Jan 09. So if you know some people who could use this service, which wouldn’t
cost them by the way. I would love to hear from you.”
PLEASE pass this along to anyone you think
might need or want one of Melissa’s fabulous cakes!
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I watched the entire episode of 20/20
tonight about adopted kids. It wasn’t as bad as I had feared, but they said a
number of things I found misleading, like their comment that most adopted kids
have RAD. I just dont' think that's true. They also said 10-25% of all adoptions disrupt. I have never seen
that figure and I doubt it’s true. If it is true, I bet they are counting domestic adoptions as well as foreign. Overall, I still feel it was just a very negative piece. I sure hope the Russians don’t see it, and decide to
shut down all adoptions from their country.
I've had some challenges with my kids, but I have never thought for a moment about disrupting. I got the help we needed from a therapist, and read and studied and networked with others. Clearly the main family profiled needed to get into family therapy, and not just ship their child off to boarding school, IMHO.
I know there is a lot of controversy about this show, but I still don't feel like it sent the right message. What they should have emphasized was how parents can be prepared, and how to change a bad to a good outcome when there's a tough adoption. Resources and information should rule, not sensationalism.
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