Olympic Torch Relay (Day 50) - Krasnoyarsk

I won't even mention how long its been...

With the Olympics in Russia this year, I've been thinking about our adoption of Andrei.  We were told by our coordinator that because Andrei had Asian features and dark skin that the chances of a Russian couple ever adopting him was slim to none.  In fact, 30% of the children in Russian orphanages have Asian features, and foreigners are their only hope of finding a family.  And now that Russia has removed Americans from that equation with its ban of Americans adopting Russian children, I just think of the 100s of kids that "look like Andrei" who will spend their days in these overcrowded understaffed orphanages.  We were told that the babies stay in the hospitals until there is a made available space in the orphanages to move them over--space provided by a child being adopted.  With Americans unable to adopt, and the fact that America accounted for a thousand of those children being adopted in 2011, I cannot imagine what a backlog of overcrowding conditions that must amass as a result.  I sincerely pray that the other welcomed countries will step up their adoption efforts and fill the void.  We have a happy, unbelievably smart little boy that was provided for us through this Russian system. So many kids like Andrei will remain lost in that dismal existence. Please keep these children in your prayers! I also can't help but think about all the Russian coordinators, drivers, translators that have been without a job (not to mention agencies in the US).

On a more positive note...We have completed our last post placement report! Yeah! We were refunded our $1000 deposit for submitting all four reports on time. That's a nice reward! With regards to adoption, we keep the adoption talk going in our house.  Andrei knows that he is from Russia.  He will tell that to you if you ask him.  He knows that we got on a plane and picked him up in Russia and he knows he cried all the way home to the US on the plane.  With my sister-in-law recently being pregnant, the girls were asking about their births.  Andrei knows that he was not in my tummy but another mom's tummy and "she took me to the hospital."  I'm sure it's a bit surreal for his little mind to firmly grasp, and I need to get going on that Lifebook this year for him.  A Lifebook is a book for him and his emotions, his experiences of his life basically before we became a family. It's very personal to him--not our experiences or emotions, but his.  From what I've read, it is instrumental in helping adoptive kids understand their adoption. 

We also enlisted the help of a lawyer and attended court to apply for his Texas birth certificate in December.  Having a Texas birth certificate will make life so much easier.  There's nothing like having the only original Russian birth certificate in your possession and knowing that if you lose it, you get to hop on a plane to Moscow or Krasnoyarsk and get another one.  So many states simply have a form for you to fill out and give to the district clerk and for the low, low price of $40 you get a state birth certificate.  Texas does not  have a simple form for you to fill out; I suppose you could represent yourself in court, but after days and days of research of trying to figure out what forms and how to fill them out, I gave up.  We hired legal representation.  So, we're done with all the "adoption" stuff with the exception of getting Andrei a US Passport.  We'll do that at some point in the future.  That will require a bit of a nail biter because you have to send in to our extremely efficient US government the only original copies of the stuff the US Embassy gave you and said, "Don't ever lose these papers".  Yikes!

Here is a video of the Olympic Torch in Krasnoyarsk, the city where we picked up Andrei! It looks as cold as it was when we were there.  Doug and I were going, "Hey, I remember that!"


Andrei is now four! In a few days we will celebrate his 3 year Gotcha Day.  The girls are already planning a little party with cake to celebrate.  He's so bright.  We thought he might be color blind because for a year everything was the color green.  One day he woke up and said, "Mom, that's red.  That's blue." Literally overnight he learned the color wheel! He knows his ABCs, can count to ten, and can now jump with both feet off the floor. He loves guns, trucks, and the Disney Cars--and in any given order on any given day.  He loves playing in the dirt and helping Dad.  "We boys!" he is always telling me.  He is every bit the child I thought he would be when we first talked about adoption so many years ago.  He's become my buddy during the day, and I'm already not looking forward to him going to school. (2 years down the road but still....)

Man Day

"Today is Monday.  It's Man-Day.  Man can't get in trouble on Man-Day."  That's what my husband told me the other morning. 

Oh Honey, you crack me up! Seriously!

Andrei STILL doesn't fuss in his new big kid bed. He gets up only with his new alarm clock.  I paid $30 for a stop light toddler alarm that switches from red to green when it's time to get up.  He's NEVER gotten out of bed once without the light being on green.  He's amazing. Simply amazing.

It's a heavy reminder of his early months of orphanage training. Most of the time I had to watch him on the video monitor to know if he were up when he was still in his crib.  Before we transitioned him to his new bed, he started playing "Rock, Paper, Scissors" in his bed.  One morning I heard this beating on his mattress and him yelling, "Ock, Paypa, Oh NOOOOOOO!" (Obviously he lost with himself.) "Ock. Paypa. Sicks!  Ock. Paypa. Sicks! Ock. Paypa. Oh Nooooo!" (Lost again.)  He was having a grand time all by himself.  This morning, he was singing one of our family's favorite songs, Jason Gray's "Remind Me Who I Am". "Mind me whoooo I am, whoooo I am..." and he just be-bops on the mattress.  Oh yes, the boy's got moves at his age!  Doug's so excited to think that he might clap on the down beats.  I don't understand that, but apparently it's a big deal in the music world.  Doug's always making fun of me because I obviously clap on the upbeats (along with 90% of everyone else I'm standing with but I guess we're ALL wrong!!!)

He has become increasingly bossy--Really, really bossy. (Andrei, not Doug.  I realize that I didn't identify my pronoun very well.  Sorry about the linguistic faux paus.)   I didn't think any kid could get any bossier than Annsley was, but I was terribly wrong.  And any phlegmatic personality that gets near him just hangs his head and does whatever Andrei tells him to do.  (Phlegmatics are easy going, loves to please people, etc.)  I'm in awe at how these people just let him order them around.  He's three and OWNS them....

We're working on social skills big time.  "Mom, get my my sippy cup now!"  "Mom, I need taggy."  Mom, find my socks."  "Mom, you go to bed."  And most of the time he says these things with an ever so slight scowl.   

He used to be a very polite toddler who always said please and thank you without any prompting.  He's ditched those words from his vocabulary and has commenced to just ordering everyone around. I guess because the weak people do whatever he tells them to.  His momma isn't one of the weak ones.  His daddy may be, but not his momma. 

He wears his boots with his shorts.  Every day.  Everywhere, including church. Without socks.  His feet reek. But he LOVES these boots. And tow trucks. And his rubber band rifle which he has been known to sleep with.

First night in his big kid bed.  We just moved the top bunk bed from Kennedi's room and had built in safety rails!

The boots.

 

Potty Training:Take 2

We're on Day 3 of Potty Training.  It would do me good to have a margarita at breakfast--actually I could use one when my alarm goes off.  A margarita fairy!  Just like the tooth fairy only this fair maiden gives you the power to potty train your 3 year old BOY.  She'd deliver another about 10:00 AM, noon, 2:00, 5:00 Happy Hour (and by now it's really, really happy), and then 8:00 to sooth the pee out of your mind while you wipe it off your shoes.  You could go to bed and have a dream without urine in it. 

Is it wrong that I'm thinking about a tequila IV belted to my hip???

My boy is sooooo different to train than my girls.  They got "it" on Day 1, and they had only one accident between the both of them.  It was fun.

 Sort of--in a potty training sort of way...

 But they both really got into drinking a ton of special juice (which provided lots of practice); flushing the toilet was a big, big deal.  And they couldn't wait to wash their hands.  Two Skittles was simply a just reward for a job well done--icing on the cake--if you will. 

As you can tell from my first sentence, we've made it considerably farther than we did 6 months ago.  If you are just joining this most ambitious and entertaining blog, you can read that post HERE.

In all reality, he's doing quite well by his own standards.  If you go by our experience 6 months ago, I could go on tour as a potty training phenomenon. 

But by a potty training girl's experience, we're way behind the 8 ball.  Way behind. 

Day One:  We started off by watching Potty Power again.  This time Andrei was thrusting his little fist in the air and shouting "Potty Power!" with the kids on the DVD.
 
"That's progress," I'm thinking.  "This time it's going to be a breeze." 

I gave him straight grape juice (which is something he never gets) to drink and a new cup to drink it out of.  He loved the cup--not the juice.  "Water," he requests after drinking about 2 oz. of Welch's deliciousness. 

"OK, fine," I think, "but you're going to drink the fire out of the water so we can practice, practice, practice." 

We practice sitting on the potty seat.  By the way, this new potty chair I bought is CRAP!  Clearly the designer did not have a penis nor did he/she have a son.  If he/she had either of the before mentioned, he would know that this wimpy urine deflector in no way shape or form deflects anything shooting out of a toddler's penis.

Yes, I said the "P" word.  I've said it a lot lately.  Forgive me. 

Anyway, he sits on the Pourty potty seat, stays for no more than 5 seconds, and says, "Finished!!"  He's done nothing.  I try to coax him to sit back down.  "Don't make it a power struggle," I keep repeating to myself.  He pulls up his underwear (I have to keep correcting myself as I call them panties--much to my husband's dismay), and I plead with him that TowMater will be sad if he gets wet. 

Yes, I'm bribing my child with the possible guilt he will wear should any of the Cars cast members become rained with 3 year old urine. 

One hour later Andrei tells me that TowMater is sad. 

Yeah, accident #1.  10 minutes later, Lighting McQueen is sad too.  Off to the car wash they go! 

Finally, we meet success with attempt #3. But you've got to be fast.  When the boy looks at you and says, "I gotta go," he's got about 2 seconds of holding power in him. 

We started carrying the potty chair with us wherever we go in the house. 

When his daddy got home from school, I announce that Andrei has not done any pooping business all day long.  Ah, the Lone Ranger is at last home.  "Come with me, Andrei.  We'll go do business together."  And he and Andrei and the purple Pourty potty chair head to our bathroom. 

Five minutes later they emerge with Andrei carrying his potty seat and Doug is on his cell phone.  Really? You can't be double minded when you are potty training, my Dear!  Andrei tells me that TowMater is sad.

I take off his underwear; Doug sees me and says, "What are you doing?  He peed in the potty chair." 
Well, Deary, he either didn't shake the dew off his lily or he's not finished, because Tow Mater's left fender is wet. 

Doug shrugs and continues talking.  Big huge help.  Two minutes later, Niagara Falls hits our new floors. 

Before he goes to bed, I have him sit on the potty chair again.  All of a sudden I hear my two daughters in a knock down drag out fight in Kennedi's room.  I go to referee. 

Bad mistake.

Andrei shows up carrying his potty chair.  "Mommy, I tee-teed!!" he says. "Are you proud of me???"

Yes, but there is no urine in the potty chair.  Where'd it go? He's decided to dump it in the toilet himself.  Do you know the dexterity a three year must have to dump urine from a funny looking potty chair and hit the hole of the big toilet? 

Yeah, a lot. 

Andrei doesn't have that much.

When my alarm goes off the next morning, Doug asks me, "So, are you ready for Day 2?????" and he laughs.

Day 2 starts off with a temper tantrum on the potty chair.  Andrei is mad because I won't give him his Tag while he is sitting on the potty chair. No way on a day like today am I going to have him screaming for 2 hours while I wash and dry Tag as a result of urine that doesn't get caught on this almighty urine deflector.  I'm sitting on the floor in front of him while this temper tantrum of epic proportions ensues, and before I know it, I'm being sprayed with urine from this rogue penis poking out of this potty chair that is not built for boys. 

Day 3 starts off with a screaming child when I take him to the potty chair as soon as he wakes up.  "I'm hungry! I want oatmeal!" Big tears are running down his face and he is getting mad all over again.  This time I take action. 

"Andrei, what does Daniel Tiger say to do the first thing when you wake up?" (The boy LOVES Daniel Tiger; it's take off Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.)

"Go to the bathroom," he sobs. 

"Andrei, what do you think Kennedi does the first thing when she wakes up?" 

"Go potty."
"What do you think Annsley does as soon as she wakes up?"
"Go potty."
"What does Grandpa do as soon as he wakes up?"
"If he's upstairs, he goes to the potty." (Apparently, Grandpa holds it if he wakes up on the first floor...)

By now he's quit crying, and what do you know, a TON of pee is in the potty chair. 

He's getting the jist of this whole potty thing, I think.  He's actually had a bowel movement in the chair.  That got him 5 Skittles.  I'll pay 10 if I don't have to clean THAT mess out of underwear any day.  He's probably 50-50 on making it to the potty chair right now.  We'll see what Day 4 brings...in the mean time, enjoy Jimmy Buffet and Alan Jackson.  Drop any judgements you may have about my margarita obsession and simply smile in the fact that poop and pee and TowMater getting showered with urine are not the center of YOUR 44 year old universe today!

Snowstorm Rocky, a Birthday, and Wine

Come on, I know you're trying to decide whether to click on Boy George or not...Go ahead and do it...Get it over with...

It's been a crazy, busy last 10 days.  Our little man turned three!  I flew to San Antonio to visit my sister.  We've entertained the 2nd worst blizzard snowstorm (Rocky) in our Panhandle history--or US history (I make that statement of 2nd hand knowledge told to me by my husband...)--the most dumped in a 12 hour period or something like that--So I've been told anyway. I'm not sure how much we got--17-18" inches?? maybe more??  (You know you're in the big time when the Weather Channel talks about you! LOL  I had no idea that they named winter storms now...)

We're currently on our 2nd snow day of cancelled school.  We have good 4 foot drifts in our yard thanks to the 50 mph winds during the snow dumping of 2013.  Thankfully we only lost our electricity for about an hour.  It was the first time our girls have been through the despair of not having Thomas Edison's invention at their beckon call. 
"Oh Momma! It's a great day to watch movies all day."  Sorry, can't do that.  "How about some hot chocolate?"  How about some cold chocolate?  "Can we play our DS's?" Not if they are not already charged... It was a sobering reality for them. 

This morning the three little ones and the one big one are venturing out to make a snowman family.  We have enough to build the Duggars.

My weekend in San Antonio was met with wonderful 70-75 degree weather.  We hit the vineyards for some wine tasting on Friday.  Contrary to what you may be thinking, it was very, very educational. Really.  I found out that port is nasty--no matter who makes it.  I verified what I had already known--that I don't like red wine.  I stayed in the white sweet wines.  Reisling is very very tasty.  I can also see why one might require the service of a limo after visiting south Texas's wine country. Had we ventured to a third winery, we might have needed a limo ourselves. My sister tells me it's the #2 wine country in the USA.  We ate at the Pink Pig and then ventured into Fredricksburg for some over priced shopping. 

All was well until my sister forced me to listen to her Culture Club CD on the way home.   Kristin has always been a European music band junkie.  She was a card carrying member of Duran Duran (who knows..she might secretly still be one...).  Listening to Boy George took me back to my freshman year in high school.  Unfortunately, I still remembered the words and probably sang out of tune to Karma Chameleon on the way home.  She says she draws the line at Elton John, but I figure if she likes Wham! she's got to be a closet Elton fan as well.  (Please click on the above video for stirring 80s music flashblack for all you 40 year olds!)

Here are some pictures of Andrei's birthday party and our snow storm. 

Yes, parts of our yard are bare of snow.





Wanting to have nothing to do wit blowing out his candles.

Enjoying his cake!

Boy Toy Intervention

Andrei has lots of boy toys thanks to the Christmas explosion he received.  It's a good thing, too.  He was getting a bit girly-fied.  (Is that a word??) One of the things he got was a Step 2 Work Bench.  We have the Step 2 Kitchen, and he has used it plenty to cook.  The work bench is very similar to the girls' kitchen.  He was sick Christmas morning when Doug put it together, and then we left for the mountains for a few days, and then we were busy looking for a new car (another story for another time), so we hadn't had a lot of time to show him how to play with it. 

I decided Monday after the girls went back to school that I'd show him how to use it.  The intervention couldn't have come too soon. 

As I was showing him how to work his new drill, he opens the pull down door at the bottom of the work bench.  "Oh, no! My screws are burning in the oven!" 

I cringe.  Yes, the pull down drawer is exactly like the oven door on the kitchen, but it's not the kitchen.  "Andrei, this is not an oven.  This is a..." (I'm searching for manly words to call this thing and the best I can come up with is drawer.  Weak I know. Where is his father when I need him??) "It's a drawer for your tools.  See?" and I put his wrench in there. 

Not two seconds later he says, "Mom, here's my frigerator!" and he opens the door gleefully.

Good grief.  Seriously. 

The work bench has a door just like the refrigerator on the kitchen except this one has a sticker that makes it looks like metal. 

"Andrei, that's not a refrigerator.  That is a... (again searching for manly words...) tool cabinet."

He's unimpressed.  He shrugs his shoulders and goes back to stripping the screws with his motorized drill.

He loves trucks, trains, tools, and spitting.  He's manly man-- sort of--with a softer side--every girl's dream! He certainly will be comfortable with a vacuum. 

(I'd show you a picture, but Blogger is having some sort of difficulties with uploading certain photos.  Maybe later!)

Needing: Boy Toys

I have been acutely aware over the last few months that we are needing some honest to goodness boy toys around here.  Andrei is constantly remaking one of the girls old toys into something that roars, cuts, or creates a noise that it was not expressly designed.  Here is his latest "conversion."  He takes the dust buster part of Kennedi's play vacuum and reinvents it as a saw.  Pathetic I know.

You need a serious face to do this kind of work.  Pants might come in  handy as well. 

Cutting down the ficus tree.

 Their Momma Carol got them these awesome tracks.  Hot Wheels, a little space, and no batteries.  Andrei loves getting them out. 

And doesn't my 90s couch look awesome with my 90s purple carpet??!! I knew from the beginning that this house was destined for us! LOL

So, my question for you with boys, what are some great boy toys for a little boy nearing the 3 year old mark? 

(And yes, my boy is shaggy in these photos.  He needs a haircut constantly.  I've never seen hair grow like his.  The good part is we've found a barber here in our little town.  He's a grandpa, is open on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays and charges $10 a haircut.  Whoo Hoo!)

Diary of a Potty Trainer

Yesterday morning began with this:

Yes, big boy underwear (Cars)--I have hard time not calling them panties which highly annoys my husband, a new potty chair which got rave reviews from parents on Amazon, 7-UP and juice for "Peach Fizzies" so the child will drink and drink and drink and get lots of practice, Skittles for rewards, and Potty Power DVD for education.

Our morning didn't get started until 9:30 because I just had to wait until he pooped in the next to last diaper we had in the house.  I was not going to start potty training and have to clean THAT mess up on day 1. 

9:35~Started Potty Power.  (If you haven't seen it, it is really well done.  Annsley LOVED it.  She requested it all the time.  She'd run around the house with her little fist thrust into the air yelling "Potty Power!" 

10:00~Potty Power is over.  I just know my brain child boy is digesting the information he has just heard.  I take him to the table to look at the array of goodies awaiting him.  He chooses his first pair of underwear to put on.  He wants to try out his potty chair.  Good.  We'll go do it.

10:05~He sits on the potty chair.  Chats up a storm about potty.  I say, "You're such a big boy."  He says, "No, Baby."  Not what I was going for. 45 seconds later he wants to pull up his underwear. 

10:06~Begin cleaning up the mess from the 7-UP that bubbled out of his sippy cup.  I forgot about the "effervescence" since my kids hardly drink anything but water and milk.  I hand Andrei his new drink and have him try it.  I am proud.  The girls loved downing their full strength juice mixed with 7-UP.  Andrei takes one sip and says, "Milk. Nasty!"  It's going to be a long morning.

10:15~We head to the potty for our first real training on the seat.  He sits.  Nothing.  3 minutes and he's finished.  We head back to the living room for some more drink.  He finally sucks down his first Peach Fizz drink.  Now I wait.  I ask him if he wants to watch Potty Power again.  For reinforcement.  He says no. 

10:16~ Accident #1.  No Skittles.  Sorry.  You have to tee-tee in the potty chair. 

10:18~Sippy cup #2 started. 

10:30~Back to the potty chair for a try.  Nothing.  He prefers try out different sitting positions.  I am concerned because unless he is sitting straight ahead, there is going to be a mess all over the floor.  I grab some books to divert his attention forward.

10:31~Reading books encourages him to lean all the way forward to get a good view.  Now his hiney is shining in the air. 

10:33~Head back to living room.  Drink some more. 

10:34~Accident #2 but this time we rush to the bathroom and sit on the potty chair.  He manages to dribble out a teaspoon into the chair.  I call that a success.  2 Skittles coming up. 

10:40~More drink. 

10:55~I make the decision to move the potty chair to the living room.  We'll just stay contained in one area. 

10:56~He wants to sit on the potty.  He sits.  He spins.  Now the potty chair is on carpet--our lovely purple carpet.  Hmm.... Finally he reaches success, but there are dribbles all down the side of the potty chair.  Yikes! We are needing a high sided, front and back potty chair. More Skittles handed out. 

11:01~More drink offered but he refuses.  I decide to bring out the picnic water repellent sheet and put the potty chair on it.  I offer to turn on Word World and he can sit on the potty chair and watch.  I'm hoping that might make him sit still should the urge arise. 

11:30 Word World over.  Barney is coming up.  I hate Barney. 

11:45~Success again.  This time alot of urine is in the potty chair.  And there is some outside of the potty chair as well.  Another round of Skittles. 

12:00~Now he is wanting a drink but I hold off.  Nap time is coming and I will put him in a Pull Up and they are not very absorbent. 

12:45~I ask him if he wants to go potty.  He says no.  We try anyway.  Nothing. I know he needs to go as it has been nearly an hour and he's had a lot to drink this morning. I take two Skittles from the package and put them on the fireplace.  Maybe he needs to actually see the reward.  "These are for you when you tee-tee."  Mine? he asks.  Yes--when you tee-tee. 

12:47~He wants to get up.  No Skittles. We head to his room for nap. I absent mindedly pop the two Skittles on the fireplace in my mouth.  He frowns. "My Skittles." 

12:55~Pull-Up (aka Nap Underwear) is on.  I'm exhausted. 

2:45~He has filled his Pull-Up to the brim. 

2:46~I quit.  We'll try again in a few months.  He's about as interested in it as a dead salamander.  It was so much easier with my girls.  Kennedi had zero accidents on day one.  Annsley had only one and then never again.  I'll wait until he's closer to 3. 

3:05~We head to Family Dollar to buy diapers. 

Adjustments

We've moved.  We're still among boxes, but every day we can see more and more of our glorious amethyst colored carpet.

I looked out our backyard with our brand spanking new cedar fence and saw my Saran wrap all over the yard.  Tiger Lily managed to get a hold of it and unrolled 195 feet of the 200 on the roll.  Doug saw her do it.  He just watched.  "She was just having a good time, Mom.  She was running around the yard with the plastic wrap flying in the wind behind her," he said.  I was not amused.  Plastic wrap might be something I need desperately in the middle of my unpacking.  Now that days have passed, I wished I had gotten a picture of it. 

Tiger Lily and Mickey (our cat) are both adjusting to life in the "city".  Tiger Lily about came through the window the other morning when the garbage truck came down the alley.  Mickey spent 3 days under Annsley's bed--refusing to go outside.  I finally kicked him out two days ago.  Gotta toughen up some time Fur Ball.  He spends his days hiding under the backyard shed.  I think he slinks out early evening and explores.  At least the neighborhood dogs barking don't send him into cardiac arrest anymore. 

Andrei's new word is "nasty."  I'm not sure where he picked it up other than he overheard me say that the house was nasty.  It had been empty for 3 years.  Nasty doesn't begin to describe it.  It has literally been cleaned, dusted, vacuumed, fumigated from the top down.  I was given a wonderful gift of having someone come clean my windows for me.  Thank you Momma Carol!! I asked the guy if we would be nominated for America's Dirtiest Windows.  He said he'd seen much worse.  I hope I never see what "much worse" is.  Anyway, I served Andrei scrambled eggs the other morning.  He took one bite, pushed his plate away, and said, "Nasty." 

I was not amused.  (He got no brownie points for using correct context either.)

For lots of reasons, we decided to put the girls in public school this year.  Monday was their first day.  I will post pictures, but I first must find (a) my camera and (b) the cord to download the pix.  We were all sad, but the girls did absolutely awesome and have wonderful teachers.  I know their classrooms will be blessed.  Andrei kept asking, "Where are the gools?" 

"Do you miss Kennedi?" I asked him.  He said, "I miss Ken....I miss Annie." 

I have been amazed at how grown up he is when they are not around.  He is obedient.  He is pleasant.  He talks like a big boy.  The moment Kennedi walked into the house on day 1 he started baby talking again and whining.

Again, I was not amused.  Seems to be a theme these days.  I've been too tired to have much amusement.  There are trains that go through our town.  LOTS OF TRAINS.  I can usually sleep through them until the 4:00 am bunch rolls through.  There are usually 3-4 trains going through town then.  I know I will eventually not even notice them, but dang! it is brutal until then.  Those who lived closer to them tell me they rattle the house.  No rattling where we live, but it is LOUD!  

I've noticed Sanford's theme song is still going strong.  I'll get it off one of these days so you can read in peace...

Picture Post!

I'm back from the dead.  Maybe. 

A quick picture post of some of my favorite people:

Yes, I stacked it all by myself!



Unfortunately for her, disco has had its day.



My little 'uns made themselves a train.  Notice the caboose is not as happy as the rest.  And such is a 2 year old's life...

It has been crazy, busy around here.  Softball, VBS, end of school...more about our comings and goings with that as soon as my tongue quits hanging out of my mouth.

Boy Toys!

My girls never, I repeat, NEVER played with trucks and cars.  And most certainly, if by slim chance a girl did pick up said vehicle, it did NOT come accompanied with "GRRRRRR!"

The Full Wrapper

Since it is not the custom in Easter Europe to circumcise, we, of course, brought home a little boy with 'a chocolate kiss with a full wrapper,' to quote his father.I have no idea where Doug came up with that, but nevertheless, he has referred to his uncircumcised body part as a full wrapper for the last year.

We had been debating on whether to have him circumcised for nearly a year after asking our pediatrician about it upon bringing him home. She said he'd have to be two before anything was done about it anyway, so we've had a year to debate both sides.  I don't know if that is just her philosophy or the urologist's or what to delay the possibility until he was two, but I had decided that I'd defer to Doug on that decision as I don't have that part on my body.  Doug visited with several of his friends who had to have a circ later in life for various health related reasons.  I didn't visit with them myself, but I can say I don't think that could have been very fun.  I just kept thinking about Abraham and a big, sharp rock. We live in a part of the country where circumcism is the norm still, and after discussing the pros and cons with our pediatrician at his 2 year check up, Doug opted for it and scheduled the consult with the referred urologist. 

Our urologist is a character to say the least.  He's highly recommended by our pediatrician, and I've heard wonderful things about him through others.  He's an older guy with a sense of humor, and quite frankly, I seem to like older doctors better.  They are so much more laid back.  They've seen it all. We were sitting in his office earlier in the week discussing the surgery.  He was telling us that Andrei would be under anesthesia...they'd put a little mask on him, and after about 4 breaths Andrei would be out.  When he said that, this urologist makes a whistling noise and with his hand bangs it down on his desk like a tree being chopped.  Then he says, "And the anesthesiologist and I make sure we don't get too close to the mask or we'll..." and he makes the whistling noise and drops his hand to the desk again. 

He then asks if we have any more questions.  We don't, and then he says giddily, "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"  I'm thinking, for whom?? He takes us up front to his receptionist and is giving her the details of our surgery appointment.  He turns around and as he passes by me, he pats me on the shoulder, and says, "Oh this is going to be fun! So fun!"  At least we know that he seems to enjoy his life's work...

We were at the day surgery Friday morning at 6:00.  I got Andrei dressed in his manly peach colored hospital gown and pants.  He hated his pants for some reason.  He kept pulling them at his ankles and repeating, "Ahhh, Ahhh" (Off, off).  I, too, agreed with his sentiments about the peach color.  Really, it's a color that only looks good on a peach.

Long story short, he did great and has continued to do so. We were on our way home within 1 hour of his surgery.  Other than Kennedi skipping around the house singing, "Andrei, I'm sorry your pee-pee hurts," we're pretty much back to normal around here. We're just thanking God for His supernatural speed in healing!

The Whoop Whoop Song!

We've been studying bats around our house.  Really, I had no idea the vermin were such productive members of society.  One of the things we've been studying is echolocation--how bats locate insects to eat or how they avoid ramming their little bitty bat eyes into a tree.  I found a great Jump Start video on YouTube that the girls could sing along.  Andrei has picked up on it, and now any time he hears something on the computer, he looks at me, raises his little arms, and asks, "Whoop? Whoop?" The boy loves music!  I think he gets his dance moves from his daddy.  I won't elaborate. 

Gotcha Day Celebration

Yesterday, February 26, was Andrei's "Gotcha Day."  I had been thinking about how we would celebrate this every year as I wanted to start some traditions to culminate that special day in his life.  I opted for a Russian din-din and a giant cupcake.  However, much like the disaster it was trying to leave the orphanage with Andrei a year ago, our celebratory "Gotcha Day" ended up with a mess a well.  (Feel free to recap our experience HERE.)

Andrei was on day #2 of running 102 degree fever.  Kennedi was on day #1 running a fever.  Doug had been out of town and wouldn't be back until evening.  So, I did the unthinkable--at least for me.  I used a box cake AND..... icing from a can!!! (I justified it by saying Annsley and Kennedi could make his cake for Andrei this way. Also, I knew it would not taste very good and that would keep me from eating it.)

I know.  I KNOW!! I hold my head in shame to all the bakers out there. 

I had bought one of those Wilton giant cupcake pans earlier in the year.  We made the giant cupcake, and after it cooled, we set out to ice it.  Trying to capitalize on our Russian theme, I had planned for a white cake, red icing, and blue sprinkles (the colors of the Russian flag.)  I bought strawberry icing, but no matter how much red I added, it just turned brighter pink and ended up closely resembling the sunburned gum paste pig from the birthday party.  I usually use the "professional" icing dyes, but I was out of red.  The liquid stuff doesn't quite cut the mustard. 

So now our Russian theme is starting to look like a drunken 70s disco tech.  I gave Annsley a knife and said go for it.  I didn't even bother with the piping bags.  I forgot that I was making a cupcake, and Annsley and I iced the bottom of the cupcake. (Yes, those ridges...should have been my first "uh-oh" but I didn't catch on until the job was finished.)  We're both looking at a hot pink giant cupcake that resembles more of a hot pink short, fat stubby pencil standing on its end.  It is the ugliest and most pathetic baking phenomen that's ever come from my kitchen--EVER.  And that is going all the way back to those 6th grade brownies I made once.  Annsley sprinkles some edible blue glitter in an effort to "pretty it up." 

We stick a candle on top for "Gotcha Day #1." 

I make beef stroganoff.  I actually can do that quite well, but yesterday's did not come out right.  I think it is my worst stroganoff to date.  Not sure even today what went wrong. 

Then I set out to make Russian potato pancakes--or Bulgarian or Jewish. I was not interested in making borscht as beets and I are about as tight as a tom cat and a veterinarian with a coupon for 50% off all neutering services!  I grated my Russet potatoes.  The recipe said to them grind them after that.  I figured that as old as a country Russia is that the babushkas 300 years ago didn't have a food processor to use, and so I took the liberty and decided that these little old ladies probably stopped at the grating process as well.  I made about 12 little nasty potato pancakes and put them in the freezer to set up.  I had read somewhere to do that to keep them from falling apart when you fry them.

Well, they froze to the plate.  No, I didn't put wax paper down first.  So, now my grease is hot (and this is the first time I've fried something in my kitchen in probably 12 years by the way...) and I'm using my spatula to try to pry these little boogers off the plate.  In short, they came out OK.  The girls and Doug thought they were delicioso!  I don't care if they ever grace my presence again.  I like my potato without egg, thank you!  We did dip them in sour cream--a Russian staple. 

Andrei was exhausted, and didn't eat his Russian meal.  We lit the candle for him to blow out and the girls sang "Happy Gotcha Day" to the birthday song.  After blowing out 2 candles on his birthday, this single candle was child's play for him, and with merely a puff he extinguishes the flame atop the house that Papa Smurf built. (ie: giant cupcake that the mother iced the bottom with store bought icing). 

Andrei goes off for a bath (he hasn't napped in 72 hours and he was still up in his bed the night before at 10:00pm when I went to bed) The big people are left to "devour the cake" as Annsley said.  Doug (who had been out of town and missed the afternoon baking slacker event) says to me, "Oh man! This is awesome!! What kind of cake did you make?" 

He's serious.  How do you respond to someone who prefers a cake with 1/3 cup vegetable oil and water and icing made with corn syrup?  I choose instead to think that he was just hungry.  Very hungry. 

So, Gotcha Day #1 is in the history books.  I find it quite fascinating that yesterday was in very much a mirror of challenges and faux paus just like it was in Russia a year ago.  And as I'm typing this, I'm realizing that it was really "Gotcha Day #2"--not #1.  We needed 2 candles. 

I was severely disappointed before the evening was up.  UGGGGH!  I had really planned on a much different turn out on so many levels.  We'll get it right next year.  Maybe.  The important thing is we are celebrating this amazing little boy coming into our family. 

And, if you're up to looking at ugly....here's the cupcake ( a term I use very, very, very loosely here)...I struggled whether to expose it publicly, so don't say you haven't been warned!!

You can see Kennedi's little fingers have swiped some of the icing.  I'm still trying to decide if that didn't actually help out the looks of Pap Smurf's home!

Growing Boy!

Andrei had his 2 year well visit Monday morning.  He's now 35" tall and 29.7 pounds.  He's jumped from the 25% in weight to the 75% and has moved from the 50% in height to the 75%!  I think he's gonna be a big un! His head is still small; probably always will be our pediatrician said, but she wasn't concerned about it.  He was on track with all the developmental questions.  Yea!

I got out the girls' baby books to compare, and he's 2 inches taller and 5 pounds heavier than Annsley was at 2; he's only an inch behind Kennedi but weighs 3 pounds more than she did.  Not bad for a boy who got his start in a Russian orphanage! We are fixing to have to move to size 5 diapers as we're experiencing blow-outs and lots of leaks lately.  I've never bought size 5 diapers.  My girls were potty trained while still in 4s.  There are not as many diapers in a size 5 box.  A LOT less in fact.  Potty training is looming on the horizon--I can just feel it!

I made a short video of Andrei's year with us and put it up on our adoption blog.  Click HERE to check it out!

Look Who's Two!!

Our little Russian blessing turned two Sunday!! We had his birthday party on Saturday, and in honor of our Siberian Birthday Boy, snow fell the morning of his party. Since we had gotten the girls their own "highchair" cake for their first birthdays, I was leaning towards doing the same for Andrei.  A one year old maybe...maybe....eats a few bites or licks his fingers.  I have been able to watch Andrei with cake before, and that boy can put it away.  He's like his momma.  Birthday Cake or bust!  So, picturing Andrei devouring the ENTIRE little cake, me not thinking that is the best thing for his little body, listening to him scream when I take it away after he eats half of it, and then having to endure all the grandmas sympathizing with my screaming toddler, I opted for cupcakes instead.  As I predicted, he scarfed it down in nothing flat. 

2 Year Old Barnyard Bash! Thank You Fisher Price Farm Set for your support in this endeavor!



My attempt at Gum Paste animals...In case you can't decipher my little critters, you're looking at a pig who forgot the sunscreen, a cow in need of a stair stepper, and a slightly gene damaged sheep.



After 1001 pictures, give it a rest!!

Trying to light his own candles.

And yes, he did blow them out all on his own!!

Not bad.  Not bad at all...

60 seconds later, it's all gone!

The Party Goers

Gift Aftermath!

Baby House #1

Last week a member of the Kras Yahoo group sent out a request of any who had adopted out of baby house #3.  He was trying to find others who had adopted about the same time and hopefully within their son's orphanage group.  There are approximately 100-150 children in each baby house, but they are grouped together in groups of 15 or so, and they stay within that group their entire tenure there.  Andrei was from the apple group--not their son's group.  We exchanged a few pictures, and I noticed that our children were not from the same orphanage either despite thinking we both were from baby house #3.  We had actually stopped at this orphanage to do paperwork, but then we traveled on to Andrei's orphanage. 

So, we started investigating. How could we both have #3?  There was another mom who had answered the request, and her daughter was from Andrei's orphanage AND was in his groupa!  Even though she brought home her sweet daughter 6 months after we did, she and Andrei would have been in the room together at some point.  So, I think that is pretty awesome that we can show him pictures later of one of his "groupies." 

The dad sent me a link with all the Krasnoyarsk orphanages listed on it.  There were two #3 Baby Houses listed there.  One was the orphanage where we had all been in to do paperwork (the actually orphanage was housed on the 2nd floor of that particular building), and another was listed there with the title Special Baby House #3 for Children with Mental Defectives.  That title just saddened me so much. I don't know if I had ever mentioned this, but an American couple whom we met at the orphanage had told us that this orphanage we were adopting out of was half special needs and half non-special needs.  I assumed, using that information, that this had to be Andrei's orphanage.

I decided to try out Google Earth and see if I could tell if this really was Andrei's orphanage.  I pulled up the address and I couldn't recognize a thing.  Then, this other mother emailed me saying she thought our children's orphanage was actually Baby House #1 as she had the actually address of the home.  I remembered Lena, our translator, reading the emblem at the orphanage and telling us it was baby house #1, but there was a #3 at the bottom of the emblem, and I had just always assumed she had misspoken.  So, back to Google Earth in search of Baby House #1.  And what do you know! That one IS Andrei's orphanage!  Here's a snapshot of it:

I even recognized the pharmacy where our coordinator would stop for those simply smashing little blue booties we had to wear.  If you click on the picture, it will enlarge it.  You can vaguely see the wall around the orphanage property.  We entered from the street, would drive through the gate, drive around the east side of the orphanage, and park on the west.  You won't find a parking lot for the workers to park in.  They didn't have cars.  Most of them walked or took the bus. 

(We're still trying to clear up the confusion of #3 being on the emblems.  Jenn has an email to our translator to see if we can get an explanation.)

The emblem causing all the trouble!

Speech

(I know what you're thinking...so many posts!  You once a week checkin' in people have some serious catching up to do! :)  Remember, you're privileged to read a blog filled with exceptional education, gripping entertainment, AND delightful surprises! It about makes you want to walk around with your underwear handing out of your pants doesn't it?...I know....  Me too!)

Andrei's vocabulary has really taken off the last few weeks.  He's now calling me "Momma."  He calls Kennedi "Momma" too.  She doesn't correct him which irks me a bit.  I've been waiting for a long time for him to call me something besides "Daddy" and I don't want to share!  He's learning his animals.  He won't say the name of the animal, but he says their sounds.  I've always found that to be so funny with babies.  My girls would say the sounds the animals makes long before they named their names. 

He loves to read.  He always has.  We tend to read the same books around here time and time and time again.  I understand it is good for the little one's development of vocabulary.  We read the same thing over and over until I can't stand it any more, and then we move on to something else.  Right now we're on Good Night Moon.  It was a fav of my girls, and Andrei likes it too.  The girls loved looking for the little mouse when they got a bit older. I was concerned this winter about having the fireplace going with Andrei.  Doug lit it once, told him it was hot, and we haven't had a problem with him going near it.  For those of you not versed in Good Night Moon, it is a story about a little baby bunny who does not want to go to sleep and tells everything in his room good night.  Every other page is a duplicate picture of his room.  There is a fireplace in this picture with a roaring fire going.  So, every other page Andrei points to it and say, "Hot! Hot!"  Now he points to the Momma Bunny in the rocking chair and says, "Momma."  He points to the oatmeal looking stuff and say, "Eat! Eat!" 

Annsley had a gigantic vocabulary before she turned 2.  HUGE!  And she enunciated her words quite clearly.  Andrei's isn't nearly as clear, but he's only been listening to English for a year now.  However, compared to Kennedi, it's off the chart.  She used about 5 words only until she was 2 1/2.  I'm not kidding. He's WAY ahead of where she was.  She didn't want to talk.  I would try to get her to say a word.  She'd just smile.  I couldn't have bought a vowel if I had the money.  I can remember being so frustrated with her.  She didn't even try. When she was 15 months, we had her hearing checked to rule out that was the talking problem.  Hearing was OK.  It was her "wanna" that was in neutral. We had her tested at 3 for speech.  Her poor daddy just knew that she was fine and wouldn't need services.  I was thinking, "Are you serious??"  Of course she qualified--like in the bottom 3% qualified.  She W-A-A-A-Y qualified.  But she's a talking machine now.  Literally.  She will talk your ear off.  She has so much to say about everything.  And to everyone.  She knows not a stranger.   Not a single one.  She gets that from her father.  Has to.  It's not from me. 

You know the teenagers who stayed on the phone for hours and hours?  That wasn't me.  I hated talking on the phone.  I used the phone for a purpose.  Got my information and hung up.  I think I'm better now, but I am not one of these people who can talk to the same person every day.  My life isn't that exciting.  The closest I have ever come to having a daily phone conversation with the same person was when Annsley born and my sister was home with her son.  That was just to keep my from going out of my flippin' mind back then.  It was self preservation--not a social need.  I remember when school started back that year, and I wasn't teaching for the first time in 14 years.  I was sitting on the couch waiting for Annsley to wake up from her morning nap and watching Magnum PI reruns on tv and thinking, "This is what my life is going to be like from now on???!!!"

Now I wish I had a day like that.  (sigh)

We also had our post placement #2 visit recently.  It was such a blessing to talk to our social worker with respect to Andrei being a normal toddler.  With the exception of a few things, you'd never know that he came from an institution. He's a blossoming little guy! We are so blessed!

Milk Stand Off!

Andrei has been taking his "nearly 2 year old" wheels out for a spin lately.  At least I hope that is what it is.  His temper tantrums are mighty and lengthy--complete with foot stomping and throwing.  The last one was a few days ago--over 1 1/2 hours long.  I actually blogged about it, posted it, and then deleted it.  It was a sad diatrab of my morning, and I realized that noone really wanted to read all about those woes.  Just know he is a usually happy and obedient child, but when he gets a good mad going on it is a sight to behold. 

He's become very opinionated lately as well.  He has decided that he doesn't like milk.  Today I decided that I had had enough.  He would drink his milk.  And so the standoff began.  I handed him his milk and put him in his high chair.  He swallowed once and didn't want any more.  I fed him his oatmeal.  He wanted down.  I said, "Drink your milk."  He shook his head no.  "Drink your milk and you may get down."  He shook his head no. 

So over the course of the next hour and 45 minutes (no exaggeration) he played with his sippy cup, jabbered to himself, wailed to his sisters, cried, kicked, played with his sippy cup again, said "down", kicked, screamed, jabbered, etc.  Trust me, after about 20 minutes I was ready to let him down and "win", but I knew that since I had started this battle of the wills, I'd better win, or it might be tough goings around here pretty soon.  Battling with a 22 month old...interesting...anyway at approximately 10:10AM, he stuck his sippy cup in his mouth and drank all his milk in one swoop.  He looked at me, shook it to let me know it was empty, and said, "Down."

I have The Strong Willed Child by James Dobson on the bookcase...

Today marks the first time we met Andrei one year ago.  I posted a short video of that visit on our adoption blog.  Check it out when you have a chance!

Picture Post!

I'm cleaning out some 800 pictures off my memory stick, so here's a little show and tell about our comings and goings for the last few months.  Enjoy!



Andrei lovin' his first corn on the cob!




Andrei thinking he's big stuff getting a ride in the jeep!

  Scenes from the Tri State Fair:


Daisy the milk cow




Watching Daisy the milk cow get milked.




Kennedi helping out the lady from the Farm Bureau kids' show.



Annsley realizing that her daddy is about to beat her.  (Please note her father's gleeful face...so sad, so sad)

 Scenes from the Corn Fun Farm:

Navigating the ropes through the corn maze

Annsely on the zip line.

Doug re-living his ice slide in Krasnoyarsk...



Loving the slide through the "mountain"



Is it ever going to end???

Kennedi on the zip line.

Doug sporting some fine looking attire:

Free ride in the wheelbarrow with the guy in the wife beater t-shirt.  (Doug knows I HATE those shirts...What girl wants to look at arm pit hairs?? He hadn't worn one in about 18 years...cut this shirt up that day  I guess in a fit of rebellion..it has since made its way into my cleaning cabinet.)

Copy Cat!

Andrei is such a copy cat.  More so than even Kennedi was to Annsley, and I didn't think that could happen.  Unfortunately, he copies some negative behaviors which can often be a detriment to him. (There are certain things, Little Boy, that should not be copied!)  He'll learn.  Other times he's just pretty darn cute! 

I've always thought it was important that my children can play by themselves.  I firmly believe that it is a life skill that will help them.  So, when Annsley turned two, I put her in her room with the baby gate up and she had "toddler time" by herself in her room.  We started out with just 5 minutes, and slowly increased that time to 30 minutes that she was in there by herself.  To keep her from thinking it was punishment, I'd always give her a Goldfish cracker snack in her room and brought down "special toys" only available during toddler time.  Kennedi began the same thing when she turned two, and she still has "toddler time" although I really should change it to a different name now that she is 5.  She gets her snack (she chooses to use a play kitchen cup or bowl to hold her crackers) and  she heads off to spend some quiet time in her bedroom.  Andrei has been watching all this for a few months now, and a few weeks ago after Kennedi started her toddler time, he went to the kitchen bucket on his own, dug out a little plastic cup, and brought it to me with "aaaa" coming out of his mouth.  Too cute! And super smart I might add!!! So, I obliged, and now he daily comes to me when Kennedi gets her snack,  holding out a plastic cup he's scavenged from the play kitchen, and reaps his reward of Goldfish crackers.