Ethiopian Book Club

Way back when (it seems like forever), as our adoption agency was just crawling out of bankruptcy after a successful restructuring vote, 4 of us rather vocal BC'ers tentatively decided that our support group could perhaps now evolve from organizing conference calls to meeting in person and discussing common interests (adoption from Ethiopia seemed like a good start). We decided to start at my house, set a date of November 30th, and determined that we would discuss a book.

After much to-ing and fro-ing we settled on Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese. As time passed, of course glitches arose. Some idiot left her book in a hotel room in Washington, DC (ok, that one was me). Another forgot to get started. Another went to Hawaii and tried to finish it at the last minute and fell asleep and forgot the ending. Basically, we were meant to be together.

We cracked open a bottle (or two), toasted today's successful milestone of 246 amended retainer agreements received by our adoption agency; enough to just maybe get our adoptions back on track, and tucked into Thai food. Yes, perhaps the food/wine selection didn't quite match the reading material, but it's my party and I'll Thai if I want to. And just like that, new friendships were born. We never got around to discussing the book but we covered pretty much everything else. To keep the momentum going, we've settled on My Father's Daughter, by Hannah Pool, for January 2010, but I wouldn't bet money that we get a discussion going.

Here's to new friends!

More Belated Posting

This time from the big birthday party. Thirty people spread out over the house leaving me not too much time with the birthday girl. But we had a great time anyway. And in keeping with old wives tales, I measured her, sans afro, and she came in at a very respectable 34.5 inches. Apparently you take a child's height at age 2 and double it, and you'll get their adult height. Based on that, at 5'9", she'll measure up eye to eye with her dear mama. But her hair will take her over the top, no doubt.

My Little Monster

Yes, I'm very late posting, but I needed time to get over the trauma. Halloween was not a happy event this year. She screamed just looking at the costume. The feet freaked her out so I had to tuck them out of sight, up her pant legs. Putting on the head gear was out of the question. It took two of us to stuff her in - one to manipulate arms and legs and the other to distract and console.

Finally, off we went, one mama and three aunties in tow. She refused to walk - I would set her down on each doorstep and she would quietly reach in a bowl and take her candy, put it in her pumpkin, and promptly reach for pick up with a solemn "up peas". Then I would carry her to the next house. This is why you travel with 3 aunties. Anything less and there's not enough people to take a shift and still collect enough candy for the adults to remotely make the event worthwhile.

The first smile I got was once we were back in the house and she had her first taste of chocolate bar - an Aero to be exact. With her mood having improved somewhat, we tried a photo op - but still to no avail. What you mostly see is a tricky manoever called the "headgear hover", such that said headgear does not actually come to rest upon the reluctant head. So, you have to imagine what the costume might have looked like by combining her body with her aunty's head. I will be amortizing this costume over next year I think.

A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was an aspiring cirque du soleil performer who thought that jumping up and down in the crib was a good way to practice lift off. One day she went a little too close to the edge and bounced head first, right over. Luckily, her multi-talented coach, a.k.a. "mama" was standing close by and caught the little trapeze artist head first about 3 inches off the ground. Mama gave herself a pretty big pour. Then she went shopping for (another) baby trap. No more lift off for you baby girl!