This Reminds Me

Archive for February, 2007

Come and listen to my story ’bout a family headin’ south

The kinfolk were packed when Dad opened up his mouth

He said, “Mexico would be really fun to see”

So they rented up a ‘burb and hauled the family.

Progresso, that is

Black purses

Texas border.

Well, the first thing you know

They’ve spent all their money

Mom says, “Hey, let’s hit the beach, Honey.”

So they head over to Padre

To play out in the sun

Before heading home

Gosh, they had a lot’o fun.

Kick your shoes off.

Read awhile.

What’s a car trip without side jaunts?  We stopped at a citrus farm to pick oranges and grapefruit, includin this big-as-her-head whopper Hannah plucked.

We’ve ambled into Laredo, Progresso and Reynosa over the years.  The boundary signage is always exciting to see.  Julia hadn’t been in a foreign country since the Zurich airport nine months ago.

Julia was required to hold someone’s hand all the time, and we always traveled in packs of two or more with at least one adult.  Progresso was more crowded (with snowbirds) than Laredo, our formerly favorite Mexican shopping spot.  Drug wars with civilian murders have decimated the tourist industry in Laredo – sad, sad, sad.

Julia was intrigued with all the baby Jesus imagery.  “Mama, is not Christmas.”

Crossing from Mexico back into Texas by foot doesn’t require a passport until 2008, but we took ours for safety – five blue U.S. passports, and one wine-colored Russian passport.  After seeing what a Canadian student with a Jamaican passport endured with a quarrelsome border guard, we quietly pocketed them and used our drivers’ licenses to verify our identity, and vouched for that of the girls.  We’ll have an American passport for Julia in a few months.

The official weather reports stated “96 degrees”  in McAllen, but our car thermometer wavered between 98 and 101.   Yes, it’s February in Texas, too.

A view of the back of the rented Suburban in McAllen, post-Mexico.  Seasoned shoppers (like us) bring their own plastic mesh bags for hauling treasures.  Great for beach stuff, too.  Now you see why we call ourselves “The Beverly Hillbillies” when we take a road trip.  It was worse when the girls were younger with booster seats, strollers, etc.  Now we just need to leave more room for Rachel’s make-up bag(s).

Brrrrrr!  The water at South Padre was freezing!   Reptilians Keith and Lois actually went under; Hannah and Julia went out about waist-level.  Rachel and I were wise enough to hunt for shells on the much-warmer sand.  We used hotels.com to find the cheapest room possible, simply to shower before we started the five-hour drive home.  We left at least a pound of sand in the tub and sink.

Notable quotables:

From Lois – commenting on Rachel’s recounting the last time she was at Padre (for church camp) and meeting some beach bum whose cell phone number she still had – “Maybe you should call him for life advice.”

From Julia – frustrated at the number of stops between her and the hotel pool – “Light is orange, Dad, orange, orange, orange, go go go.”

From Lois – dumbfounded by Rachel’s shrieking the fourth time she accidentally hit the “open window” button on the unfamiliar Suburban door – “You worry me, Rachel.”

From Lois – tired of hearing Keith hiss “I know that” when his laptop GPS mechanically intoned “Off Route.  Off Route.” – “Dad, that’s no way to talk to your mistress.”

From Rachel, when asked by the border crossing agent if she was a U.S. citizen – “Si.”

From Lois – viewing a 15′ high plaster shark head shading the entrance of a South Padre souvenir store -  “I wonder what the exit looks like.”

From Rachel – dismayed at the grief her sisters dished her about her make-up trunk – “Why can’t we be a normal family and never talk to each other?”

Why indeed?

Ya’ll come back now, ya hear?

Last month, we got the “Recognition of Foreign Decree” – the state of Texas acknowledging Julia’s adoption in a Russian courtroom.  Today we got her Texas birth certificate – yeah!  Note to PAPs – If you’re in Texas, and your child is coming home on an IR-3, ping me if you want to know how to do this.  Much, much cheaper than a re-adoption.

Julia is learning the Pledge of Allegiance.  It’s copied on the back of this beautifully-colored flag (with pipe cleaner pole) that I just pulled from her backpack.  She does pretty well, right up to ” and liberty and justice for all” – and that’s something most politicians can’t seem to get straight either, eh?

I also pulled this unfinished booklet from her backpack – she started it, and is supposed to finish it for homework this weekend.  Darned appropriate theme, no?

Of course, there’s other stuff on my kitchen counter, too.  Like this gift from my Secret Blog Pal -

And various and sundry medicines and ointments that accompany the monstrous cold I’ve been fighting (hack, hack, aaaa-choo!)

But somehow the birth certificate, flag and booklet seemed like they belonged together.

Sort of like a little paper family.

p.s.  I dare not blog about what is under my kitchen table.  You hear people say, “My floors are so clean, you could eat off them?”  All I say is, “You could eat off my floors.”

Look at my blog

And you will see

A clue about

What’s important to me.

Years ago – and I can’t remember exactly when or why – I prepared a “Valentine’s Day Treasure Hunt” for the girls.  It’s a tradition now – Mom’s gotta do it.  I hide clues all over the house, leading to a surprise for each of them.  The rhyming clues are short and grow progressively more difficult as the hunt continues.  The girls race from room to room in search of that next clue and ultimately – their treasure.

“John 3:16 in a Bible blue means another clue just for you.”  Okay, so I’m not much of a poet….

Today was no exception.  I roused them early while Keith went to snag a breakfast treat of doughnuts and kolaches.  Rachel explained the concept of the hunt to Julia, who was quick to join in.  When she found a clue, she would pass it to a sister to read aloud.  The girls finally discovered their treasures, tucked in the pink cooler under the stairs.  The prizes were nothing fancy.  A much-desired striped I-pod case for Rachel.  A “Nightmare Before Christmas” music box for Lois.  A snazzy pink watch for fashion diva Hannah.  A “Tom & Jerry” DVD set for Julia.

And they all smiled.

A year ago today – and I remember it in rich detail – we concluded a “Treasure Hunt” of our own.  Keith and I traveled 5,600+ miles to meet 6-year-old Guanna-to-be-Julia in St. Petersburg, Russia.  We had to do it.  We had ignored divine nudges for years, and finally got a clue we needed to get moving.  We began our hunt in July 2004 and as we continued, every step grew progressively more difficult.  We signed, sorted and stapled as we raced from notary to state apostille office to Fed Ex, with friends reminding us to keep our often-discouraged eyes on the prize.

Our first meeting – Valentine’s Day, 2006.  Her favorite color was purple – I had to love her!

Today was exceptional, as we reflected on meeting Guanna-to-be-Julia for the first time.  Crunching through snow to Children’s Home #47.  Sniffing feral cat up two flights of narrow, chipped concrete stairs.  The musty smell in the cramped director’s office.  How small Guanna-to-be-Julia seemed, and yet so brave.  How nervous we were as we hunched on too-small chairs, clutching a bag of toys and wondering, “Will she like us?  Does she want a home?”  We fell in love with the treasure we we discovered tucked away in Children’s Home #47, and were determined to bring her home.  What our familly wanted was not fancy.  We wanted a cherished lil’sis for Rachel.  An admirer for Lois.  A playmate for Hannah.  Another daughter for ourselves.  And, yes – a family for Guanna-to-be-Julia.

And we’ve all smiled.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.  Matthew 6:21

Happy Valentine’s Day.