This Reminds Me

Archive for the ‘Celebrate’ Category

This is my youngest child with her three older sisters.

She was asleep when she became an American citizen – as the wheels of this homeward-bound plane touched down in Dallas.   We had already paid about $1,500 in immigration fees, plus completed a mountain of paperwork including highly-scrutinized documents attesting to our ability to support her and provide her health care.  We did not stuff her in a suitcase to sneak her through Customs, or attempt to brand her a “co-citizen” and therefore claim no rules – or fees – applied.

Went to sleep Russian and awoke American

We patiently navigated DFW Immigration to have that all-important IR-4 stamp affixed to her Russian passport.

Her Certificate of Citizenship arrived in the mail a few weeks later.  I’d never seen one before.  Wish I could show you this large, impressive document, but copying it is against the law.  Fingering her Certificate of Citizenship both weakens and inspires me, much like I felt as a senior in high school when I gaped at the real Constitution and Declaration of Independence.  I’d won an essay contest with a prize being a trip to Washington, D.C.   I don’t cry easily.  But I cried in the National Archives as I peered down through the thick walls of protective glass at the two most important documents in our nation’s history.

With her certificate in hand, Keith waited in interminable lines to secure  Julia’s Social Security card.  Her future earnings will be taxed.

Once we had the Social Security card, we braved the Post Office to secure the final “say” in all items authentication – her American passport.   We had to send off the original Certificate of Citizenship to do so.  I sweat bullets the 14 weeks before her passport arrived, fearing some harm would come to that certificate.  None did.  It’s in our safety deposit box now – with other important papers – to be given to her later.  We also invested $350 to have her Russian birth certificate recorded in Texas – a “Recognition of Foreign Decree” – so she can get birth certificates from the state when she needs them.  Julia is anything but an “undocumented immigrant.”

Today my youngest child has all the rights and privileges her American-born sisters enjoy, save one.  She can’t be President.

She also has all the responsibilities of her American-born sisters.  She’ll pay taxes.  She’ll vote.  She’ll obey the laws.  When she starts driving, she’ll have a license.  And proof of insurance.

Because she is an American.

And today especially – I thank God for that.

We’ve just celebrated our fourth Sisters Day – the fourth anniversary of Julia coming home in May, 2006.  We know most adoptive families celebrate “Gotcha Day,” but we like “Sisters Day” better.  “Sisters Day” focuses on the four, not just the one.

Who was this timid child with the deer-in-the-headlights look in 2006?!

Because we are shameless heathens, we skipped church and started the morning with Dad’s waffles, and a sterling silver surprise for each sister.

A “Sisters” necklace for each, set at her place.  Rachel, Lois and Hannah were talking last night about how their places at the table haven’t changed since we’ve been in San Antonio.  I think there’s a certain comfort in that.  When someone plops down in someone else’s seat – chaos!

Weeks ago, the girls voted to eat lunch at Chili’s and see “Oceans” to celebrate Sisters Day – a neat choice, since Julia told us upon first meeting her that she loved dolphins.

Rachel – horrified at the baby turtles that are also known as “lunch” in “Oceans”

I was racking my brain for something else “aquatic” we could do (and afford!) when a great deal just fell into my lap at the last minute – heavily discounted tickets to Sea World good for one day only – the Sunday we were celebrating Sisters Day!  Talk about timing!

A quick family picture at Sea World while we were still fresh.  Humidity was high – our un-sweatiness didn’t last long.

Flipper, courtesy of Rachel’s iPhone

Shamu, also courtesy of Rachel’s iPhone.  Why, oh why are her i-pictures so much better than mine?

Hannah, Julia and I rode “The Journey to Atlantis. “  It was fuuuuuun all the way doooooooown.

All of us wanted to see Shamu in action.  Hannah and Julia coerced Keith (with my waterproof Olympus) into sitting in the Splash Zone.  Lois, Rachel and I had sense enough to sit higher up, away from what toddler Lois used to called “whale spit.”

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Sisters Day is supposed to be about the girls – what they want to do, how they want to celebrate our family.  It pleases me when there’s a bit’o'serious mixed in with the plenty’o'silly.

Rachel’s napkin doodle with Julia’s crayons – good thing I noticed it before wiping my Shiner Bock Burger lips

We all enjoyed Sisters Day.  I hope the girls continue to mark this special occasion after Keith and I are gone.  I want them to take care of each other when we can’t.

After all – sisters are pretty good to have.

We stopped on the way home from church to snap a few bluebonnet pictures, which are obligatory in Texas.

My four favorite flowers:  Lois, Rachel, Julia & Hannah.   There was a recent, clear indentation in this patch of bluebonnets, so the girls were happy to plop down in it. Hannah kept encouraging Julia to “sit down first and check for snakes.”

Julia and Rachel have an entire series of  “Youngest-Oldest” photos.

Hannah may be 14, but she still reminded me to tell the Easter Bunny that’s she’s gotten a hollow white chocolate bunny every Easter and 2010 better be no exception.  It wasn’t.

I got no other pictures of Lois, because she hastened to obey Keith’s shouts of “Hurry up!”  We might have climbed through barbed wire into a field to take these pictures.  We might have ignored this sign.  We might have pulled away as a police car drove by.

And we might be having a very happy Easter.

Hope you are, too!

We celebrated Julia’s 10th birthday yesterday at Laser Quest.   “Laser Quest” is from the Greek, meaning, “50 Decibels in Each Ear.”

But they loved it.

Rachel, Lois and Hannah offered to “chaperon,”  and actually the extra hands were quite helpful.  Lois also brought a (girl) friend and then amazingly – a male “friend” appeared.  “I just decided I wanted to play Laser Tag today, Mrs. Woodworth.”  Uh-huh.  Righhhhhttt.

What every 10-year-old girl dreams of – a gynormous Nerf gun.

The kids in the ‘hood, after the party.   Watch yourself.

I never feel particularly “old” until I am with a group of mothers from Julia’s class, each of whom look like she’s maybe 18 with perfect hair, hips and teeth – all straight.

Or until I read an article like this, that tells me I’m old because I blog.

So I’m old.  Even if I didn’t blog, my kids tell me I’m old because:

I wear a watch.

I not only use a landline, but also insist they call it before giving up on reaching a family member.

I read books.  I’ve played with a Kindle but don’t yearn to have one.

I sometimes buy CD’s.

I use my p.c. more often than a wireless phone to access the internet.

I seldom Twitter.  What would I Twitter about?  “Great sale on apples at HEB.”  or “New episode of ‘Big Love’ tonight.”

So I’m old.  And yet….I do love Facebook.  And techy blogs.  And user groups.  And texts.  I buy most non-grocery household items online.  Fun apps excite me.  I carry my Flip in my purse.

Maybe I have one foot on Earth, and one foot in cyberspace.

And I guess as long as those feet carry me home to Keith and these four way-smarter-than-their mom girls – I’m okay with with that.