For Lois – who plans to wear it the first day of school

For Rachel – You may need to read this more than once for understanding.  Or not.

For Hannah – Who’d like to know who, too?

I was chuckling reading these shirts’ messages, remembering some advertising slogans that didn’t translate well.  I ran across them about eight years ago, launching the original SBC Espanol site.

Coors’ “Turn It Loose” in Spanish became “Suffer from Diarrhea.”

The Dairy Association’s “Got Milk?” in Spanish translated to “Are You Lactating?”

Pepsi’s “Come Alive with the Pepsi Generation” morphed into China’s “Bring Your Ancestors Back from the Grave.”

KFC’s “Finger Lickin’ Good” translated to “Eat Your Fingers Off” in Chinese.

“Jolly Green Giant” in Arabic became “Intimidating Green Ogre.”

The chicken slogan, “It takes a strong man to make tender chicken” was translated into Spanish as “It takes an aroused man to make a chicken affectionate.”

Those slogans are every translator’s nightmare.

Maybe even T-shirt slogan translators?!

Lois and Brooke at our church’s “Around the World” Women’s Spring Fling – Who knew she’d be a world traveler so soon?!  Ah, Brookie-san – frank you!

We know our family.  With three older girls, we felt another girl had the best chance of attaching.  Aged 4 – 8 we felt was young enough to mold, distanced enough from Hannah and old enough for us to shepherd her into adulthood.  No serious medical, emotional or physical conditions – with both of us working outside the home, we weren’t seeking more of a challenge than we’d already have simply by adopting.  Ours was a faith journey, and while we were trusting God to sort it all out, we weren’t going to be foolish.  We weren’t going to say “any child” and be matched with a three-legged, 15-year-old pyromaniac.  We didn’t specify race because – based on the demographics of St. Pete – we figured our girl would look like some flavor of us.  Not a clone.  But close enough not to attract rude stares.  I grew up with a limbless brother and know how siblings are affected by one-offs.  I wasn’t going to willfully subject my kids to that sly scrutiny – period.

The adoption forums, blogs, etc. are stuffed with families’ preferences, many of which express a desire for a child “as young as possible.”   Most couples want babies.  I understand that.  We didn’t.  But I understand why most do.  Attachment is certainly easier.  Most families – especially if they’d done much research – also want kids that look like them.  More points of commonality = easier to attach, for both parents and children.  If other children are in the family – easier for them, too.  Also easier if the child is added to the family in birth order, if there’s only one adopted at a time (unless bio siblings), etc.

That’s not to say that transracial, out-of-birth-order, multiply-adopted children can’t attach.   Not at all.  We all know families for whom these adoptions have worked.  But every stray card you’re dealt decreases your chances of attachment.  Harsh – but true.

I’m not criticizing how families choose to adopt.  I wouldn’t presume to.  I just know that for us – we wanted to increase our chances for success every way we could.

The adoption blogs and boards are ablaze now with news from Italy.  Its government has decided to outlaw race as a criteria for adoption.  So Italian PAPs (Prospective Adoptive Parents) can no longer specify a child’s desired race.

This sounds so brave, so wonderful, so egalitarian.  Who could argue with a decree so noble?

I notice – perhaps unfairly – that those who support this type of Big Brother edict have never adopted, or are past the age where it matters.

I notice – perhaps unfairly – that those who have never adopted are quick to tell those of us who have what they think they would do if they did adopt.  “Well, I’d never look at race.  A child is just a child.”  “I’d take a whole houseful, not just one.”  “I’d never change a child’s name.”  And on and on.

I notice – perhaps unfairly – that those who are past the age where it matters cast a golden glow on their parenting experiences.  “When we got Sally, we never asked about race.”  No, you didn’t have to.  It was assumed.

When I’ve spoken to families adopting who already have children, their #1 concern is ensuring the kids they have aren’t hurt by the experience.   Adoption begins with loss, and it’s always a gamble.  How many risks are you going to layer on the children you already have?

If Italy is going to declare race off limits to adoptive families, how about the child’s age?  Teens aren’t “as young as possible” though, are they?  How about physical or mental challenges?  Surely everyone has the resources to handle those?  Gender – my gosh, surely that shouldn’t matter?   The child’s friends – can’t leave them behind, now can we?

Where does government dictating to PAPs end?

I think Italians will likely choose alternative paths.  The less wealthy won’t adopt if they can’t have the most basic control over the first and most fundamental, God-given unit of society:  The Family.  The more wealthy will go black market, or live elsewhere long enough to adopt.  Or they’ll adopt only from countries – like Russia – that are likely to offer children similar in appearance to them, bypassing Italian children languishing in foster care.

Adoption is – contrary to much politically-correct babble – not just “about the child.”  It’s about the whole family – its desires, its goals, its limitations.

That may not be fair.

But it’s true.

And I notice it.

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.

I played hooky today to take the girls to the LBJ Presidential Library and Museum in Austin.  There’s a Walter Chronkite exhibit in addition to the permanent Presidential/Texana displays.  Awesome!

Not a bad drive – less than two hours.  And blessedly overcast as Texas awaits the arrival of Hurricane Alex.

Great Minds

I explained to Hannah:  I was in second grade when JFK was assassinated.    A neighbor – Bobby Dyer – shared the news as I rode my bike home.  I called him a dirty liar and beat him up.    A few years ago, I entered the Kwik Copy he managed with his wife.  He recognized me and quickly hunched and raised both fists.

We talked a lot of WWII history on the way home, including PT109, LBJ and his fellow Congressmen called home after a few months of military service, the role of the GI Bill in post-war America, etc.

A wall of campaign buttons.  I have dozens (hundreds?), the oldest of which is a 1900 McKinley/Roosevelt.  At the 1984 RNC in Dallas, I had an opportunity to buy a Lincoln  Daguerreotype for $125 – and I didn’t.  I wish I had.  Those were the days when I had time and money.

The Civil Rights displays totally mystified and captivated Julia, whose best friends (and our next door neighbors) are black.

Tricky Rachel, who says she’s not a crook – though not all my change comes home from the grocery store

Animatron Lyndon cracking jokes freaked the herd of daycare kids.

Lois liked the memorabilia in the Cronkite exhibit, including NASA models of space craft.  My dad worked at NASA and we had two of those models.  I have no idea where they are now.  (sigh)

Lots of Cronkite’s notepads, teletype sheets, spirals, etc. on display.  Julia said, “Mom, his handwriting looks like yours,” to which Rachel responded, “No, you can read it.”

A little post-museum break for Hannah.  Julia was confused by the fountain geyser, thinking it was somehow related to the coming hurricane. Lois somberly confirming with a “Yes, Julia, it is – and we’ll probably have a tornado, too” didn’t help.

Many out-of-state plates in the parking lot, including those belonging to Twilight fans.

Ever heard of Flip Happy Crepes?  It’s about two miles from the museum.  Keith watched a “Throwdown with Bobby Flay” episode featuring the Flip Happy trailer, crew and delicious crepes!   We messaged poor Keith several photos while he slaved away at work, munching the lunch I packed before we left.

Flip Happy’s owner – Tessa – featured on the Bobby Flay program graciously stepped out for a photo.  Nice lady.  And tasty, tasty eats! Necessary to build our strength before an afternoon stop at the Tanger Outlets on the drive home. Everything at the Old Navy Outlet – 40% off today.  We did damage.

A great museum, fantastic exhibits, wonderful lunch and jaunt through the outlet mall – well, my fellow Americans - “That’s the way it was.”

Yes, we do get one of these pictures made.  Because we’re just cool like that.

One of my favorite Fiesta Texas tips. Save differently-colored plastic mug straws from year to year.  Then each person can use a uniquely-colored straw and there’s little danger of foreign backwash ingestion.

Pop Guns for Pop Divas

View from the Ferris Wheel, which Hannah and I love.  Lois – not so much.  She doesn’t trust us not to sway so she won’t ride.  Not trusting her loving family?  If I had feelings, they’d be hurt.

Scooby’s Haunted Mansion shoot’em’up.  Family rivalry is intense with many bets made (but not paid.)

The closest our girls will ever come to owning a dog.  At least as long as they live here.  Mom is mean.

Normally, we do the Lazy River last.  But it was sooooo hot – we jumped in as soon as we hit the water park.  One thing I really like about Fiesta Texas – they don’t charge extra for the water park.  Locker rentals are pricey.  We always hand ours off to another family when we leave.

Once I get in that tube, I’m not budging – even when a 54-lb. fish jumps on me.

This is the first time I’ve seen both of Lois’ eyes in months. I wasn’t sure that right one was still there.

Finally, a short mat-racing film by Hannah.  Look for it at Cannes.

Don’t forget to get your hand stamped on your way out!  And where did we park the swagger wagon?!

The Woodworth summer has – to date – been a learning experience.

Keith is learning more about WordPress and has added “Recipes” and Library”  tabs to the top nav of This Reminds Me.  Very cool!  But the weather is not.  I am learning that by the time I drag off the bus in the evening, the heat has sucked the life right out of me and anything above “maintain” is an effort.  Watch for more content on those tabs soon.  Or at least as soon as I stop sweating.

Hannah continues to learn cake decorating, but kept it simple today for her daddy – a chocolate cake w/cow sprinkles and a side message of “From #3.”

When Keith stumbles over one of the girls’ names while hollering instruction, he often resorts to numbers.  Hannah is #3.  I do what my mom always did – just start hollering in order and stop when I hit the right one.  Julia is often designated the exotic-sounding RachLoHanJu.

Lois continues to learn/study Latin for the national competition in Fargo next month.  Yes, Latin.  Yes, Fargo, North Dakota.

Keith and I want her to watch the movie so she’ll know what to expect in Fargo, eh?

Lois is also learning to drive – taught by her (sainted) father.  He also taught Rachel, but says Hannah is learning at a school.  And Julia the Daredevil?  No driving until she’s at least 30.

We all had a good time learning about “Joseph in Egypt”  at Vacation Bible School (VBS) last week.

The Egyptians formerly known as Lois and Rachel worked 3rd & 4th grade VBS….

…which, coincidentally, their favorite princess was attending.

Hannah learned she liked working with Younger 4′s – the same age she was when we joined the church. Her teacher then – Ms. Sandra (kneeling) – also worked the Younger 4′s in VBS.  We shared hearty chuckles over preschooler Hannah licking the hand rail of the staircase, etc.

Rachel is learning Economics in an online summer school class.  Yesterday, she learned a real economic lesson, as evidenced by our nearly-simultaneous Facebook posts.

The lesson:  It is expensive to be completing a legal U-turn when a speeder behind you is swerving into oncoming traffic.

Our Sunday School classes always take prayer requests.  After church today, Rachel asked Julia, “Did you pray for me today and thank God I wasn’t hurt in the accident?”  Julia looked at her and said, “No.  You’re not even dead.”

Lesson learned:  Don’t ask unless you want to know.

I learned 19 years ago that I was married to best father ever.

Happy Father’s Day, Keith.  Let’s hope we survive the next decade or two of lessons.  xoxoxo

The water is cool , the neighbors are warm and Julia’s diving is hot.

Here’s what I’ve learned at our neighborhood pool:

10. You can learn to dance by going barefoot on the walk to the car.

9.  If you want a dry book, read at the library.

8.  A Sonic Route 44 Diet Cherry Limeade tastes best with a dash of chlorine.

7.  C-sections really did used to be vertical, didn’t they?

6.  Nothing says “roll down the windows” like a forgotten, wet, lotion-greased towel baked in the car overnight.

5.   A splashed pizza box and napkins dumped in the trash can is my favorite way to do Friday night dishes.

4.  When the middle school boys arrive – it’s time to go.

3.  “Woe to she who adjusteth my goggles strap.”  1st Rebecca 6:5

2.  I wish everything in my life could smell like Dreamsicle-y  Ocean Potion 30.

And the #1 thing I’ve learned:

1.  The extra-warm baby pool is to be avoided.

(l-r)  Allison, Bailey, Katie, Kyle, Joey, Lois, Rachel, Brooke (Lois’ best friend) and Hannah

And they sang a capella – the way I learned to sing.  In fact, the congregation sang “Trust and Obey,” which – when I was a child – we sang every week at the start of Sunday School.  Not that my long-suffering teachers would have thought it made much of an impression on me.

I’m going to be humming all day……

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.

In March – spurred by a new job in AT&T – I broke down and bought one.

And I’m in love.  iLove.  How did I survive those years with my now constant-companion?!

Bad weather in San Antonio today.  Students at Lois’ high school were herded to the gym, where the power went out.  Think she was hinting to be picked up early?!  I love the iPhone’s qwerty keyboard – so much easier to text back, though I’m fond of one-word response.  My screensaver shot is of Hannah holding the cake she raffled off at our church’s Spring Fling, raising $57 for the women’s ministry.  I uploaded that picture to Facebook immediately.  The kids text me all the time.  And my Facebook posts have increased dramatically with the iPhone.

Since Rachel has an iPhone, too, her texts can contain pictures – like of Julia, whom she took out for breakfast this morning.

When I get on the bus in the morning, I check Facebook first thing.  Well, not really first, because I absolutely must play…….

Words with Friends is the most awesome application ever!  It’s sort of Scrabble-light.  The first of two times Rachel beat me, she sent me this screen shot.  What a snot.   Love, love, love this game.  I play with friends in Chicago, Tyler, Dallas, etc.

You know the CalmCoolConnected blog to which I contribute?  I recently sent them a video – of which this is a still shot -  of my shopping for pajamas for Julia.  She’s terribly picky about her clothes, and she wasn’t with me.  So I was taking pictures of the pajamas and emailing them home to Keith, who would show them to her.  I grabbed a woman, introduced myself and asked her to shoot the video on the Flip I carry in my purse (so I could hold my iPhone – otherwise, my iPhone could have shot it.)  I’m sure she thought I was nuts.  But she did it.    Many would think the videos better if I were 30, blond, slim and perky.  But – as a friend of mine used to say – “Real life ain’t this way.”

I could ramble on and on about my iPhone.  The House app I got last week – Lois and I love that show.  The K-Love app I was so proud of getting until Rachel showed me iheartradio with its hundreds of stations – so I got that one, too.  The Scramble game that Julia races to play.    The Disney Cover Styler that Hannah used to edit pictures – and make me laugh.  And, of course, Weather and Maps,  to which Keith wishes I paid more attention.

The real reason I love my iPhone is because of the people to whom it connects me.  Rachel.  Lois.  Hannah.  Julia.  Keith.  It helps me see them – their texts, their pictures, their attitudes, their strategies  – even when I’m not with them.   That virtual intimacy is worth way more than $30/month.

It’s iLove.

And it’s priceless.