Saturday, April 27, 2013

Striking Out

We are forever trying to lose weight. We are forever losing that battle. So we've decided to become a bit more athletic. We've started bowling.

Morgan and I met up with some friends who share our passion for the sport and were willing to hunker down for a night of fierce competition. Given that the oldest player was only five, I was a little surprised at the level of intensity surrounding each game. No one seemed to recognize that the fact we were using bumpers meant everyone was a guaranteed a high score.

David was at a wedding, so he joined us late...looking all fancy in his tie and sweater vest. Morgan quickly convinced him that he need to take a turn. It did not end well.

See this face? Are you picking up on the pained expression in his eyes? Does it remind of you of Morgan's incident last summer?

Automatic, built-in air conditioning. If this wasn't a family-oriented blog, I would insert a reference to there being a few too many balls at the bowling alley that night. But it is, so I won't.

Good thing they took this photo from the waist up. We may need to find a new sport. Something a little less intense. Like Foosball. Or checkers.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Nowhere Fast

I posted about our adoption plans in January. I literally have nothing (well almost nothing) to report since then.Trying to navigate the adoption process is arduous at best. Especially when the prospect of bringing a child into your family means that another family must be irrevocably broken first. It means patience, perseverance, and determination. And that's all before you even meet that new little person.

Morgan is turning five this year. She is starting kindergarten. She is carrying with her the label of "an only child" - that brings with it assumptions about being spoiled, rude, entitled. I know, because I've already heard it all. When she struggles with behavior, people are quick to point out it's because she doesn't have a sibling to work through things with. When she makes good decisions, it's because parenting an only child is "easy" as David and I don't have to divide our time with anyone else.  Really, we can't win.

For the record, when Morgan is naughty it's because she's only four and still learning the rules of road. When she's spectacular, it's because she's a good little soul with two parents who love her very, very much and are just tryin' to raise her right. And those two parents are becoming more and more anxious to bring another person into the mix.

We met with our caseworker on Saturday, mostly just to remind her that we're serious, and interested, and to bribe her with coffee and scones. We talked about taking in children for the weekend to give other families a break. We talked about how hard Health and Welfare is working to reunite families rather than break them apart. We talked about just how many 12 year old boys still need a permanent home. We talked about not giving up.

And so we won't. We will continue to stay on this path, hopeful and committed. In the meantime, we will continue to raise our daughter the best way we can. And if she indeed lives her life as an "only child," she will continue to be a little ray of sunshine to everyone she meets. And we will be proud.

Send good thoughts our way-this little sleeping beauty needs a playmate.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Smarty Pants

I am writing this post under duress. I am actually only writing this post because my mom let the cat out of the bag on Facebook this week. When I (rhetorically) asked David why my mom posted anything, Morgan chimed right in, "Mom, it's because she's your mom and she's still the boss of you!" Good point.  
Here we go.  How does this:

Plus this:
 Lead to this? And yes, I am wearing a tiara...not quite sure why, but go with it.

After filling out numerous applications, submitting transcripts dating back to my first very dismal semester at college, and trying to convince David that "Dr. and Mr. Lorenzo" will look great on our Christmas cards, I got some very exciting news...I have been accepted into a PhD program in Public Policy! Student loans and I are about to become very good friends again-
Morgan initally kept trying to tell everyone I am going to become a doctor, and I had to keep reminding her that I am only going to become a doctor of thinking and that I am not going to be checking ears or giving shots.  She tried to throw me a bone and asked me if I was going to become a veterinarian. After I let her know that my job wasn't actually going to make anyone feel better, she stopped telling people I am going back to school. Frankly, I don't blame her.
Morgan then informed me that she also knows how to think and immediately wanted to show me that she can count to 100.  I grabbed the camera, ready to capture her brilliance.
Yeah, she's brilliant alright. Punk.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Parts & Pieces

One of the many idiosyncrasies about my daughter is the fact that she loves to put just about anything to music. She will turn just about any story into a song and will make just about any word into a melody. Very rarely do I pay attention to what she sings, as it usually just confuses me. Last week at dinner was no exception.

Over a plate of broccoli and chicken, Morgan was murmuring to herself. David and I were chatting, oblivious to whatever story she was conjuring up. That is, until I heard the phrase, "La, la, la....funny wiener." As hard as this may be to believe, I actually don't use the word "wiener" around Morgan so the fact that she was casually throwing it out at dinner caught me a bit off guard.

However, I didn't want to freak her out, so I was all sorts of nonchalant when I said-

"So, uh, where did you learn the word "wiener"? 

     "From the boys in class. They were talking about their wieners at school today."

"Morgan, do you know what a wiener is?"

     "Ugh. Mom. It's a boy's privates. It's where they go potty."

At this point, I can feel the blood rushing to my face. David was mid-bite, scared shitless about what I was going to say next. He knows me well. He had every reason to be scared.

"First of all, it's called a penis, not a wiener. Second of all, they're called privates for a reason. You don't talk about your privates at school, your friends don't talk about their privates at school. And you certainly don't need to show each other your privates. In fact, if any of that happens,  you tell your teacher immediately. Do you understand?"

     "Yes, mommy."

"Okay, the next time one of  your friends wants to talk about their funny wiener, what are you going to do?"

     "Mom!!!!  I am just going to tell them IT'S CALLED A PENIS!!!!!!

Of course you will. I don't even know why I asked.