Rabbit, rabbit

Happy August!

We've been home five days (four nights) and we are slowly starting to morph into the timezone we once knew here. We've given ourselves lots of space and little obligations this week so that we could gently ease into life at home as a quartet. I feel so lucky that we can do that! That neither Tom or I have to rush off to work this week but can just have this space to to move into this new and exciting chapter of our lives.

Picking up Molly in Hanoi in July was blistering hot and humid like this Eastern Shore girl has never seen before BUT it was divine timing. We basically have the summer off from work and school responsibilities so it was perfectly timed. Molly is swinging in her swing (thanks Jack for the loan!), sucking her thumb, waking up every few minutes to smile at me and then go back to her cat nap. It just occurred to me that it's almost like shes's always been here and I have distant memories of what it was like when we were a trio.

We've been waiting for her for a long time and I will say that we all agree, hands down, that she was worth the wait. And, as you will often here in adoption circles, she is just the baby who is supposed to be in our lives. There are times in the adoption process that I wanted a baby so bad and RIGHT NOW. But, like with Max, if that had happened that way, well then we wouldn't have Molly. It works just as it is supposed to work, whether we understand it or not.

So, by and large, it's nice to be home. Max got up at 3:30 in the morning the first two nights home to play with his toys. He was so happy to be re-united with his "things." I had woken up at 5:30 a.m. to find all the lights on downstairs and he was on the sunporch happily playing with his cars and planes. "I didn't want to wake you up, Mommy," he said, eating his second package of peanut butter crackers. "I wanted to let you and Daddy sleep."

He seems to be finding his independence since we've returned. He does more things that he can do for himself and it's nice to see him growing up. Maybe he was this way before we left and I only notice it more now with Molly because we have to do everything for her. While I'm excited Max is more independent and ultimately what every parent wishes for their children, I also have a tad bit of grief. What do you mean he thinks he can walk out to the garden by himself to pick tomatoes? Can he really do that without me? Isn't he going to need me forever? What about all of the cuddles and hugs that nourish me as much as him? What will happen to them?

I know I'm just rambling. As if this entire blog hasn't been one long ramble. There's so much that I've wanted to write and say, to document for me and my family as well as to inform my fellow adoptive parents who are soon on their way to Vietnam themselves. If you're an adoptive parent and have any questions, feel free to email me because there's no guarantee that I'm going to have time to address all that I want to say. Plus, some discussions are better left privately.

It's wonderful to be in our home. Our friend Dawn did a great job housesitting and in the course of her spiritual work, infused our home with great energy. We were bummed to come home Saturday afternoon to find the second floor air-conditioning system broken but an emergency call to our repairman had it fixed by Monday afternoon. In the meantime, we played "Hotel" all sleeping together in Molly's room, thanks to a window unit lent to us by our neighbors.

My garden has survived the summer drought and my absence though there were a few casualties. The stewartia pseudocamelia and the chionanthus virginicus both took it hard, so hard that they are both dead. But they were new installations that needed a lot of TLC which I didn't have to offer while we were gone.

As for the stacks of mail, we have yet to attack them. I have sorted through the trash mail and popped those pieces in the recycling bin. Catalogs, magazines, bills, and general correspondence are all in neat piles though I have yet to open them. That's a fun project for later today.

The truth is in this weary jetlag phase, I'm not sure where I really am or where I really want to be. My body is most definitely here in Tunis Mills but my mind is mostly still in Vietnam. I long for fresh spring rolls - I ate them nearly every day - and fresh mango juice. All the shopping I did in Hanoi seems to look like nothing short of a small anthill when spread out on my office floor. And here I thought I had gotten so much. I thought I finished my Christmas shopping for the year but not so. I could have done so much more! I miss the unbelievable plethora of dining options in Hanoi. From Vietnamese, western, French, Italian, Indian, Chinese, Thai, Japanese, Korean. You name it, they had it. I miss the busyness and commotion on the streets. Indeed, it was annoying walking down the street in Hanoi because there were so many people, some rushing, some sitting on plastic stools enjoying tea, some leaning against motorbikes slurping on ice creams, others plying fresh produce, stinky fish and cheap flowers. Yet, as bothersome as it was - especially with a stroller! - life was happening right there on the streets. The Vietnamese live outside. It all hangs out. They eat, drink, nap, work, play checkers, smoke waterpipes, sell cigarettes individually, all right there on the street.

Back here in small town life USA, no one is on the streets except the occasional passerby. It's rather lonely and ghostly. Where is everyone? How come people here don't interact as intimately as over there? Everyone drives so safely and politely here. (I'm not complaining at all about that!) It's just a different rhythm to get used to where in Vietnam it was every man for himself on his bike, cyclo, motorbike, car or bus. It was the first thing Max noticed when we left Dulles airport. The roads are so much bigger and calmer. No one is pulling hysteronic feats of foolishness to overtake another vehicle. No horns blaring, simply to announce one's presence.

I'm not saying one place is better than another. They both have their merits and both have their pitfalls. What I suppose I'm trying to say is that there's a big gear change in the pace of life we were just living to the one we are now in. I suppose it's also culture shock, a sensation I've only ever experienced on the re-entry leg of my travels.

I leave Vietnam with the precioius, gentle daughter of my dreams. I leave having shared such an intimate and unbelievable experience with my husband and my son, both of whom I love more than ever for sharing this journey with me. Sharing it with enthusiasm, flexibility and curiosity. I leave knowing we will back. Yes, we will go back to Asia again to let our children visit the countries of their birth, their respective homelands. But, in all truth, we will go back because we passionately lust to explore more of Asia and want to see and do more. Burma, Laos and Bhutan are high on our lists.

And of course, Cambodia calls us both. As I told my Mom the other day, if I were at a different place in my life right now and a different time (i.e. not a parent of an infant and a toddler), I wouldn't have come home just yet. I would have stayed in Cambodia and just plopped right into the beautiful wave of humanitarian helping and philanthropy for a people who so desperately need it, deserve it and want it.

Here's to another day of fuzzy-headedness floating in a surreality. A little more cocculus (great homeopathic remedy for jet lag!) and time and we'll be good to go in no time. Tom's really itching to go. He's got Police tix for the Madison Square Garden show on Friday night... Not sure I'm up for the four hour jaunt to New York just yet. Sting can wait, in my books, but the doors of Bonpoint, Bergdorfs and Best & Co. are calling........ Afterall, I do have a little girl to shop for now!