US Citizenship and a Siberian Diaper Change

On Thursday, July 30, Ari and I passed through Customs at Chicago's O'Hare Airport, where she became a US citizen!! My heart felt such happiness and pride on this momentous occasion. Of course, Ari was oblivious to such an important event, and while I was filled with such awe, Ari's diaper was filled with a celebratory treasure.

It was great to be back in the US, back home, where we could finally settle into a routine. We were both exhausted, but my sweet little girl tolerated Customs personnel barking at us and telling us to move here, there, and everywhere.

Still, we were happy. We got off a very difficult 14-hour ride from Hong Kong.

We were sitting in an aisle seat (thank goodness!), next to two doting women who, well, doted on her. Yet, 14 hours is 14 hours, and that's a long trip for anyone, let alone a toddler confined to her mother's arms and where leg space was so bad in the upgraded Economy Plus, that I looked like a basketball player in relation to my surroundings, with knees smushed against the seat (which explains the bruises). And I dreaded meal/snack times, as I couldn't quite open the tray fully because of the child on my lap.

I felt like I had to be a wizard of sorts, preventing the orange juice from splattering all over others, and bread from being flung into someone's lap, all the while making sure Ari was fed and praying that in a cabin with no room everywhere, even near the bathroom area, that she would not poop. So far, the kid is considerate and takes a dump when it's more convenient for me. She did so at the hotel the morning of the flight, and she didn't poop again until after she became a US citizen.

I was proud that she soiled her diaper on American soil.

But on the plane I still had to do a mid-air diaper change, so I quickly grabbed her and put a little blanket on the floor of the section near the bathrooms, a section that had, like, a whole five feet of space. I had to diaper her on the floor with onlookers nearby, so I did her business quickly and efficiently, all on the floor of that crowded section of that cramped-seating plane with cramps running down my back and legs.

When we got back to our seat, we saw the map of where the plane was flying in the world at that moment. (These maps were cast on the screens at intervals between really stupid American movies with Chinese subtitles.)

The map showed that we were over Siberia. Not many parents can boast that they diapered their little one(s) over Siberia, but I can. I felt joy and excitement about this, which indicates the cabin pressure might've been a bit much for me!

Overall, Ari made it through the flight like a champ. Of the 14 hours she was constrained onto my lap in a very cramped area, she only squirmed and cried about a half hour of that total. She was easily soothed and mostly clung to me, even after we bumpily hit American soil.

Her mom, on the other hand, was sore, exhausted, and bruised. But very happy to be back home.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

Fright Nights in the Gainer Household

No, my kid isn't rabid (here she's eating cottage cheese), but the way she acts at nighttime, one would think she was either possessed or rabid. My delightful-child-by-day becomes very stubborn at night. In fact, I half expect her head to start spinning 360 degrees.

Last night, after exhausting all means that I thought possible, she finally cried herself to sleep, which took awhile. I made sure she was alright, but it took her a long time to calm down, hence her sleeping in a bit this morning.

I tried sleeping in her room last night on one of those blow-up matress thingies (which seemed very comfortable), but to my surprise, my presence caused a shrill howl because in her view, it's either momma's arms or the highway.

I even had these lullabies playing in a CD, but they only soothed her -- you got it -- when she was in my arms.

And as she was crying, I started wondering, "Am I doing the right thing?" Should she be attached to me in a super-glue kind of fashion? And will she show up on the Jerry Springer show someday in a "Who's-Your-Momma-and-Why-Did-She-Suck Episode"?

But then the rational part of me -- or what was left of it -- took over. I realized that she needed to learn to self-soothe and to be more autonomous. That as a parent, I am also a teacher, and she needs to learn that while mom loves her deeply and is meeting her needs, Ari must to learn that she cannot cling 24/7 to her mother, and that bedtime is a time when she needs to sort things out.

I know that I have to get these bedtime snafus worked out before we appear on a Supernanny episode. I am patient and feel that this is just a parent-child bump in the road of life -- and there will be many more to come.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

Ari-licious

I've been back in the US with my daughter Ari for almost a week now, and her sleep schedule needs fine-tuning. She is very attached to me, which is great, considering that she hated me for the first four days of our togetherness.

Luckily, she's sleeping now, which is why I am able to put a posting up. I could be smart and nap like most parents, but if I don't write, I get a tad ansy. Still, she looks so precious when she sleeps.



The biggest hurdle -- I'm sure that won't surprise any parent -- is bedtime. She's a happy kid: until she is placed in her crib. Then she screams, wails, and cries, and I then go through all the self-doubt every parent goes through. I do my best to comfort my little one, but I'm getting the message loud and clear: being a parent is the hardest job on Earth.

However, even though my daughter seems strong-willed, stubborn, and very difficult when it comes to bedtime, I keep reminding myself of the many wonderful qualities she has, and that is what I want to share at this time.

Ari is a beautiful, sweet girl whose frequent smiles light up a room. She also laughs a lot, and although she mostly babbles, she sings a lot, especially when being strolled. I enjoy hearing her cute "la la la la's." Rather than sing her lullabyes, I sing her a rated G version of "Beast of Burden" and "Smoke on the Water," as well as "Turn the Beat Around." She loves them!!

My daughter is smart -- she catches on easily. She hits the rhythm and tones of the aforementioned songs on key.

She imitates everything and has a great appetite for anything edible (we ate mule in China, which is fitting because sometimes she, like any toddler, is stubborn as one). She doesn't complain about what I put in her mouth. She has eaten pot stickers, sushi (without the raw fish), beef and noodles, and just about every fruit known to humankind.

Her strong-willed nature is a characteristic I admire because I'm strong-willed myself. Like me, Ari won't tolerate nonsense, and she will let you know that she's not happy with you. While she smiles readily, people she doesn't know must earn that smile or laugh from her. That just means she is good at judging character.

Overall, I've got a great, happy-go-lucky kid, who loves to play, laugh, and smile. See the following pictures for a look-see at her terrific personality.















Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

Collision Course

In my last blog on China, I emphasized the courtesy and kindness of the Chinese people. This applies to every aspect -- except when it comes to driving.

What I observed was like something one cannot imagine unless one sees it him or herself. You have cars, motorcycles, and bicycles -- oh my! -- going in all directions, including cars on the sidewalk. Our adoption group thought it would be safe to stroll our babies on the sidewalk -- until an SUV decided to drive behind our non-motorized vehicles.

We got the message and moved out of its way. I say "it" because it's hard to believe that a human being would come so close to hitting people with strollers, and in such a cavalier way.

It is sort of like walking in a world where a bunch of Chitty Chitty Bang Bangs have run amock.

Within our first day at Nanchang, we witnessed a motorcycle and car collide. Looked like no one was hurt, but it was very unnerving, especially since the drivers seemed to treat that near-death experience as just something that one experiences calmly in the normal course of life. At least I thought so, as I thought I saw a truck coming head-on toward our bus on a highway. But perhaps it was a mirage, as it felt hotter than the desert during our stay.

Ironically, it was the few gazillion pedestrians who stunned me; it seemed their life mission was to get killed under a four- to 16-wheeler. I saw it with my own eyes: pedestrians walking or bikers biking right in front of a bus in motion. At first I would wince, praying we wouldn't hit anyone (we didn't), but after awhile, I got a little used to it and just sweated a little more.

After observing the drive-o-rama madness in China, I really gained an appreciation for American drivers. Other than the occasional road rage incident (the Chinese seem too polite to have road rage), American drivers and pedestrians seem to care about what happens to their cars and whoever happens to be in or around them.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

The Wonderful Chinese People

I am back from a whirlwind experience in China, which involved adopting my baby, plus doing some sightseeing. I wanted to blog from China, but being a single parent, my hands were literally full -- either with baby, diapers, food, or all of the above.

What impressed me the most about China, besides its beauty and the heart-breaking poverty, was its people. Of all the people I've met, I can honestly say that China has the friendliest, warmest, kindest people. Kinda makes one think, considering the country gets a lot of bad press in the US media for all the communistic ways and lead-in-toys fiasco.

Chinese people would approach me on the street and coo over my baby. They were so helpful, it was mind-boggling to me. No matter where I was strolling my baby, if there was even one step to hurdle through, there was always a Chinese person -- male and female -- to help me by carrying the stroller with the baby in it! They didn't want me to strain themselves and were always my guardian angels.

For the first four days of my adoption journey, Ari was nearly inconsolable -- very understandable for someone who was carted from caregivers she was attached to and carted into a stranger's arms and whisked away into a foreign-looking hotel room.

Ari cried and wailed a lot, often in grief. I coped with it well, so by the end of the trip, she was very attached to me.

During the hard times, though, while Americans were rolling their eyes at Ari and me, laughing at us, or just making rude comments about my "brat," the Chinese waiters and waitresses were picking her up and trying their best to console her. I could tell that they had a fondness for her and managed to calm her.

I can give many examples of the kindness of the Chinese people, but all I have to say is this: They offered me help all the time (including putting me on a direct flight to Chicago because I was a single mother and they didn't want me to struggle any more than I had to), they didn't poke fun of me and my child the way Americans did, and they treated all others with respect and kindness, even though I witnessed piggish, hostile American behavior. I was embarrassed at how rude some Americans were to the Chinese.

When I finally arrived at O'Hare's baggage claim, the American workers were rude and couldn't care less whether I ever got my bags. The two people who offered to help find my luggage and take it wherever I wanted were -- yes it's true -- from China. While Americans who clearly saw that I was one woman alone with a baby refused to help in any way because they opted for selfishness, the Chinese women who offered help were courteous and very kind.

I finally told the first one who offered me help that I was tired of American arrogance and how much I already missed the friendliness of the Chinese people, and she said that in China, the people really try to treat the country's guests with great respect and welcoming arms.

As a single mom with a child who was going through major grief, I am glad I had to do it in China, for without such human kindness, I would feel very alone and afraid. I did miss America a lot and was very homesick at times (the subject of a future blog), but I think Americans can take lessons on courtesy from the wonderful Chinese people.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

Blast-Off

Today is the day I leave for China.

I can't believe this moment, the one I've been waiting for for so long, is finally here. I am savoring this moment, this beautiful summer morning.

Destiny is finally joining Wen Pei and me.

I'm bringing my sketchbook, pencils, and a good book on the plane. But most important, I'm bringing myself.

Hang in there, Wen Pei. Mommy's coming to get you and bring you home.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.

One Day to Launch

I can't believe that tomorrow at this time, I'll be at O'Hare Airport, getting psyched and ready for a flight I've been looking forward to for years. And I generally don't look forward to flights.

As I'm sure my fellow travel group members are doing, today I'm tying up loose ends, making sure everything is packed and doing a few errands. I'm proud of myself because I did pack early and did all the major things last week.

Now today is a day of peace. 

I feel a calm, drowsy, almost meditative feeling. I've been sleeping well and taking Airborne at night....just as a preventive measure. I've shed my nervousness because even though I don't like plane rides, there is one thing keeping me anchored to that sense of tranquility:

Meeting my daughter on Sunday.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.