Which Is More Comfortable? Spread Eagle or 18"

Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s not what you think. I can already feel my mom cringing as she prepares to read this posting. Relax. It’s not dirty. It’s not raunchy. And it’s not naughty.

A colleague who has given birth manages to tell me how lucky I am not to have to endure an actual birthing labor. Hers lasted a whopping 8 hours. I say whoop-dee-do-da, mine is going to last 28 hours - and that’s just the ride to the metaphorical hospital.

Let me explain why my labor pains will be more uncomfortable.

Her: Oh sweet, my water broke. Honey, get the car and have the air conditioner on high. Ohhh.. I just love this SUV. So roomy that even my big belly has elbowroom.
Me: ShitShitShitShit. How can this flight to Istanbul be full?!? OH HELL TO THE NO… I’m stuck in the middle seat for 20 frigging hours.

Her: Thanks for the wheelchair. Honey, you need to wheel me to our private room. Check in is so easy, how thoughtful. I’m going to get out of my clothes and put on my robe.
Me: Quit pushing me, a**hole. This security line isn’t moving and pushing me isn’t going to make it move faster. BeepBeepBeep (sounds of the metal detector). Seriously, Mr. Homeland Security Officer, I don’t know why the detector keeps going off. I’ve already taken off my shoes, socks, belt, pants and shirt. In fact, I’ve taken off my dignity as well in this line.

Her: Ohlala... I feel a nice breeze when my feet are in the stirrups.
Me: Ay ya ya.. the seats are only 18 inches wide. My ass has no freaking wiggle room on the plane. I’m suffocating. My knees are smashed together. My seatmates are both smelly and over 300 lbs. Oh geez.. someone farted.

Her: Honey, more ice chips please.
Me: dingdingding (furiously pressing the Attendant button): I really need a glass of water. I couldn’t bring anything to drink on the plane. You know, with it being illegal and all. No really.. I don’t want to wait another hour until the beverage tray reaches my row. I’m thirsty now. I’m about to pass out. I'm breathing rancid air.

Her: Ohhh… I can adjust the bed so my head is elevated and/or my feet are.
Me: The seat moves 2 inches into a ‘reclining’ position. Dammit… if that guy puts his dandruffed head on my shoulders again, I’m elbowing him awake.

Her: Dear God, thank you for blessing me with these comforts.
Me: (seatmate turning to me and asking me before take-off of a 20 hour flight) Ma’am, Have you found Jesus?

Sad News

About a year ago I was introduced to Diane (pictured, left), a single woman adopting from China. We had a mutual friend, Valerie, who insisted that we get to know one another to offer each other support, friendship and positive motivation during tough times as single adoptive moms. Diane and I talked about our respective adoption process. Her dossier had been in China for about a year and at the beginning, I was pursuing Nepal. When I switched to Uzbekistan, she was supportive and encouraging. We talked about why we were adopting, our expectations, timelines, etc.

I learned today that Diane had passed away this morning. She had been diagnosed with Stage 4 bile duct cancer on July 6.

Diane's obituary

A column about Diane

Obviously Nothing Is Moving with My Adoption Today (Warning: R rated)

So.. this picture was sent from a woman adopting in China.
Whoever they hired to be the translator had the last laugh, I imagine.
You can click on the photo to view it full-screen. The boo-boo is the 3rd line on the left.

Shout Out to Stacie

My 'adoption blogging' buddy Stacie, and her husband Kevin are leaving next week for Ethiopia to bring home their adorable son Micah!

They started their paperchase in January and things have been moving at lightning speed for them.

I know the next months are going to be a whirlwind for you guys but I hope you'll be updating your blog with lots of pictures.

Here's wishing you, Kevin and Micah Godspeed and a wonderful and blessed homecoming!

No Bling for Baby or Mommy

I don't know if any of you were planning on giving my daughter a bling-bling pacifier. But if so, please don't. Not only is it tacky looking, it's also frigging deadly. A thousand of these Swarvoski crystal pacifiers were recalled yesterday because the stones come loose. The crystals are held together with some cheap glue making them come off easily - thus possibly choking your little bundle of love. Moreover, crystals contain lead.

And for those of you thinking of giving me a bling-bling gift, again, please don't. Although the Swarvoski crystal vibrator hasn't been recalled, the thought of loose crystals in the woohee is not my idea of a good time.

And for your information, I'm not making this sh*t up.

Another Circus Sideshow

I think I was just too flustered and snarkingly amused to come up with any witty come backs this morning after this exchange at the courthouse getting some papers authenticated.

Edna: Hey Irene. IREEEEENE. You gotta come here.

Irene: (taking her time and shuffling over)

Edna: What's the name of the place where Dolores got her kid? The funny sounding name.

Irene: Urscaclo (my note: ????)

Edna: This young lady here is getting one herself. Is it the same place, honey?

Me: Um.. no. I'm adopting from Uzbekistan.

Irene: Ooo weee. Dolores got her child in Louisiana.

Edna: Humph. Don't think I reckon no Ubeekstan. Countries are popping up like bunnies. Now isn't that where those nude male wrestlers are from? You know, we saw the movie.

Irene: Oh Borat. That's Ka-zee-hawk-i-stan. Is that right, dear?

Me: Yes, Ka-zee-hawk-i-stan.

Edna: Do you know the Parkers from Westlake? They are adopting from the Philippines.

Me: Um, no.

Edna: I need to see your ID and your husband's

Me: It's just me.

Edna: (long silence as she looks me over long and hard) Well, don't you lose hope. You're still cute enough.

Me: Oh. Um. Thanks.

I think I'm most flabbergasted about being cute enough to still wrangle a husband. *sigh*

You had me at the 'ban on parking ticket' bit

Ohhh... who will my daughter aspire to be? Will she want to be like me? Sally Ride? Susan B. Anthony?

Here's an example of a young girl in a foreign country aspiring to be like a woman who ran for office in London. Sounds promising. Sounds like a leader, a visionary. But it's, um, Jordan (aka Katie Price). You may remember her - During the June 7, 2001 British General Election, Jordan ran as a candidate using the slogan: 'For a Bigger and Betta Future'. As part of her election campaign she promised free breast implants, increases on nudist beaches, and a ban on parking tickets.

You may also know Jordan as a model. According to Wikipedia, "Although she was already a well-established model, with frequent appearances on Page 3 and in men's lifestyle magazines, Jordan still had a feeling of insecurity about her breast size, and believed that implants would look better. Her cup size increased from a B to a D. Jordan appeared in six volumes of Playboy's Book of Lingerie and has also graced the covers of FHM, Maxim, Nuts, Front, Zoo Weekly, Sky, Esquire, Loaded and Ice magazines."

((My note: there's a magazine called Nuts????))

Anyhow.. back to the young girl.


Sasha Bennington (pictured above) of the UK wants to be just like Jordan. She is only 11 and gets spray-tanned once a week, gets fake nails done once a month, bleaches her hair blonde, gets hair extensions and plucks her eyebrows.

“I’m obsessed with Jordan. I want to be a model like her when I grow up. I want to be famous and get loads of money.”

What does her mother think of all of this? She's ok with it and thinks that those who have a problem with it are just jealous. Jayne, the mother, said, “They’re just do-gooders who probably have fat kids that they can’t do anything with. We’re a good-looking family — she can’t help being good-looking. I just want her to use it to achieve something.”

Sasha already has body issues at the age of 11. She said, “I just want to be pretty because then people will like me. I think I’m fat, everyone else says I’m not, that I’m as skinny as a twig. I worry about what I eat. I don’t want to put on weight and then not be able to lose it.”

Jayne also thinks it's ok for her daughter to show a little skin and dress the way she does. She also allows Sasha to decorate her room with the PLAYBOY bunny logo “Sasha likes the bunny. I don’t think she sees it as anything erotic but she knows Jordan modelled for Playboy and thinks that’s cool.”

Oh Jayne, Jayne, Jayne. What scares me is that Sasha just might be the next Jordan. And seriously honey, that's NOT a good thing.

Lap Dancing for Dollars

Some people are cheap and tacky. They will sell the leftover scrap of whatever dignity they have left for a few measely dollars. You can scrape their pride off the bottom of the urine-stenched barrel and they'll still eek out a dance for whatever pathetic soul is willing to fork over a couple of bucks so he can get his cheap and medically-infected thrill and the dancer can feed her kids or habit...whichever is hungrier.

I, on the other hand, am sick and tired of that song-and-dance. I've got too many wrinkles and too many rolls of fat to get even the horniest guy to toss a dime my way. In order to survive this dog-eat-dog world, I've got to be more creative. Therefore, I pledge to lap (as in laptop) dance for a few clicks on the Google ads you see on the right hand side. Just click on them every time you visit. It's for a worthy cause. It'll pay for my daughter's plane ticket to the USA.

And for your patronage, here's your lap(top) dance.