One week

WE’ve been in Poland for one week. I’m feeling slightly overwhelmed tonight so I’ll just do what I do: write and hope I come to some sort of point. I might or might not.

When we left the orphanage, we got a bag of food (more about that in a minute) and the one toy Violet owns- a stuffed raccoon that plays music when you pull this  wooden disc that comes from the raccoon’s bum (I question the placement every time I pull it, but WHAT. EVER). It was her single possession in the world.

Also when we left, everyone cried. And not only teary happy sad crying, but there was also downright sobbing. Then I cried.Violet was already crying, Lev was holding his fingers in his ears, and Alex was laughing at him and me. Then later I cried when I realized that Violets little friend O was all by herself because all her friends got  adopted and she’s still waiting for her parents to be able to come back and get her. And now I’m super stressed about that. Also, I want the girls to hang out while we’re here.

The big bag of food, which was all this formula like stuff, came with a schedule, and various instructions, some of them strange: no mushrooms until she’s 5. What? Ok.. NO clear juices. No sugar. Now cow’s milk. Just let her eat only this stuff. Oh, and feed her at 10 PM, when she’s asleep. Sure, orphanage. WHATEVER. This is the girl who does what Lev does, goes where he goes, and wants what he has.  We immediately came home changed clothes Skyped with the grandparentals, and gave Violet ice cream. She loves cookies and cream. Normally I follow the rules, but poor Violet has been eating mush since she was born, and I felt like it was high time she experienced the high life. She’s mostly rejected everything in the bag except the morning and evening formula ( and she wont even take the morning formula right now anymore) and basically just eats what we eat. She uses a spoon better than Lev, but he beasts her in the fork wielding category. I feel like her basic mentality was, “I broke outta this joint, so take that orphanage food! Except you, bedtime bottle. I’m still into you a bit. But only a bit.”

We got to meet Lady judge in person at our custody hearing (most people i know dont go to this… but we have Lady Judge, so of course we had to show up.) Of course, all the super crazy people are always beautiful and she was no exception. And she was crazy. She kept me up there quizzing me for 20 minutes about stuff like my graduate degrees and why I wanted to adopt. She calls up Alex, he answers her with his 10 words of Polish, she gets super excited about that, and lets him sit down 3 minutes later after asking him what he does for work. I was like, “Wow. Cray Cray.” Then she says, “ok well, we’ll deliberate now.” Deliberate what LadyJudge? And why does it take 30 minutes to do it? Then she’s making us have 2 court visits (most people only have one) before the final court date, which she changed to a day earlier, which inconveniences EVERYONE. Even my friend who was coming to stay with the kids during the final court date. So WHATEVER Ladyjudge! If I outlast your cray cray, I win.  And I’m the girl who navigated an IRS adoption audit while singlehandedly assembling a dossier, and came out with her still on straight. So bring it. I’ll still win. I’m confident of this.

Today it was raining and we were out walking to the store with our sad umbrellas, and a car came by and we know the driver saw us but we all got soaked because the car ran through a giant puddle. Lev cried, Violet laughed, then gave us stink eye, and Alex was stunned a polish person would actually do that. “People never used to act like that here.” Well, maybe he was the only one.

Two last things:

Nuns are mean. More than one nun here has given me stink eye for pretty much no reason other than being in their line of sight, and now I’m sort of afraid of them. Also, I’m convinced that nuns never actually die. They just go sit in a library somewhere and stop talking. There are some old OLD nuns here.

Also, don’t take the potatoes the little old ladies in the grocery store wants. She’ll follow you for 2 aisles rebuking you in polish until you give her the potatoes. This is a true story. I make sure I’m by myself at the potato box now.  I’ve been to Poland several times now and each time a nun gives me stink eye, and I make a little old lady angry. But I still love Poland. I think those things are just par for the course. And more exceptions to the rule that Polish people are actually super nice and friendly.

Finally:

I’m very happy violet is finally with us. SHe’s a great addition to our family, and I like waking up knowing she’s just in the other room. Giant load off my shoulders there. I am so so glad that we didn’t turn down her referral. I still don’t like that there were 4 kids her room at the orphanage who don’t have parents yet. That actually really bothers me, because only one of those kids has a moderate to severe condition that I bet could be easily alleviated in the US with therapy and the right medications. The other 3 kids are just so amazing and firendly and sweet, and I hope that people who see their faces in referrals don’t reject them because of how they came to be in the orphanage. I think I’ll write more about this later, though.

 

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