Sickness, Smiles, and Squeaky Shoes (or lack thereof)

Before I begin this post, I just have to tell you how much we enjoy your comments--and just knowing that our family and friends and fellow adoption friends at home are following along. This journey can be a little lonely, especially as we head into our second week here. As much as we enjoy Guangzhou, we're pretty ready to go home to Michael's big brother and settle into a routine as a family of four. So thank you for following along!

Yesterday afternoon, after Michael took a beautiful nap, we took a taxi to Shamian Island. Riding a taxi in China is living life on the edge. No car seats, no seatbelts, cars flying at you from every side, and drivers who sail across three lanes at a time. It's almost like riding the Knight Bus--not that I've ever ridden it--but the taxi fits through impossibly small spaces without a bump (at least so far). Michael was unperturbed.

We went back to visit Dong at Susan's Place and I bargained so hard for a tablecloth and some Chinese blouses that after I left I felt a little guilty. But he could have said no. We are getting pretty shopped out and we still have a few days to go. Dong told us that Michael is speaking Cantonese, as we had suspected, and he translated something Michael said about wanting to get down and run around. I'm surprised he didn't say Michael said he wanted to buy more toys! Michael was scared of a cat in Dong's shop, which is not a problem for us in our pet-free house. I wonder whether he had ever seen a cat.

We tried to buy squeaky shoes for Michael, but his feet are so big that we have limited choices. (They seem to make them mostly for girls and for babies.) And I refuse to buy drab squeaky shoes. Shouldn't squeaky shoes have characters on them? Or be a fun color? These tiger shoes (seen above) did fit him, but they don't squeak. And I don't understand Chinese children's shoe sizes. He came to us wearing a 17, the orange shoes we bought the other day are a size 25, and Dong was trying to sell us 18s and 19s. Maybe the numbers are meaningless? I may never know.

John and Scott--another adoptive dad--headed over to the discount electronics market and Sue--Scott's wife--and I hit a few other shops. We didn't go into Michael's Place but paused for a photo, just because.

Every shopkeeper seems to have something for the kids--a package of cookies or a child-unsafe rattle you can hear a block away. Michael started opening up more and chatting about what he was seeing as we shopped. His little friend Alexis preferred the air-conditioned stores and made that known loud and clear, so we moved along quickly if a store was too hot.

I knew I would jinx us by mentioning yesterday how well Michael has been sleeping. He woke up at midnight with a terrible cough and so unhappy. I'll spare you the gory details, but I ended up having to change his clothes once, my clothes twice, and go through every clean towel in the room, all while just dealing with his cough during the night. Poor little guy. Oh, how we can't wait to get him home to a doctor. Luckily we have our friend Paul who is serving as our Internet doctor. We also have our new friends Sue and Scott, who are medical professionals and have been able to offer on-site advice--and medicine--in between caring for Alexis, their fifth child.

My theory is that John and Michael have the same cold, but I have no idea whether that's true. Sickness is rotten, but sickness today is better than sickness on a travel day, so we are trying to look on the bright side and muddle through.

Today, Michael doesn't give any indication that he's unwell--other than the horrible cough and a little less of an appetite. Here he is playing with Baba on the bed.

We have noticed that meals are getting more difficult as Michael settles in. No longer does he sit quietly and patiently, awaiting his food. He reaches for everything in sight, spills juice, drops watermelon on the floor, and has a marvelous time. It's terrific! Michael is letting us know who he is! It's also harder, of course, especially since the hotel staff here doesn't like food on the floor at breakfast. For the most part, the China Hotel staff is nice, but the White Swan staff seemed to think the children were adorable and sweet, even as they made a mess. Not so here. And we watched the service plummet when we added a child to our table on Tuesday. (Anyone who knows me knows I have mentioned this to our agency more than once and they are trying to address it.)

Personally, I wouldn't mind cleaning up the floor after a child this cute ate at my breakfast buffet.



And we're happy Michael is feeling so comfortable with us. It is so much fun watching him open up to us more and more every day.



This morning he was trotting around the hotel room saying, "Ni hoe, ni hoe, ni hoe." We assume either that's a dialectical difference on "ni hao" or it's just his own little way of saying hello in Chinese.

He has decided that when we're in the room he should get periodic snacks. (And please note the totally un-child-friendly glass tabletop here. It's a miracle that Michael doesn't have a huge bruise from the times he's bumped into it.)



He has also decided that the Mickey Mouse beach ball his Grandma bought for him for this trip is not as scary as it seemed on day one, two, or three. In fact, it's kind of fun.



(As a fun aside, I have to mention that one of Michael's little friends in the orphanage, Maia, is being adopted by a family who lives about 90 minutes from us. Maia's mom asked us to bring a few little items to their daughter since they won't be able to travel to bring her home for a few months. When I assembled her items to pass along to the orphanage, I found that Maia's mom included the exact same beach ball, completely by coincidence. I like the idea that our children will be playing with identical beach balls on opposite sides of the world. We can't wait for them to play together back in the States!)



Meanwhile, Michael--who wouldn't even walk around the room for the first couple days and wanted to be held all the time--seems to have decided that he owns the hotel room. Here he is arranging Cheerios on the chair and then eating them.



And here he is prancing around with the Cheerios bag.

Michael was so happy and at ease--and Baba was so tired and unwell--that I took our little boy down to the hotel playground.

I thought I might be able to persuade him to ride a swing or slide on a slide. No such luck. He screamed and clung to me when I tried to put him on the dolphin swing. And it's such a lovely little playground. I wish I could figure out when children play on it. If Michael could just see how much fun it could be, maybe he'd give it a try.

 

That's OK, I told him. I know just the right person to introduce you to playgrounds. He's just 7,000 miles away.

Then Michael and I walked around the courtyard together. It's a beautiful spot.

And it has a waterfall, which Michael wasn't that into.

I admired the flowers.

Michael was more impressed with the lock on the tennis court gate. If I had given him another five minutes, maybe he would have cracked it open.

But Mama being Mama, I wanted pictures of him in front of something other than a chain-link fence.

Understandably, Michael wouldn't let me put him down in this unfamiliar place.

So we just hung out together, visiting a few different spots and trying to find some shade.

I don't know whether I've mentioned it, but it's pretty hot and humid here--even for us, coming from a relatively hot, humid place in the U.S. You can probably see that Michael is sweating and this is his home province.

This afternoon Michael and John are napping--hurrah!--and I am preparing to go to a paperwork meeting with our agency. Tomorrow is free, so if my boys here in China are feeling better (and I haven't caught this bug), we'll have to figure out what we want to do.

Whatever we do, I'm hoping we'll keep seeing this little guy's smile.