No, Virginia, There Isn’t A Santa Claus

"No, Virginia, There Isn’t A Santa Claus."

That’s what my parents told me growing up, and I never could understand why they called me “Virginia.” Besides that, I was cool with it. The presents you get at Christmas were from your parents, grandparents, friends, and other folk who worked hard for the money for it, and cared enough about you to get what you wanted. You didn’t have to tell Santa that you wanted a six-foot-long Brontosaurus stuffed animal because you already told your mom and she was buying it (or sewing it herself like mine did, two years in a row, because the first one was loved into extinction). It wasn’t about being a relatively good boy or relatively bad one, it was about being loved even if you were a bit of a shit. Which of course I wasn’t, but I could have been for all you know.

Re: Santa Claus, my little brother and I were told the story, but it wasn’t any different than being told the story of Peter Pan, King Arthur, the Cat in the Hat, Winnie the Pooh, Alice in Wonderland, Br’er Rabbit, Snow White, Eloise, Bilbo Baggins, and all the other characters who are fictional but whose stories have worth. (Actually, an aside, my mom would say King Arthur was probably based on a British commander with a Roman name who fought the Anglo-Saxons in the late 5th or early 6th century, but I digress) The guy who lives in the North Pole with elves and Mrs. Claus and Rudolf and occasionally Frosty when that special aired and hung out in malls, we were told all about that, because to be in ignorance of that is to be a freak. We were told that many kids believed that Santa was real because that’s what their mommies and daddies taught them.

And that was fine. We had friends who were Jewish, Quaker, Christian Scientist, Catholic, and a whole bunch of other beliefs we didn’t share, but we weren’t to make fun of them for that. This was the original early 70s Sesame Street debuts multicultural “Free To Be You & Me” generation, after all.

So, there was no trauma about that growing up. Adults hearing that I was raised as a Santatheist, however, tend to be horrified more often than not. It is as if I were abused or at least pulled from my childhood fantasies to the cold realities of life too soon. I don’t know. I certainly wouldn’t discourage any parents from telling their kids that Santa is real, if both parties get some enjoyment out of it. But will I do that for my kids when I have them? I don’t know either.

We do have a tree, and some stockings by the fireplace, and lights on the house. And though it’s looking unlikely that we’ll have a child in time to share this Christmas with, we are pretty certain we’ll have one or more for next. And like so many other things, we’ll figure out what to do on this issue when the time comes.

For the time being, though, you can hear me exclaim as I drive out of sight, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

Keeping Walking

“If we are facing in the right direction, all we have to do is keep walking.” – Buddhist proverb

How do you update a blog when nothing’s happening? I feel like I need to have an update at least monthly, but honestly, if you want to hear about any news or development, you can stop reading now.

Ian and I were touched by the reaction to the last blog. I think it had become understood that we would be getting the twins, and it would be a lot of work, but we would handle it. But that’s not how it turned out, it seems. It would have been heart-breaking if we had actually met G. and J., but the fact that we could let them go is evidence in itself that we made the right decision.

We’ve received a couple phone calls about potential matches since then, so we know we’re still on the agency’s list, even if they haven’t been right. We still have a little dream about getting a baby for Christmas.

In the meantime, we’re just a couple months away from my brother and sister-in-law having their first child, a girl. They’re in a flurry of baby-showers and birth classes and name debates, which is fabulous to participate in, as uncles-to-be.

I’m still expecting that sometime in December or January, the novel will be published online, but we’re still figuring out the contract. So that might not happen. I’m still looking into other publishing options.

All of this is to say that there’s no real news or development. No news isn’t bad news, it really is just no news.

It’s like sitting on a powder keg watching lines of the slowest black powder fuse inching their way closer, knowing everything is going to explode eventually. Hmm, maybe the Buddhist quote about walking is a nicer way of putting it.

The Latest (and Last) On The Twins

Today, we talked to our social worker and told her that we would not be taking the twins. It was a hard decision. For three months now, we have been fighting to get information on them that we knew their pediatricians had, while we window-shopped for all the twin accessories and imagining the wonderful, impossible tasks ahead. We had begun reading “Raising Emotional Healthy Twins,” concentrating on the philosophy to think of them as two children rather than “the twins.” (Obviously, that never completely stuck) We had talked to pediatricians and specialists about the children’s known medical issues, and there are some esoteric subjects on pediatric endocrinology we could claim amateur expert status at discussing.

Days, weeks, and months went by, and we still couldn’t get satisfactory answers to our questions. It was probably selfish of us to hold on for as long as we did, when the twins might be placed with other prospective parents less concerned with some of these medical issues. We also know that if we waited any longer, it would be harder to place the children so near the holiday season.

Our social worker assures us this case was unusual, and that saying no to this particular match won’t muck up our chances of getting another match with another child or children. For not being religious, we are curiously fatalistic – we will get the right kids for our family when the time is right.

And the twins, G. and J., will get the home they deserve. With all our heart, we wish them well.

On The Brink

Something’s gonna happen, I just don’t know what or when.

I haven’t updated the blog at all this September because while things are progressing on the novel and baby fronts, they were progressing slowly and I kept hoping to have some announcement to make. Instead, out of a sense of obligation to have at least one new blog post each month, consider this a situational overview.

On the novel front, I’ve been contacted by a new online literary magazine about serializing the novel, publishing two chapters every month for eight months starting at the end of this year. Can’t talk too much more about that except that they’ve sent me a contract and it’s in the hands of my agent and lawyers.

On the baby front, well, something will undoubtedly happen in the next week. The major frustration has been getting straight answers about potential medical issues. Apparently, until we’re at least foster parents, we’re not supposed to talk to directly to the twins’ doctors, so we’re forced to play the world’s slowest game of 21 questions, sending them to our social worker, who sends them to the county social worker, who sends them to the doctor, who has his nurse practitioner answer them. Or not answer them. And then begins the follow-up questions, including questions about why previous questions weren’t answered.

Next week, they have a doctor’s appointment, and we’re sending the questions once again, hoping they get answered with fresh eyes. If they do, and even if they don’t, something will happen in October because we really have to say Yes or No now.

And thus concludes the no-news-is-good-news update.

The County Of Los Angeles Deems Them "Cute"

I have pictures of the twins, but I don’t think it’s appropriate to share them on a public blog, particularly since they aren’t ours … yet. But damn, are they cute. Trust me on this. Or you could trust the official statement of the County of Los Angeles on the matter on their adorability. From the report we were given today on the girl:

Current caregiver perceives child as: happy, easy going

CSW perceives child as: cute, curious

And on the boy:

Current caregiver perceives child as: happy, stubborn

CSW perceives child as: curious and loving.

Both are also describes as “very affectionate.” So the huge smiles in the photos are not just for the camera.

We’re sending the reports on to some pediatricians to see if there are any notes back from them. The next step will be to meet them at their foster home … and then, to take them home.

It may just be a matter of a few weeks now. Oh, boy. And girl.

Twin & Tonic

So we just got off the phone with our social worker after her meeting with county social workers. Overall, more good stuff than bad. Our concern about the twins not being developmentally on target is largely gone. Since we last talked, they are not only sitting on their own, they’re crawling, cooing, engaged and interested in everything, and sleeping through the night. Who knows, they might be walking soon too.

On the bad side: the mom right now is in rehab, so she sees the kids for 3 hours every Sunday. The county social workers say this is the usual pattern, but once she’s finished with rehab, she’s likely to disappear altogether. The other annoying bit is that the judge on the case is “very thorough,” which our social worker says means parental rights won’t likely be terminated very soon. On the other hand, the county social workers are adamant that the twins shouldn’t be given back to the mother … who, by the way, is pregnant again. Our social worker still consider this a “low risk” case as far as reunification goes. It just might take a while.

So, we said to sign us up for the next appointment, where we meet with the kids’ social worker … I believe we see a photo!

Other than that, looking forward to our 3-day-weekend which begins to tomorrow. In Vegas baby!

Ian says he’s going to “invest” $20 on slots because babies need new pairs of shoes!

Careful What You Wish For

I was in the gym this morning, when I got the voice message from our social worker, “You and Ian have been selected as parents for the twins. I’m going to give Ian a call now.”

What followed was a series of attempted phone calls between me, Ian, and our social worker. I was on my cell phone getting bad reception in the gym garage, Ian was dealing with work phone calls, and Kitaho was en route between home and work herself. And then there was my brother and sister-in-law calling in because they knew today we were supposed to get the news, even though we had assured them that since the other family had been waiting for children longer than we have, the odds were that we wouldn’t have good news.

So finally, we all connected. It seems that the twins have more medical issues than we thought, and we’re looking into the seriousness and treatability. They are not developmentally where 11 month old children should be, but that is not unusual for preemies. Once we get the medical records, we’ll know whether they’re progressing or if the issues are serious. And the parental rights have not yet been terminated, though that seems to be the direction things are headed. On the plus side, the kids are apparently mentally and emotionally on target, and particularly giggly.

Next step is another, more detailed meeting about the kids and their needs with a larger group of social workers, and when we get the information on that, we’ll know what all is likely to be involved with taking care of them. And then, if we think we can handle it and want to proceed, we’ll meet them in a couple weeks.

Very excited, but on information overload. It’s a lot to process, thinking about dealing with major medical issues for one child, let alone two, so we’re still a bit cautious until we have more details.

Still – I think champagne’s called for. (But then again, isn’t that always true?)