The Avilla Family's own....

Adoption Adventure

Here are nine pieces I wrote to celebrate and remember some memorable moments:

(All of these are on one page, so you can scroll down to read them.)

Avillas Delivered 40-lb. Boy By C-Section….

Adoptive Father's Misuse of Language Causes Potential Emotional Trauma

First Meeting With Lise - One Year Ago Today!

Rooskie Tyke Meets Dolby Surround Sound: A True Cultural Experience

Vanya Turns 5, Learns the "W" Word

Life With Lise - Installment One

Life With Lise - Installment Two

Life With Lise - Installment Three

How We Entertained Our Child's Orphanage Director in Our Home For Four Days... and Enjoyed Doing It

Liza Doolittle Meets Saratoga: We Visit a Neighbor's Easter Party

(All of these are on one page, so you can scroll down to read them.)

On a separate page: Gilroy Dispatch Christmas Eve Article

Avillas Delivered 40-lb. Boy By C-Section….
(From early October 1997)
Monday night at 5:30 p.m., Kerry and David Avilla received delivery of their son, 4 1/2 year old Vanya Viktor Avilla, by Coach Section of Aeroflot flight 810 from Moscow.

After nine months of paperwork, planning, and preparation, our first sighting of Vanya was from the second level observation deck above the International baggage claim area at San Francisco Airport. He had his red backpack strapped on and smiled broadly up through the glass at the waving crowd of family members gathered for the occasion. We all noted how calmly he stood with his escort, not even shifting his position as he waited patiently at the luggage carousel.

He hasn't stood still for a moment since then. I feel like I'm living in a House of Horrors. Lights go on and off, bathroom fans start and stop, doors and cupboards slam shut, and the bathroom faucet runs incessantly, all simultaneously controlled by a 4 1/2 year old that seems to be everywhere at the same time. There is even the raucous random batting of the mylar balloons we brought back from the airport welcome to add the shock of the unexpected. (Kerry and I both agreed a couple mornings ago that the annoying sound from the balloons being swatted was on a par with fingernails on a chalkboard but we decided to let the gradually deflating orbs die a natural death from pre-schooler abuse.)

The noise level in our home has at least quadrupled since Vanya's arrival: his normal boy noises, the yammering and giggling that goes on constantly between him and 2 3/4 year old Lise, and the frequent bursts of crying from Lise as her structured toddler world is shattered unwittingly by our new family addition. How can he know that she is always the first one up the stairs, and that Lise always gets to open the front door, and that the Sesame Street figures go a certain way in the toy cars? She got the program down fast, though, and surprised us at bedtime the second night by telling Vanya "No talking!". But she has been so excited about having him as a playmate that she's the one who has continued to jabber during naptime long after he falls asleep. In fact, tonight he wandered out of his bedroom asking where Lise was. She had fallen asleep and I had to lead him to her bed to show her laying there to prove to him that his sister was, in fact, in his bedroom!

When people ask me how he is adjusting, I tell them we are *all* adjusting. Kerry has borne the burden of establishing the boundaries and enforcing the rules. Her patience and consistency dealing with the kids has amazed me. She points out to me that she hasn't lost a battle yet. I tell her "Honey, I'm glad you're on my side"!

Adoptive Father's Misuse of Language Causes Potential Emotional Trauma
(From October 1997)
I forgot to mention something that occurred during our reunion meeting at the airport on September 29th with our four and a half year old son, Vanya. He had just made his way through customs with the orphanage doctor that had escorted him from Khabarovsk. Our family entourage had been waiting over an hour. As he came through the swinging doors at San Francisco International Airport Immigration, Kerry and two and a half year old Lise and I came up to him with balloons and smiles and hugs. I made an effort to welcome our new family member by expressing my heartfelt sentiments in his native language. "Das Vidanya. Das Vidanya, Vanya!" After repeating numerous times the Russian phrase "Das Vidanya", the woman from the agency that had accompanied us to serve as translator, hurriedly broke away from her discussion with Vanya's escort and excitedly warned me "You're telling him "Goodbye"!!! Say "Preveet" instead".

It may be years before we know what lasting emotional trauma my misused language may have caused. In the meantime I am sticking with "Da" and "Nyet"...


First Meeting With Lise - One Year Ago Today!
(From January 1998)
Today we are remembering and celebrating the first day we met our Elisaveta in far-away eastern Russia!

Kerry and I had just bustled into the "Big Room" at the Baby Home in Khabarovsk, Russia, still busily removing jackets, gloves, and boots, two couples and our entourage chattering excitedly in anticipation of our first meetings with our young daughters. In the midst of all the activity, the door at the far end of the hall opened and a white-coated nurse led little 26-month old Lise unnoticed toward the group. The collection of parents-to-be, translators, drivers, and staff turned as one to focus on the calm little dark-haired toddler approaching us. Our only pictures had been a couple polaroids taken almost a year before. "Is this Lise?" I asked, even as her name was being whispered on the lips of the translators. I knelt down as she approached and then she was standing in front of me, calmly holding the hand of the nurse, looking up into my face. During that moment we were first meeting, I can recall the sweeping wonder of thoughts about this little child that we didn't know, yet had traveled half way around the world to meet. We had seen her picture. We knew a little about her circumstances and her health. But what about the little person inside the red wool dress with the yellow bow in her hair? What was Lise really like? The splendor of this moment was knowing that our wonder was about to be replaced and soon we would know who this child was that was about to become inextricably part of the rest of our lives. It was magical, it was emotional, it was a most memorable four hours. We doted on every little mannerism, delighted in every smile, and developed a growing bond with the child who now is a sparkle of our days with her laughter and her spirit.


Rooskie Tyke Meets Dolby Surround Sound: A True Cultural Experience
(From Summer of 1997)
Recently my wife and I took our two and a half year old Lise (here since late January from Khabarovsk) to an appointment where we were being presented with options for a new tract home that is being built for us. This particular meeting was for alarm systems, intercom systems, and built-in stereo speakers and wiring. Kerry and I mostly nodded politely as we were presented with stuff that was not on our "upgrade budget". Meanwhile, Lise liked opening the little doors on the alarm display unit with the lifelike audible alert: "Your front door is open", "Your garage door is open". Pretty fun entertainment for her.

Then we were lead into the "home theater" room and nestled ourselves in two comfortable chairs, with Lise standing between us. The room was dim, "Dark!", as we had been informed by our little tour guide when we walked in. A huge screen hung on the wall in front of us and a rear projection unit flicked on with a DVD (Digital Video Disk) of "Toy Story". "Here, let me show you the introduction" our host offered. His fingers rotated the volume knob until the full effect of a premium home theater rumbled through the six surround-sound speakers. Lise squeezed my finger tightly. She didn't know what to expect. The sound seemed to move in front of us from left to right, then sounded like it whisked over us to the right rear corner of the room. Her head jerked back as she looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of the life-like sound. Then the sound leapt to the left rear corner and Lise spun around with her eyes wide open. She followed the sound in a complete circle as it moved back to the front speakers. Then onscreen appears an adult-sized image of lovable Woody, speaking the opening lines of the movie. In a sudden revelation, Lise, who had only been exposed to a Woody action figure from McDonalds, blurts out "Woody! He talks!".

Yep, kid, welcome to America!

Vanya Turns 5, Learns the "W" Word
(From February 1998)
Vanya turned five last week and we celebrated with the cake of his choice (white on white with colored sprinkles) and presents disbursed throughout the day. It wasn't as big as Christmas, but I trust he felt our special joy sharing his birthday with him.

Then, it seems like the day after he turned five, he started using the "W" word. Why? Why, Papa? Why, Mama? I didn't realize how bad it was until Saturday when I took Vanya and Lise out with me to do errands. Three hours later I returned and commented to Kerry, "Where did this Why stuff come from? Where did he learn that?" Apparently she had already referred to her "Pre-School Years Parenting" guidebook because she replied "Oh, that's age-appropriate behavior". Now saying something is "age-appropriate" behavior is the same as granting a carte blanche to the kid to continue using the W word until it borders on parent abuse. I wonder what "age-appropriate" behavior is for a forty-something father driven to frustration by a pre-schooler that has just learned about a new verbal weapon in the war between the generations?

Imagine trying to explain "why" answers to a child that has just recently learned basic English language concepts. It challenges my own thought processes to form a reasonable reply that he might understand. Sometimes I just look at him and say "Because"... Actually, it hasn't taken long to grasp a few key concepts in answering his questions clearly and concisely. He understands about danger and "bad manners". That covers a lot of the Why questions. And there's always the old fall-back position "Because I'm the Papa".

Kerry told me at dinner tonight that she had asked Vanya "Why?" three times in a row to try and see if *he* could come up with a good answer to the Why question. His final reply, "Because Vanya wants to!" Now that certainly sounds "age-appropriate"!

Life With Lise - Installment One
(Posted April 20, 1997, home three months)
Kerry and Lise left a little while ago to attend the gift shower the church ladies are putting on for us - and I feel like a batter with two strikes on him. First, when I was giving Lise a bath tonight in preparation for the party, she slipped in the tub and hit the ceramic soap dish on the bathtub wall so hard with her head that the tile dish fell off the wall into the water. Then, when I was putting her into her car seat and snapping the buckle into place, she had her finger down there trying to help and got it pinched - big tears and subdued look on her face, even after liberal hugs and kisses applied to the pinched pinkie. A great way to send her to the big party, where she's supposed to confirm in all the ladies' minds what a charming child she is. Instead, she looked like a whipped puppy. Oh, well…

And so I open my first report on Life With Lise. The past two months have been a joy and every day brings new changes in our ex-orphan-turned-Silicon-Valley-girl. Many of you are probably curious how an institutionalized toddler will adjust to a completely different culture, language, and caregivers - overnight! I don't know generally, but I can tell you about *our* experience with Lise, and it has been an enjoyable adjustment. Instead of giving you the details in an outline format: language acquisition, bonding, adjustment, etc., let me tell you some anecdotes from the past two months in the hope that you can get a better idea of what Life with Lise is like, and share our joy with us.

Movie Critic
I was at an evening going-away party three weeks ago for a couple in our church. During the course of the dinner banter, the group of about ten friends in the room I was with began discussing movies they had seen recently. As the conversationalists around the room took their turn relating the "thumbs up" and thumbs down" features they had seen, I pondered my own recent movie-going experience. At a break in the chatter I made my contribution: "My wife and I have seen a great video the past couple weeks. In fact we've seen it about fifty times." I stood up and walked across the room as I delivered my punchline - "It's called Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree"…

Then there is the whole Sesame Street thing. When we first arrived home with Lise, we would turn the videos on and she barely paid attention. Probably because she didn't understand what they were saying. And Baby Bear scared her. But pretty soon she would stand in front of the TV for the complete 20 minutes of "Do The Alphabet". We had to put the piano bench in front of the TV so she wouldn't get gamma ray-ed to death from standing 12" from the screen. After a few weeks she began asking for "ABD" and pointing to the TV. By then I had perfected my Baby Bear imitation of "I feel really alphabety after that song!" There's a segment where Baby Bear "turns into" the real Billy Joel and plays the piano while singing The Alphabet Song. He's wearing sunglasses. She points to him every time and says "Papa!" Thanks, kid! Sometimes we sing along with the songs and dance with her, but our real goal is to enjoy watching her imitate the characters on the video. She's our star!

Kaka No Paka
The Russian word for "See you later" is "Paka". The toilet routine is a constant source of wonderment and entertainment for Lise. She gets to sit on the big blue seat (that fits over the top of the regular seat. By the way, her little white orphanage-like tot pot got tossed aside weeks ago for the upscale, elevated perch on the seat Mommy uses), she gets to wipe herself, put the toilet paper in the toilet, then with the help of Mommy or Daddy, pull the lever to flush the toilet. Then there's the peer over into the toilet bowl to watch everything magically vanish, usually while waving and saying "Paka". Pretty entertaining stuff for an ex-orphan! Well, one night we had a "floater" that got flushed once, twice, three times - four times! before it would go "Paka". Lise actually had this surprised, shocked look on her face the third flush and was starting to whimper with fear on the fourth flush. That's how we named that episode "Kaka No Paka"…

Well, that's the first installment. As a quick background, Lise returned with us January 28 (age 2 years, 2 months) and has caused me to coin the phrase "deliriously delightful" to reply to the question "How is Lise?".

LIfe With Lise - Installment Two
(Posted April 22, 1997)
Signs of Higher Intelligence -The Use of Tools: Almost a Breakout!
There was a 6-foot slat in the back of her closet from the pull-down shade that she somehow retrieved and was walking around the house with. Before I could get downstairs, she had found she could touch the kitchen chandelier with it and used the stick to get it swinging and turning. But I was really impressed when she pulled her little plastic table over to the child gate on her door during naptime and tried to climb out to "freedom". Kerry was hiding from view on one side of the door and I was on the other, and we quietly laughed as we watched her shadow putting first one leg over, then trying the other leg, but not quite going all the way. Once, when we weren't looking, she made it all the way over. We had gone to her room to wake her up from her nap, and she wasn't in the room! Lise!, Lise! She padded out from our room with a sash of toilet paper wrapped around her. After that, we raised the gate a few inches off the floor, hopefully too high to climb over…

Into Everything
Lise came into our bedroom while I was shaving and before I knew it, had taken the little razor head-cleaning brush out of the drawer and was using it to brush her hair, just before we left for an Olan Mills photo sitting. If the gate on the stairs is left open for a moment, she makes a beeline for it. Same with our bedroom door. I put "childproof" cabinet door locks on the Tupperware cupboard in the kitchen that allow them to be opened only about an inch and a half. I caught her the other day with her arm through that small opening, pulling lids out onto the kitchen floor.

Imagination
She has taken up residence in her closet the past few days. Goes in there, closes the door all the way and just sits for a few seconds. Then slowly opens the door and peeks out. Sometimes I'm there kneeling down to smile at her as the door slides between our faces. I haven't figured out that one yet...

Let me end with this. We were playing with her Dalmatian puppy hand-puppet the other day and she suddenly says "Kaka" pointing to the hand-opening at the bottom of the puppet. Then she turns and heads into the bathroom. I think I better follow her to watch this. She puts her toilet seat cover on the toilet, then holds Puppy over the hole, while I tactfully also hold Puppy to make sure he doesn't go "swimming". Then she declares "All done", then wants to flush the toilet. Well, as we turn to leave, she sees her other tot-pot in the corner and decides Puppy has more business to do, so she plops him into the pot (luckily it was clean) and puts her finger to her ear and raises her eyebrows, the way we do for her when she is about to go. I ran to get the camera…

A note on developments with Vanya. We accepted Lise's referral last August, then learned in November that she had an older brother and three older sisters in orphanages. We confirmed in January after meeting, playing, and working with Vanya, (he was at the same orphanage as Lise) that we wanted to adopt him. Paperwork is plodding along and we are expecting that he will join our family in July or August.


Life With Lise - Installment Three
(Posted April 23, 1997)
Little Miss Muffet
I would say that Lise is a pretty observant little girl for a two year old. She always hears airplanes and can immediately point to them "EePee". And for the first couple weeks in the car she would notice every large truck, point at it, and let out this long and dramatic "OOOooooo". And she can spot a dog or cat across the parking lot and track it like an eagle (afraid of them close up). She also notices every baby we come across: "Lala", then recently "Beebee" she says, pointing. The same with bicycles - "By". But I really had to hand it to her when we were at the park a couple weeks ago and I sat her on the tire swing and she immediately pulled her feet back and pointed, moaning at the underside of the swing. I bent over and saw the tiniest spider, smaller than an ant, dangling from the inside of the tire. Okay, okay, let me get it. Geese… Well, there is one place where these finely tuned observation skills come in handy - Easter egg hunting! Several weeks ago (about six weeks before Easter) at an extended family gathering, I brashly stood up during dinner and announced a challenge to my brother-in-law, tossing a fiver on the table: "I say my two-year old can beat your two-year old at the Easter egg hunt". My sister quipped back "Hey, Celine has already done the Easter egg hunt for two years!". But Kerry got in the real punchline: "Yeah, but Lise has been stealing from her classmates for two years!" And just to make sure she wins, we have established a rigorous training schedule each night after dinner, when I hide a dozen plastic eggs for her to hunt for. Place your bets!…

Father-Daughter Dates
There's nothing like a doting daughter to make a father's mid-life crisis disappear. I took Lise down to the school to play on the climbing apparatus. But she helped herself instead to a basketball that was idle. With the owners' permission, we kicked it all over the basketball court. Then I picked it up, bounced it a few times, and, with my best form, looped it up for a sinker. Lise laughed and clapped her hands! Then she ran to the other end of the court, pointing to the hoop there. Every time the ball went in she would get excited and pump her legs and stick her tongue out and clap and squeal. We trotted around and around to the hoops on four courts until I finally distracted her by throwing the ball way up in the air. I wouldn't trade that time for a stand full of cheering fans…

Strength and Security
I noticed when we first got home that when I held her thighs and lifted her up over my head, she was unsteady and would keep her hands on my shoulders. The past few weeks she is able to keep herself upright as I raise her. This has opened up new vistas. She has touched the ceiling, touched the plastic panels on the fluorescent lights in the kitchen, and reached up to touch a basketball net. Last night she realized that saying "Up" and "Down" will control the elevator ride…When I throw her up over my head, she has always kept her arms tightly close to her body so she doesn't get completely "airborne". The past week I noticed that she was holding a little looser, and I got my hands away a few times - to looks of combined fear (on the way up) and excitement (on the way down). We'll keep working on that one.

As a closing note, life's pace has been in a time warp since we returned in late January. My wife Kerry, (nicknamed "The Organizer", aka "Filer"), has been in a permanent state of "Organization Withdrawal". Symptoms: Groaning, moaning, statements like: "My office is such a mess I can't find anything!", "When will we ever get the Thank You notes done!", and "I have no idea what to fix for dinner!". Thankfully, the reason behind all this is sweet Lise, who gets the full-time attention of two doting parents that both "work" out of the home. We are adjusting to the fact that our "To Do Lists" have become "Dream Lists", but we are enjoying caring for Lise and creating a loving family with her. We'll keep you all posted regarding developments with Lise, Vanya, and plans for the three older sisters.


How We Entertained Our Child's Orphanage Director in Our Home For Four Days and Enjoyed Doing It
(Posted April 24, 1997)
(Background - One of the other two families we traveled with to Khabarovsk in January had chosen to have their daughter escorted back to the United States after the 10-day waiting period. The orphanage director made the trip to Moscow with their child to get the visa, then flew to Maryland last weekend to meet the parents and visit the adoption agency. Since it was her first time in the States, she also made a trip to New York for a couple days to visit the office there and meet the agency's international team. Kerry and I had met her briefly in Khabarovsk and when I heard that she was going to be making the trip, I suggested that instead of making two longs flights back (New York to Moscow, Moscow to Khabarovsk) that she fly to San Francisco and we would host her for a couple days of sightseeing and visiting other families in the Bay Area. She speaks no English (and we speak no Russian - Quick! Get the dictionaries out again!) Now on to the story…

My first suggestion for creating a great experience is to wait until at least six weeks after you return from your trip to Russia to entertain houseguests. We didn't do that, (just two and a half weeks back) so we ended up getting our Christmas decorations put away just a couple days before the Director's visit. (But I guess that's okay, because the orphanage had their Christmas decorations up until about January 20th during our visit there.) And we never did show her our upstairs loft and office for fear that our image as pristine homemakers would be ruined. We kept the child-gate on the stairs closed as much as a deterrent to her as to our two-year old…But before I start rambling, let me point out my three major areas of concern and how I swerved into ways of successfully handling them:
- Language Translation
- Meals
- Entertainment

Language Translation - I literally did *swerve* into how to handle this one. I had just picked up the Director from the airport in Oakland about noon Thursday and was heading back to the freeway for an afternoon driving tour of San Francisco. She asked me a simple question and I grabbed my handy sidekick Russian-English dictionary to look up my response (using infinitive verbs and nouns in the nominative case). Well, flipping through a dictionary and negotiating a freeway on-ramp are a challenge when done simultaneously. She grabbed the dictionary from me, closed it on her lap, and didn't ask me any more questions for a while. I just drove fast and pointed to things along the way. Language translation? No problem! Another thing that worked for me was to get the home number of one of the translators at Cradle of Hope agency for "Dial-a-Translator" assistance at all hours. "Hello, Gallina, she is saying something about 'sport clothes' and I want to make sure I understand what she wants to buy". Hey, it worked great! I called Gallina to go over the agenda with the Director, too, to make sure she knew what to expect. It's difficult to carry on a conversation about conceptual ideas, like economics or politics, which I would have really enjoyed, but most "practical maintenance" questions for everyday living can be asked with the help of a dictionary. And finally, after three days together, I wanted to thank her and tell her how much I appreciated her accepting our offer to visit our home and some Bay Area adoptive families. Standing in line at the Aeroflot ticket counter in San Francisco, I looked around and realized 'Hey, there's a whole line full of potential translators here!' I approached the most friendly looking person and asked them to translate for me. It worked great! Better than saying "Spaseeba, spaseeba" (Thank you, thank you) and hoping she felt my sentiment.

The second concern I had was Food. Most days for lunch I have a fruit smoothie and Kerry eats like a bird. I didn't think that would be honoring to her: 'Here, suck on this straw" or "How about some Pepperidge Farms cheese goldfish?" Nyet. Well, I stumbled onto an easy solution to this problem… Let *other* people feed your visitor! We had lunch Friday and Saturday at families that had adopted Russian orphans and the food was great! Friday's spread included appetizers, homemade rolls, succulent roast, champagne, and dessert. Saturday's lunch at Sue Elsom's was an outstanding lentil/chard soup with a diced pepper/veggie salad and Honey Baked ham. By the time we would get home at night and mention dinner, the Director was begging for mercy: "Zakooska!, Zakooska!" (Snack!, Snack!) she pleaded. Gracious hosts that we are, we served a lite dinner, very much like we are used to preparing. Meals? No problem!

Entertainment - I found two strategies here to be of use. One is to get your guest so weary they will go to bed right after dinner, or the second ploy, if they have a lot of stamina - shopping! The first two nights the director was tired from her flight from New York, and then from the long trip Friday to Sacramento and back (about 2.5 hours each way) to visit the first child adopted from her orphanage by an American family. It was dinner, then, 'Spakoyna nochee' (Good night!). On Saturday, after visiting two families with (active) adopted kids and a lot of conversation, I thought my previous ploy was going to work again for me. She looked kind of weary as we got into the car at 4 p.m. to leave. I asked her "Bit oostalim?" (To be tired?). She must have remembered our agenda item for the next time slot because she immediately perked up and replied "Nyet!" So I pumped my fist and in a deep guttural tone bellowed "Magazeen!" (Store!) She threw her head back and howled and we were off to the malls until 8:30 p.m.

I don't want to create the wrong impression of our guest. We learned she is a Doctor of Pediatrics and had been Director at the orphanage in Khabarovsk for twenty years. Her husband is the head doctor at the largest hospital in the city. (At lunch Friday when I heard that, I asked her through our translator 'If he is a Director at work, and you are a Director at work, who is the Director at home?' She had a playful grin on her face as she tossed her head and told the translator "Me!".) She was also a member of Russian Parliament in the early nineteen-nineties and was the head of the steering committee to change the laws to permit adoption of Russian children by foreigners. When I heard that, I suggested to our host family and translator to join me in a standing ovation at the lunch table to show our appreciation for her efforts on behalf of all Russian children and ours in particular. She seemed particularly interested in how the different children she visited had adjusted and how they were being cared for here in the United States. And I am not kidding you that she mentioned the rumors printed in the Russian papers about Russian orphans being brought here for prostitution and body organs. (Made me angry!). But the Director said that she was impressed with the quality of the families she had seen coming to her orphanage from the U.S and was hoping to place eighty (half) of her kids with Americans in the coming months. Wow!

I was impressed with her willingness to step in and volunteer to take our little Lise for a walk when things got a little harried preparing to leave Friday morning. And she seemed particularly patient when Lise cried in the car on the way home from Sacramento for about a half hour (no nap, didn't like the car seat restraint). And she seemed genuinely pleased at being able to find some gifts for her family to take home. ( I enjoyed seeing her excitedly showing Kerry her purchases Saturday night after returning from our shopping excursion - women must be the same the world over!…) She was impressed with our California weather, which was particularly pleasant, and mentioned it repeatedly. "California, oi, California!" Her mention again about California on the way to the airport Sunday encouraged me to give her a belted out version of "California, Here I Come" with hand motions and "ham". The Director was also appreciative for our hospitality - at one point during our shopping adventure Saturday evening about 8 p.m., she pointed in the dictionary to the word "torture" then pointed at me with raised eyebrows and a smile. I assured her it wasn't by pointing to the Russian word for "hunter" and beating my chest. We both laughed.

I'll end with a funny picture of our time. She wanted to buy some cologne, so we went into the discount store and there at the men's cologne section I gave of my flesh to the cause - backs of the hands, wrists, forearms up to my elbows as a human tester. Ssss-Ssss. Ssss-Ssss. By the time I left, I felt like a "foo-foo" boy and was afraid the dogs were going to follow me. But she was happy and we became pretty close during the time, just by sharing little kindnesses like that. Maybe that's really the secret of "How We Entertained Our Child's Orphanage Director in Our Home For Four Days and Enjoyed Doing It"…

Liza Doolittle Meets Saratoga: We Visit a Neighbor's Easter Party
(written Sunday, April 11, 1999, home with the three older girls for less than two weeks!)
Today, the Greek Orthodox Church celebrates Easter, and the friendly lady across the street hosted a party at her house for her friends and a few neighbors. Her name is Bunny (yes, it's true!), she is a widow who was married to a Russian man, and she moved into our new housing tract from Saratoga, an upscale bedroom community in nearby Silicon Valley. The party was announced as an open house with food featuring traditional Russian dishes. I thought we would drop in and add a real Russian touch to the event.

Easter is such a wonderful day to celebrate, I thought "Great! We get to be in the Easter spirit two Sundays in a row!". Our kids stayed in their Sunday morning clothes and I grabbed the four younger kids, ages 4 to 8, and headed across the street after giving the party a chance to get rolling. As we swept across the street, hands held together, I noted the Jaguar, Mercedes, and Lexus autos parked in front of Bunny's home, testimony that some of her friends from Saratoga had already arrived. When the front door swung open to our beckoning knock, our gracious hostess greeted us with a smile, dressed in a lovely pale green jacket and skirt. I stepped inside with a hand in each of mine and immediately noticed most of the men had on sportcoats…with ties, and the women were in smartly accessorized blouses and skirts. And everyone was holding a glass, not a plastic cup. It got worse. Platters of food were set out on the two tables in the front room, which was carpeted in a very light-colored (read:non-child friendly) beige carpet. "Hey, look at these beautiful Russian Easter eggs!" I said, hoping to direct the children's attention for a moment and give myself more time to consider my strategy. The couple that lives next door to our house was there, and when they hailed a greeting from across the room, I noted that none of their children were present, even their two older junior-high aged girls. I decided I needed to exit as soon as possible, but I didn't want to just turn around and leave. I wanted to consider my hostesses feelings.

Hmmm, I surveyed the coffee table, trying to find something that I could offer my kids that wouldn't cause any permanent damage to the pristine living room environment. The 5-pound box of See's chocolate candy was definitely out. Ah! Jelly beans! "Here, would you like a jelly bean?" I lifted the candy dish and held it up to Vanya and Sveta. I watched as Sveta's fingers curled around several of the colored orbs. "One", I whispered. With my four chewing away, I lead them to the back of the house, hoping to find a corner to hide in for a few minutes and not be the center of attention of the living room crowd. Sveta went in ahead of me and began trying to open the glass door to the patio. I put my hand on the door handle and made some diversionary comment to her about the pretty backyard. I sat in a chair next to the door and scanned the room. More coats, ties, and women in scarves. Sveta was fiddling with the mini-blinds. I noticed two young ladies preparing food in the kitchen area that were in matching white blouses and black skirts - Bunny had hired help for this party! "Wow, you have a lot of food out!" I commented as she passed by. "I'm expecting sixty people this afternoon", she replied, still smiling.

This is the instant when I changed my assessment of the situation. Instead of not wanting to embarrass Bunny by entering and exiting her party within sixty seconds, I realized I would be doing her a favor by promptly taking my chimpanzee show back across the street. I rose from my chair, "Bunny, this is a high-risk situation - for both of us!" I said, beginning to move back toward the living room, still holding two hands. As I turned to collect my four at the door, Sveta came up, finishing off a chocolate raspberry truffle from the See's candy box.

As the kids ran ahead of me across the street, I laughed out loud at the experience of the past three minutes. Most of the people at that party didn't know what they had just been spared from. But from the looks on a couple faces in that living room, there were a few that did know!

The Adventure of a Lifetime with consequences for eternity starts with one step for your family, too!...


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