In This Exhibit, The Lesser Panda

Another four hours of sleep, another day in beautiful, downtown Chongqing. Today is rainy, which was definitely not convenient on our trip to the Chongqing Zoo, where they have six pandas in residence who are all very cute (although, as Mary noted, not as cute as our babies.) I was so excited for my first-ever trip to the zoo with my own child, but really, the girls (and boys--did I mention the amazing fact that out of eight families in Group 906, two have adopted toddler boys?) are way too young to focus on the pandas. They got very damp but Jarrah was pretty well-behaved when you compare her occasional whimper to the full-blown opera of bellowing we had all night and morning. She also LOVES riding on the bus on her daddy's lap, staring at the city going by. It was a long drive and she fell asleep on the way there, stretched across both our laps, a real blessing considering she has barely slept in the last 36 hours.

Friends, last night was not fun. We had two patches of about two hours each with relative quiet; during the second one, I was passed out so heavily I forgot I have a baby now and was pretty darn wigged when I was awakened by one crying right in our room. After the 4:45 screaming wake-up, there was no going back to sleep. We've also begun a disturbing trend of having that pre-dawn wake-up time accompanied by an extremely dirty diaper, and I'm not at my sharpest at that hour (perhaps that is lucky; my nose isn't really awake, either.) Somehow, nearly 6 hours was not enough time for us both to shower, change Jarrah a few times, choose and put on a new outfit, give her two bottles (one water, one formula) and a small bowl of rice cereal that looked and smelled exactly like kindergarten paste. No, my friends, we were still late to breakfast and had to rush through our buffet selections to avoid holding up the bus to the zoo. Parenthood is extremely time-consuming, and in my addled state I keep finding myself somewhere and thinking "I haven't brushed my teeth in a whole day" or "I am wearing only a t-shirt under my windbreaker and it's 45 degrees" or "I can barely lift this diaper bag but I've forgotten a bottle, something to go in the bottle, and anything to cover the baby in the aforementioned 45 degrees." I am beyond tired. I think I'm in some sort of adrenaline zone and that's what's making my stomach feel so strange. Hopefully it's adrenaline and lack of sleep and not the water.

Of course, we have some unique hardships. I am learning about all the laundry a baby needs, at a time when I have no access to laundry. We can send it out but it takes two days to come back. When she doesn't like the bottles or nipples I've brought, it's everyone's tough luck. Our hotel room trash can is overflowing with dirty diaper accessories and I can't empty it. We can't drink the tap water (or use it for making bottles.) There is no such thing as stroller access in Chongqing's public areas, and speaking of public areas, the restrooms have no changing facilities (they practically have no toilet facilities, save a flushable hole in the floor, so what was I expecting?) I live in fear of a really messy diaper when we're out and about because I have no way of changing it, despite my valiantly stocked diaper bag that I can barely lift.

The most unsettling development is one, given the kind of luck I've experienced, that I sort of anticipated (maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy?) Jarrah openly favors David at this point; she even calls him "mama" which is what the orphanage nannies called themselves. Hence, David is now the most popular nanny. And since there are only two of us, I come in last. ;) I joke about it, but it kind of hurts. But the reason I expected it makes a lot of sense--David is just more patient than I am. It's no secret to anyone who knows us. When the going got tough last night (and it did get tough, more than a few times) I was the one to walk away and David remained to rock her crib (it doesn't actually rock, so it's a lot of work) for a half an hour on the off-chance she would go back to sleep. Today, if he goes out of the room, she screams bloody murder and screams "Mama!" until he comes back. If I try to hold her or carry her during this time, she struggles and twists like an acrobat so I can barely hold on to her. Her rigid bends and flips and kicks remind me of an Olympic high diver. It's like trying to snuggle the pulled-back spring on a pinball machine. Again, I will use the word "unnerving." Of course I'm trying to be a good sport about the whole thing, but I will mention with no little self-deprecating humor that I'm the only mommy here who is not the chosen one. What does that say about me? ;) Maybe don't answer that. ;) Could someone just reassure me, though, if you have a minute, that the child doesn't designate one Good and one Evil Parent for the duration? Because again I will use the word unnerving to imagine a passage of years in this sort of doghouse.

David and Jarrah just awoke from a nap in the armchair; she remains vigilant to the prospect of being placed in her crib and will not let you get away with it. Now we are having another round of random screaming, so I need to go and help deal with it. The plan for the rest of the day is to rest (ha ha) in the room and then have a group Chinese dinner at the hotel restaurant. I'm looking forward to that because each night we've been too out of it to think about dinner. Also this afternoon begins the individual trips to what Marie is calling "the founding sites;" I had no idea CCAI would arrange a visit for each one of us. Jarrah and one other little girl, Sedona, were found the furthest away from here; past the orphanage and probably an hour away. Our two families will be renting a van together for that trip, which will happen tomorrow. Some of the other girls and boys were abandoned as close as a five minute walk from here. How totally bizaare. I'm afraid I'm going to feel very upset when I see the founding site, but I know it's important to go and take pictures for Jarrah.

Back from the crisis and wanted to add one more thing. David and I were so grateful for your outpouring of love and support today. I wept quite a bit reading the replies to my last post. Readers, your wisdom and compassion ease my heart and mind. David and I are so tired that a little while ago we resorted to "tricking" Jarrah into thinking we were paying attention to her (something we must do at all times) while we were actually sleeping. We set up the bed with her blankie, stacking cups, Link-a-Doos, and Veggie Puffs with the TV tuned to Chinese children's TV (talk about your psychedelic experiences!) while we surreptitiously curled on pillows around her, trying to look nonchalant. She wasn't buying it, though, and started wailing as soon as we hit the bed. For the next little while, she alternated: Stack a cup, wail, eat a Veggie Puff, wail, stack a cup, howl, eat a Veggie Puff, sob. Very relaxing for all of us. We are so punchy we were giggling watching this struggle between the diversions of the present and the loss of the past and future. It's really quite heartbreaking but we just have to laugh. It's either that or cry by now.

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