What have I been doing since we returned home from Guatemala? Like a lot of parents around the country, filling out forms for back to school. And very little else! That’s not entirely true. I’ve also been trying to get myself back into the swing of preparing for the launch of my book, Mamalita: An Adoption Memoir. (OH YES, THAT!!) November 1 will be here before I know it, and there’s still a lot to do. I’ve been working with someone on a book trailer—similar to a preview for a movie, but for a book—and I’m happy to say we’re close to agreeing on a final script. Most of the time, writing is solitary, so it’s been a new experience to collaborate with someone else for a change. I like it.
Mateo is now riding a two-wheeler. Sad to say, this milestone occurred while I was in Guatemala with only Olivia. Tim said the progression was easy. Mateo asked Tim to take off the training wheels, and Tim did. The next thing Tim knew, Mateo was zipping across the playground, his two little legs a blur. This past weekend, Mateo and I spent the better part of Saturday and Sunday afternoons riding together. Anyone who knows how much I love to bike will understand how pleased I am to share this activity with my son. Already I’m envisioning the two of us doing RAGBRAI, a seven-day pedal across the flatlands of Iowa. We’ll have to settle for a few loops around the neighborhood first.
Both kids love their new teachers at their new schools and are beginning to make new friends. As of this writing, Olivia has abandoned violin. At her new school, we ran into the music teacher and he mentioned a percussion group that meets weekly. Percussion. Doesn’t that mean drums? Haven’t yet made up my mind about that one. In the meantime, I’ve enrolled Olivia in ballet. As some of you know, my mother, Olivia’s grandmother, is a former Radio City Music Hall Rockette. She owned a dance studio while I was growing up, where I and many girls in our neighborhood took lessons.
Naturally–or as my mother would say, “Natch”–Mom and I are beyond thrilled to see Olivia in a tutu. I’ve told Mom that she and I better curb our enthusiasm, lest we become the twin “Stage Mothers to End All Stage Mothers.” For me, I confess, that could happen. I’m doing my best to stay cool, at least until recital time.
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