Monday, June 6

Today we set out to find some diapers, and maybe hit a couple little shops along the way. It's a planned lazy day, but with a couple must-do things. Well, really, there's no reason we must do them today, but Claire's a little concerned that others may hoard in light of the recent supply ship delays, so she wants to hoard a few things. Notably...diapers and baby formula.

Of course, in a pinch, we have lots of options as grown adults. We can choose different things to eat, skip meals, and even go different or light on liquids or showers or whatever. Not so much so for the infant in our little group, though. Yeah, fundamentally, she doesn't need disposable diapers, but we're ill-equipped to handle any alternative. We also don't have any alternatives for baby food, as she's only approaching (tomorrow) 11 weeks old. We could go a little longer between changing, I suppose, but we try to wait until the diaper's rather full, or she's uncomfortable, or some time gap (like going to bed) is reached.

So we set out with the mission to find a healthy, and hopefully reasonably priced supply of diapers and formula. We came with what we thought would be about half a trip's worth, and it has been proven to be about that. There's a little disagreement of how we reached that amount. I contend that I suggested we try to find what she was using when we arrived, and blend her into what we have from home, and will continue to use when we return. Both a lack of supply, and the aforementioned disagreement made that not happen. It is happening that we're starting to get low on what we do have, so we need more.

We set out for the EZ Price Mart, where Claire was sure she'd seen the right stuff. As we drove that way, the Ministry of Visitor Affairs caught my eye, with lights on in the building, so I pulled in. The gals were surprised, and it turned to a pleasant surprise as the office was indeed open, and the gal inside happy to see us, chat with us, and load us up with all kinds of information and maps and so forth. They had a small pamphlet with some Marshallese phrases, but no kind of dictionary or “learning Marshallese” book. And no idea where to get anything for the kids to learn Marshallese with.

I'd mentioned this at the beach yesterday, too, with the policy makers in the water. I commented how it was hard to find any kind of learning materials in Marshallese, especially for young kids. There wasn't even much in English that wasn't exactly what we'd find at home. No Marshallese fairy tale books in either language have apparently been made. That brought up a “why would you want to do that?” conversation, which led to them being a little impressed that we were interested in trying to integrate a little of their culture into ours. Evidently it's widely assumed and accepted that once adopted an off to the U.S., Marshallese ties are kind of forgotten about, except maybe some cursory “where we got you” kind of stuff.

I'm pretty sure this old dog isn't going to learn the new trick and become fluent in Marshallese, but I do work in many different computer languages, and I know at least a handful of phrases in a handful of other spoken languages, so it's not terribly out of the realm of possibility. Due to early family influences and classes in school, I spoke fair, if only very basic Deutsch. Ich sprecht mit der kinden, I would joke with my German-speaking counterparts, who would joke back that I spoke with the stupid children. Still, they could grok what I said a lot better than when I spoke slow, loud English. Well, they understood that, too, but only because they spoke English, too. And I didn't really speak loud, just a little slower than normal; and that's because I blurt and mumble normally...

I'd joked a little about making some children's books in Marshallese, which was met with a little interest by the floating pool of politicos, who knew the reality of it not happening, mostly because I'm not an author of children's books, nor am I associated with a publisher in any way. Not one that would want to make the hundreds of books per printing that it would take to try to give them away to every school child in the country, or to sell to tourists for a couple bucks.

Anyway, the visitor's center had no more of an introduction to the Marshall Islands than a stack of hand-outs. They were well done, and will probably be cherished and turned into a bit of a “where you come from” package for Grace to neglect later. Sure, at some point, probably young adulthood or later, she'll have an interest and appreciation of the material an effort, but in those nearly twenty years to come, she'll no doubt be more familiar due to better technologies like Skype, if we can connect to some people here. Return trips, too, if and when we can make them, and if or when she'll be able to appreciate them.

We left the visitor's center and continued our quest for diapers. We hit the EZ Price Mart, and found the diapers easily enough. We had a bit of a debate whether we should buy the giant bundle Claire wanted, or if we should plan to make more trips. I supposed that Grace might grow enough to need a different size. We'd already been told she was growing and getting fat from her birthmother, as her infrequent visits were giving her just snapshots of progress. We compromised that if she outgrew them, we'd donate them for use by someone with a smaller child, either in the program, or just in need, and we'd buy more of the right size later. There weren't any formula containers to be seen, so we left with just our giant block of diapers.

Also on our errand list was a stop by the post office. The other mother had some postcards she wanted to send. We got some last time we were there, but I haven't scribbled anything on them, mostly procrastinating because we didn't have stamps. I picked up stamps in the right number to post the cards when we got back and made time. We also stopped at the Formosa next door as we realized that while we were now well-stocked with diapers, we did not have the complementary diaper wipes. We could probably do just fine with some alternative method of clean-up, but there's little arguing the sanitary convenience of throw-away wipes. Pull the soiled diaper off, wipe as necessary, roll the wipe in the diaper wad, discard. Clean and tidy.

On the way back, we realized we were all a little hungry. One of the places we've been recommended is the Diabetes Wellness Center. Previous families have suggested it, and we were visited by one of the women who work there when we ran into her at the MIR restaurant. It's Monday, so we understood the menu would probably be “haystack,” or plates full of vegetables. I envisioned some kind of high-fiber salad, and was fine with that. Probably my most frequent lunch is a pile of spinach, sometimes with bits of onion or chicken, if I feel I need some flavor or protein, and sometimes with a hint of dressing, as spinach can be a bit dry.

We made our way there, and shyly found our way into the room. It wasn't marked on the door, although the side of the building proudly announced the center. While we were poking around, we were greeted by one of the fellas we'd seen, but not interacted with at the MIR, and he confirmed we were in the right place, and gave us the low-down on how lunch worked, and what some of the other offerings were. We took turns grabbing trays of food and holding babies, and settled in for a pretty good stack of rice and beans. It was, as the guy said, kind of like eating nachos without the chips. There was a pretty tasty bean-based, well, almost stew, taking the place of the chicken or beef you might have atop your nachos. Instead of the chips, there was rice. There was also a bean and onion soup that just needed a little kick; it was low-sodium but otherwise tasty. We grabbed a couple of their signature frozen bananas on our way out, thanked him as he shouted out from the office, and said we'd be back.

We returned to our rooms, unpacked the cars, and settled in for a bit of a cool down. The temperature is always in the mid-eighties Fahrenheit, but with the humidity, the windchill makes it feel like it's in the upper-nineties. With a good breeze, that can drop to the mid-nineties. In the room, we've been able to acclimate Grace down to about 23C or 24C degrees, which is about 73F degrees, but more importantly, the humidity is cut by half or more.

We watched a little too much MTV and Discovery channel while we relaxed. Claire spent some time on the Mac, and I just kept Grace company on the sofa. For the last couple of days, the movie channel has been broken, showing only black-screen. A number of the channels are off the air, some with either the “screensaver” presented by the AV equipment, or a warning the signal is missing, or something like that. It's as if the person at the NTA who is responsible for keeping the channels on the air has gone on a little vacation.

I thought to check my e-mail and see what was going on. That's when I realized it had been Monday, all day long! Of course, days blur together when you're just waiting for something to happen. I felt just the littlest bit bad as I do have a task for work I could do, but I shrugged that off with blended “I'm on vacation,” “it is Sunday there,” and “they don't have pressing need for it yet.” I'll get to it, and they'll tell me I'm working too hard and should enjoy my vacation...you just wait. Well, now that I've said that where they might see it, it won't be what happens.

A few people messaged wondering more about Grace. I'll try. For starters, she turns 11 tomorrow. Weeks, that is. No quite three months old. She stands (with help) about two feet tall, maybe twenty-five or so inches. I haven't got a tape measure, so that's kind of a guess. Also a guess, would be her girlish figure of 16-16-16, base on my ability to reach all the way around her, and knowing that the spread of my fingers is about eight inches. Also, without a scale, I estimate she's about eleven or twelve pounds. This is based on holding her for about two hours at a time, which pushes some comfort limits.

She works in roughly two-hour long stretches, starting with a fairly regular feeding of about a whole 4oz bottle and is usually followed by a good belch. She has some stretches where she finishes her bottle and the stretch by sleeping (kiki in Marshallese). Sometimes she's up for some or all of the stretch. She spends most of those times looking around, occasionally flailing her fisted hands and kicking. Sometimes her two our span is split with some awake time and some kiki, so to say she sleeps half of the time is probably accurate. She does a good job sleeping in longer stretches overnight, usually in three or four hour spurts, but seems to depend on how well-fed she is, how wet she becomes, or maybe some other lunar influences as we can't yet predict based on events leading to bedtime what the interval may be.

She makes a little noise from time to time; the squeaks and squawks one expects of one so young. She smiles a bit when you talk back, and sometimes for no apparent reason at all. She likes it if you blow gently on her forehead or hair, or give gentle puffs on her face. She doesn't like it if you blow strongly at her nose. She doesn't dislike it so much as to cry or anything, just making faces and stiffening her limbs a bit. She doesn't like it when the wind blows too hard, or if the breeze blowing on her is too cold. The former bothers her a lot more when we're outside, the latter when we're inside.

She rarely cries. Part of that is because we're pretty quick to check her basic threes; full diaper, empty stomach, or general comfort. She does every once in a while go from some state of total calm to outright roaring sobs, which is almost always certainly settled with a bottle. On just a couple of occasions it was related to a diaper. We haven't (knock on wood) had a yet unsatisfied roaring spell.

Developmentally, I have no idea what she should be doing. Except when sleeping, she almost always has her hands in fists, so she doesn't reach out to grab anything. She does every once in a while reach out an punch, but I put that more on elbow or shoulder flailing than any kind of targeted punch. Sometimes while flailing she'll unclench her fingers, but it seems to be the farther from her head, the more likely she is to have jazz-hands. Likewise, especially when she's eating, she cycles through stretching out her toes and bunching them up into little foot fists.

She does stare at things. She particularly likes parallel and perpendicular lines. The ceiling in the hallway of the hotel is a grid of rectangles. I've explained to Grace the composition of the pattern as parallel beams that create rectangles, even sharing with her that the slight tapering in them makes rhomboids. Claire thinks I'm goofy, but Grace stares at the ceilings with apparent amusement, and she seems to be paying great attention to me when I talk. Grace doesn't seem to care what I say, or if it makes any sense, but she does like it when I tell her things.

She seems to see things farther away than before. I know infants can see farther than a foot or so away, but they (whoever they are) say babies can't focus any closer than that. That, of course, changes quickly, and I think she's at least able to focus on the ceilings as we walk under them. On at least one occasion, in a small experiment, she was unhappy under an irregular roof, but was happier when we moved to a regularly patterned roof. All other things but spatial positioning being equal, she fussed when we moved back under the irregular roof, and settled when we moved away. The reaction was predictable and repeatable. Even varying her orientation, and affecting the light in her eyes and that kind of stuff seemed to make no difference; it really seemed to be the ceiling or something we didn't see on the ceiling.

She really likes this one painting of a hut an outrigger that is on the wall over the sofa. She will sometimes stare at that instead of interacting with us, but we are guessing it's because of the reflection of the glass or the colors or whatever; not that she recognizes the scene or has a thing for palm trees or coconuts, which are also prominent in the painting.

She does track things. She recognizes her bottle and will follow with her eyes and head as we test her that little bit. Quite a bit of the time when she's on the sofa where she can se it, she will just gaze at it. She'll look away when we distract her, but she'll return to it eventually. She even coos and puts her hand to her chin, as if pensively considering the artwork.

It seems she can tell the difference between her bottle and pacifier. I'm trying only to use the pacifier as a distraction when we haven't got a bottle prepared, or as a tiny gap filler when she's drifted off and seems to want just one or two more tugs. She bites on it a few times, and is either settled or disappointed an spits it out.

She seems to recognize either her name or at least our voices, and certainly our faces. When either laying alone or being held by someone, she'll look for us if we're talking, especially if we're talking to her. Of course, that's both because we'll say her name, or do a little bit more soothing speech. We don't dig the straight-up baby talk, but we do blather and bubble noise a little bit, mostly when we mock her.

She doesn't like it if you grab her feet or toes when she's eating or just falling asleep, but she doesn't mind otherwise. When she eats, she often grabs a finger or thumb with one or both of her hands. Sometimes rolling her fingers as if bored or milking.

She stands with help. She's not very good at it, but does seem to like it. With just a little balance help under the arms, and watching out that her bobbly-head doesn't bobble too far, she will stand on our laps or on a table or the sofa, or whatever's handy. She spends a little time on her tummy, but most of that is sleeping, as she's not too fond of being awake on her tummy.

Health-wise, she seems just fine. She had a few days where she would wake up every time with a bit of a congested coughing fit, but that's since passed. There was one day where she got really congested, but so did I, and it seemed related to having opened the air ducts on the air conditioner, perhaps letting more dust and such directly out into the room (which does cool the room more efficiently). She still has a little bit of a chest congestion, which seems at its worst when we're in really cold (or low humidity) rooms, but nothing that seems to last. She hasn't had any rashes (even diaper), or bumps or bruises or anything that stands out. She coughs some times, but so do we, and she sneezes sometimes, as do we, so those we figure are totally environmental irritant.

Most of the time, though, she's sleeping. Usually on her back, with her hands beside her head as if to say “touchdown.” She seldom twitches, doesn't often kick, and usually, once asleep, doesn't care if she's held or laid on a table or chair, or put in the bed or left on the sofa. She prefers to be warmer, and one of the devices we use when she's a little unsettled from fatigue, but won't fall asleep before bed is just to take her out on the balcony or into the hallway, and let the melting heat of the Marshall Islands evenings.

I think that about wraps up Grace at the moment.

As I checked my messages, I found I'd received an e-mail from Lañinbwil's Gift guy. More accurately, he responded to my blog post (which sends me an e-mail with the comment), saying he appreciated the feedback. I sent him another e-mail, expanding just a little on a few of the things, 'cause he's a different audience than the one for which the post was intended. After dinner I noticed he responded back saying he was the guy I thought I saw, and that he is here on the island, and that he'd like to get together with a fan, fellow adopting parent, and general good guy.

We had dinner at the Outback with the other mother in the hotel. We'd sent a message to and tried to call the other family, but got no response. Earlier they'd noted their son had a little bit of a temperature, so they might be taking it alone to settle that down. They're also starting to get a little apprehensive about their visa arriving any day now. They arrived more than a week before their court date, if I remember their story correctly, so while they're two weeks longer than us since their papers were submitted, they're closer to four weeks longer than us since arriving in country.

The Outback was where we had our post-court dinner with all of the families. The newness of the island, the attempt to have some traditional food, and some of the awkwardness of trying to talk through translators while being entertaining and wrangling kids made it a bit of an experience that wasn't about the food. We'd heard from other families before us that it was hit-or-miss, and whatever we thought of the food on the first visit would likely be different on later visits.

They put us in the same room (the restaurant is partly outside, and, it seems, in three or so separate little areas. As such, the waitstaff is always going in and out doors. We thought to go around the bend from where we were led in, but it turned out instead of escaping the door (not that we were trying to make more work for the staff), we were right next to another door. Other mother and I ordered the fried chicken breasts, and Claire, inspired by the other family last night, ordered a steak. The food was good. Again, the chicken is carved differently than I'm used to, so it was a little different to eat. Most notably, the breast was sliced and kind of fanned out, making for more surface for the fryer to hit. It was tasty though. We also opted for some banana cream pie, which was pretty good, and despite being rather large pieces, everyone finished theirs.

We returned to our rooms and planned to settle in early for a change. We put out tentative plans to hit the wellness center for banana pancakes in the morning, mostly for an escape from the hotel, but also because they were promising to be a bit healthier, and were a little less expensive on the menu.

We thought to give Grace a bath before putting her down for the night. When I went in to prep the little tub, I noticed the ants had made a come back. There was a solid line of ants from the top of the shower to the sink. They were coming out a little farther from the corner, and going around the part I'd sprayed yesterday, winding on the wall, around the parts I'd sprayed, and to the corner of the sink, where I hadn't sprayed.

Curiously, they seemed most interested in the sink, or the dried contents in there, and the underside of the dish-drying rack we had sitting on the counter next to it. More curiously, they were not in the rack or on the dishes in the rack, but massed beneath it, probably due to the cover it provided until I picked it up. I put it back down, pulled out and inspected the dishes, which I relocated to the other room where we stow the food (in zip-lock baggies, but where the ants haven't really been massing). I scrubbed the ants away from the countertop with dish-soapy water, rinsed and dried the countertop. I scrubbed the rack and pad, and rinsed it and set it aside out of the bathroom too. I removed the towels and baby bath, and hit the underside of the sink and top of the shower surround where the ants were with more ant-killer spray. I also sprayed along the wall where the ants were trailing. The spray killed them in their tracks, gluing them to the wall.

I let the spray I washed the countertop and sink again with soapy water. I prepared the tub for a bath, which Claire gave her while I set up the Mac for a little Modern Family. Claire gave her a bottle, including a little warm-up on the balcony. While the girls hung out in the warm, I ran through the shower, and finished about the time Grace was getting tucked in. She wasn't asleep exactly, but seemed to settle well in her bed.

We camped in the living area of our suite, and watched a couple more hilarious episodes, and then also turned in.