Um...what time is it?

So, now that we've been home for 26 hours, I'm trying to figure this whole thing out.  When does a parent have time to shower, eat, have sex, oh, yes, and sleep?  :)

Here's to jet lag...

Yes, I'm completely exhausted, Zi had a pretty good day considering that yesterday she traveled for 30 hours straight, moved country, became a US citizen, moved into a new house, gained a pet dog, met her paternal grandparents and Aunt Lisa, and found herself on a 12 hour time difference.  But, of course, if you don't consider that, she was pretty cranky today.  Charles and I slept in shifts, which means, I slept from about midnight to 3:30 am and then again from 1:00 pm to 5:45 pm.  Here it is 1:30 am, and I'm still awake.  Typing.

I need to go to sleep, I know.  But, I am maybe too tired?  I feel too much like it is 1:30 pm?  I'm not sure.

I think I have too many things rattling around that I want to talk about... immigration, the lack of 24 hour grocery stores, food, car seats, differences between China and USA, even the absolute magic of being married to someone who is really a wonderful partner and father.  I should start there, but I think I want to capture how I felt last night when we got back to the USA...I might forget it if I don't get it down...

So, we land in Chicago, and I'm elated.  Once we go through immigration, Zi will be an official US citizen.  But there are two lines.  One for "visitors" and one for "citizens."  She is neither, and they told us in China to take her through the visitor line, so with the other adoptive families, we stood in that line.  Mostly this line consisted of non-white peoples... one or two Canadian or European families, but mostly Asian (we had just come off a flight from Beijing).  This line moved very slowly.  The other line, for citizens, was full of white people and moving quickly.  We only had about a two hour layover, so one by one, the adoptive families abandoned the "visitor" line and went to the fast moving line (which actually turned out to be the right line for us).  But what struck me was the attitudes.  The visitor line was anxious, and when we moved over to the citizen line, everyone was all smiles.  People were happy to be "home."  I wondered, why I found myself aggravated with the slow moving line.  Why was I feeling like we should get this show moving?  Why did I feel like I could just switch lines?

Flashback...When we took off from Beijing, we were searched just before we boarded the plane and were not allowed to bring any water on with us.  Any other time, I would have been annoyed, but I would not have cared much.  But here I was with a 10-month old baby, a ziplock full of powdered formula, and no water for a 14 hour flight.  When I told the officer (In English) that the water was for the baby, he said, "This is not your country" (Also in English) and promptly threw my water bottles into the trash.  I was enraged.  But, of course, silent.

Then I asked myself, why am I angry?  Why do I think I can take water on the plane?  Why do I think I can just switch lines?  How can I complain about my students' entitlement when I have the same feelings of self importance?

This did not really sink in until we were in our big nice car, driving to our big nice house, down huge 6 lane roads with no trash on them, through clean smog-free air, with our nice comfortable (and safe) car seat for a baby we just traveled to the other side of the world to get.

Damn, we are rich, wealthy, lucky, easy, free...

Our guide, Kelly, told us that her parents raised their four children in 600 square feet.  They managed to send all four of their daughters to college.  Kelly speaks 3 languages, has an excellent job, and is pregnant with her second child which her government forbids her to have because she is only supposed to have one.  When she has the baby, she will be charged over $35,000 for breaking the one child rule.  And that is just the official fine.  She and her husband will be punished socially as well.  Social taboos are sometimes the most difficult to deal with.

This is how babies like Zi end up in orphanages.  This is why I can move lines, why most of the world eats up American culture and still hates it simultaneously.  I've never felt so privileged in my life.  And, I'm not sure I like the cost of my privilege to other people waiting in other lines, living in cramped quarters, all over the world.