Pampers turns one!

April 13, 2010 by Beth Shepherd

Happy Birthday Pampers and Pakhlava! Today my blog turns one.

It seems like just yesterday I was sitting in front of my computer screen, forefinger shaking as it hovered over the ‘publish’ button. I’d never written about something so personal in such a public venue. This was a big leap. I was full of nervous excitement, like a kindergartener on her first day of school.

What a difference a year makes. I’ve hit ‘publish’ countless times now (89 posts for Pampers and Pakhlava blog and 56 posts for the Urban Cabin). I still get a little nervous before I send my missives into the ether, but blogging has been a wonderfully rewarding experience.

I’ve met (both in-person and online) awesome people I might not have otherwise known and rekindled friendships from years gone by. My soul has been warmed by the heartfelt comments I’ve received from readers. Having a ‘community’ online and behind the scenes has made the difficult moments in our journey easier to bear.

And “what a long strange trip it’s been!” I’ve felt guilty at times that I blog on a women’s travel website, but all too rarely find myself outside the city limits. Yet my journey to become a mom has been, without question, the mother of all trips. It has taken me literally, figuratively, physically and emotionally to places I’d never imagined.

Last April when I published my first post, I wondered if I would find enough to write about, whether people would read my blog and, if so, what they would think about my musings. As it turns out, I never find myself short on words, it’s cathartic to give my thoughts solid ground, and hearing that some of my posts strike a chord with others is immensely satisfying.

Blogging about our adoption has helped me keep my sanity, through I-800 applications and updates, lost referrals, failed trips, and the sweet highs of hopeful expectations. For Big Papa and I our journey to adopt from Armenia has been the road less traveled. What lies around the next bend? I can hardly wait to find out and share it with all of you.

So thank you friends and family who faithfully read what I write. Thank you Beth W.: Wanderlust and Lipstick is a warm nest for my words. My heart swells with pride as I hit ‘publish’ today. ONE YEAR, Pampers and Pakhalva! Here’s to looking at you, kiddo.

Born on the 4th of July

July 3, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

This Saturday our nation honors its 233rd birthday. Big Papa, also born on the 4th of July, turns 45. When you’re born on the 4th of July, the entire nation is celebrating on “your” day. It’s a national holiday and families have the day off. There are picnics, BBQs and, of course, fireworks.

In our neighborhood, the festivities get started days prior. Bottle rockets and M-80s fill the silence of the night and for Big Papa, a good night’s sleep on his birthday, can be nigh impossible. A few years ago, when we started dating, I asked him what he wanted for his birthday. “Peace and quiet,” was the response. I laughed, “The only place you’re going to get that is in another country.” Then it hit me. “Canada!” I exclaimed. “Brilliant!” said Big Papa. And so our Canadian birthday tradition began.

One year we went to Salt Spring Island off the coast in the Canadian Gulf Islands. Twice we visited the little town of Ladner, just north of the Canadian border on the Frasier River, where we stayed at the lovely River Run Cottages.

This year, we’re going to Vancouver. I’m embarrassed to say that in our mutual 24 years of living in the Pacific Northwest, neither of us has ever been to Vancouver proper, just three hours (plus a border crossing) north from where we live. I’ve heard wonderful things about the city, both its physical beauty and thriving cosmopolitan culture. Big Papa and I are really excited about this trip.

Big Papa’s holiday birthday got me ruminating about birthdays in general and the significance of the day you are born. I marveled at the irony of being born on Independence Day. Big Papa’s birthday was his first independent day from his mother’s womb.

Birthdays that fall on holidays are fraught with competing interests. I have a few friends whose birthdays fall between Christmas and the New Year. They have commented that presents get “combined” and their birthday plays second fiddle to the hubbub surrounding the holidays. Other friends with birthdays on holidays have said that it was tough to find attendees for birthday parties because their friends were celebrating the holiday with family or out of town.

The day, month and year of your birth is also filled with meaning. We typecast by the Zodiac signs, chit-chatty Gemini twins and cautious Cancer crabs. Following Chinese astrology, Year of the Pig folks are known for chivalry and Year of the Dragon people are thought to be energetic.

In anticipation of my adopted niece’s arrival from China, I bought all sorts of bunny-themed gifts to commemorate her birth in the year of the Rabbit, or so I thought. Her birthday falls in late January. Since the Chinese astrology is based on a lunar calendar, the new year shifts, sometimes by as much as several weeks. It turned out that my niece was actually born in the Year of the Tiger!

Not knowing the exact date of birth is a common conundrum for adoptees. Orphanages frequently make an educated guess as to the window of time when the baby may have been born and assign a birthday. In thinking about birthdays, my mind wanders to our child, who has by now, likely entered the world. I look forward to the day when I can set a candle on his cake to honor his birth, even if the date turns out to be something of a mystery.

Whale of a birthday

June 19, 2009 by Beth Shepherd

June 15 was a spectacular day. For starters, I was in Big Sur. Waking up to the smells and sounds of the ocean counts as a darn good day in my book. Taking that first sip of coffee while sitting on a deck overlooking the Pacific is hard to beat. Toss a couple of Humpback whales swimming by into the picture, and it’s nothing short of magical. This was how my 50th trip around the sun began.

Big Papa and I spent two nights at Treebones Resort to celebrate my five decades on the planet. For many, ‘resort’ conjures up images of plush towels, bedtime turn-down, Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom and five-star dining. Treebones is a different sort of resort experience all-together. First of all, we slept in a yurt. For those not in the know, a yurt is like a tent with a wood floor. Yurts are ancient structures that were used by Central Asian nomads for centuries. Our yurt was pretty cushy with a real bed, electricity and running water. Treebones has sixteen yurts, and fittingly for a June 15 birthday celebration, our yurt was number fifteen.

Breakfast at Treebones is self-serve waffles or homemade granola. They also offer tasty lunch and dinner which you can eat in their cozy lodge or outside on the deck. For my birthday dinner, we ordered the Tagine for two, a yummy stew with Middle Eastern flavors. Ours had chicken, apricots and almonds. The food was fantastic, though even Dinty Moore might have tasted pretty good with the view of the ocean from the deck.

Throughout the day, we saw a veritable ‘Partridge and a Pear Tree’ worth of marine and avian life from various vantage points at Treebones. The aforementioned Humpbacks were sighted over breakfast. Seeing their tail flukes wave and dive was spellbinding. During lunch we spotted a few dozen dolphins flying across the water in a flurry of leaps. Birds small and large flew overhead from the turkey vultures cruising the coastline, to Pelicans flying elegantly single file over the waves, to tiny Hummingbirds darting to and fro between the flowers. On land a few small brown brush rabbits hopped hopefully around the perimeter of the organic garden and the requisite on-site resort cats scurried through the brush.

And then there was the sunset. Big Papa and I sat and watched the sky turn every shade of crimson and tangerine imaginable until the sun fell to the horizon, burning bright like a day-glo island and gradually slipping below the surface. We sat together, nursing a glass of Cabernet from the bottle we received from Treebones for my birthday, waiting until every last bit of light was squeezed from the sky. As stars upon stars filled the darkness, Big Papa and I stood up and gave quiet thanks for the day, and walked hand in hand back to our yurt.