Step 21: But your daughter is Chinese!

Bean woke up at 6:45 this morning and devoted the next hour and a half to repeatedly asking when Pearl was going to get up so we could go get breakfast. We gave him some snacks and asked for patience. When our little sleeping beauty finally roused herself at 8:15, Bean decided that he was tired and was going back to bed. The rest of us got cleaned up and dressed while Bean rolled around in his bed scowling. Finally, Angry Driver and I insisted that he get dressed so we could all go eat.

Bean's response to this was a tantrum of Biblical proportions. His outburst covered all the basics:

Screaming? Check.

Hitting? Check.

Crying real tears? Check.

Sarcastic mimicry of his parents? Check.

Finally, Angry Driver picked a still pajama-clad Bean up and carried him kicking and screaming out into the hallway so that we could go eat. It was not a pretty sight and after about ten seconds, Bean and Angry Driver disappeared back into our room so that Bean could calm himself down. Pearl and I proceeded down to the breakfast buffet.

While Bean was melting down, Pearl was all smiles and sweetness. She fed herself congee and fruit and doled out hugs like she was auditioning for the part of "cute foreign toddler" on some saccharin-sweet ABC pilot. Approximately 10 minutes after Pearl and I sat down to eat, a chastened Bean and an exhausted Angry Driver entered the dining room stage left.

Breakfast actually went surprisingly well considering how the morning started.

John met us in the lobby shortly after 9 am so that we could go pick up Pearl's Chinese passport and the notarized documents. We made it one block before we realized that a few vital documents were missing. The morning excursion then turned into a scenic tour around the block since we had to turn around and go back to the hotel for the paperwork.

On the road once again, we visited the passport office and the notary. We then stopped to see the old city moat and the springs for which Jinan is known. Bean complained that he didn't want to go to "a stupid park" and he asked for M&Ms every 15 seconds. Pearl refused to sit on the seat in the van and she delighted in a new game I call "ask Mama to open her mouth and then slap her hard on both cheeks". Yeah, not my favorite game.

The springs were amazing, and both kids had a great time despite Bean's misgivings. Many local residents were visiting the various springs this morning, and we watched as they tossed empty buckets down into the crystal clear water and then used the buckets to fill jugs that could be carried home and boiled for domestic use. The children were a big hit with the local residents, but several people chastised us for allowing the kids to venture too close to the rock ledges overlooking the moat.

Apparently, "too close" is 10 feet from the edge with adults holding their hands.

One man angrily informed me that Bean was not dressed warmly enough. At the time, it was about 40 degrees Fahrenheit and Bean was wearing a down coat and gloves, so I'm thinking the man would have preferred that my son wear a NASA approved spacesuit or something.

Our next stop was Daming Lake Park, or as Bean politely referred to it, "another stupid park". Even in winter, the park was a tranquil oasis and many people were strolling the grounds enjoying the willow trees, the calm water, and the reprieve from Jinan traffic noise. As we meandered down the path, we came across a small barren patch of ground where several young children and their caregivers (mainly doting grandparents) were playing. The scene was actually a bit perplexing to Angry Driver, Bean, and me.

There were about 15-20 children and their caregivers milling around on a dirt patch enclosed by an 18 inch high iron fence. The entire field measured about 750 square feet. No playground equipment. Very few toys. In fact, the only true toys we spotted were a plastic chainsaw wielded by a boy of approximately 4 years of age and a plastic ride on car hauled around by someone's grandfather. Some of the kids poked sticks into the dirt. Others scratched at small sheets of ice or clawed at half-frozen mud puddles. A few rolled around on the ground, cushioned by the customary five layers of clothing.

The area looked more like the world's most depressing dog park than a play area for children.

Bean and Pearl immediately scaled the fence and joined in the fun.

It didn't take long for Jinan's amateur paparazzi to take note of my sandy-haired Bean frolicking in the "park" and he quickly found himself photographed from all sides as parents and grandparents propelled their reluctant children toward him with instructions to "say hullow". Thankfully, Bean smiled and entertained his adoring public. The park goers probably still would have taken his picture had he thrown a tantrum like the one he had this morning, but I was beyond grateful that he saved me from that particular embarrassment.

One woman in particular was enthralled by Bean and she pushed her two year old daughter at him while Grandma smiled mutely from the sidelines. The woman explained to our guide in Mandarin that she is an English teacher. She then chatted pleasantly with us in English, and her English was quite good. Suddenly, she looked down at Pearl who was bundled at my side in a fluffy pink coat and a pink and white kitty hat. The woman smiled benevolently down at my daughter and then stooped to inspect her more closely. Her smile quickly disappeared when she looked at Pearl's face. She stood up stiffly, a look of bewilderment on her face.

"But your daughter is Chinese"

I left off the punctuation here because, to be honest, I'm still not sure whether the woman's proclamation was a statement of fact, a question, or both. Angry Driver and I responded that we adopted Pearl. The confused expression did not change.

A discussion in Mandarin ensued between the woman and our guide. John then turned to me and explained that the woman did not understand about this "adoption", and very few people in this area are aware that such a thing can occur. While John was talking to me, I could hear the woman asking Angry Driver if our Chinese daughter will be going to the United States with us when we leave China.

Um, no. We were just planning to have her be our daughter for a week or so just to check "try out a Chinese daughter" off our bucket list.

That was my sarcastic thought but it was (Hallelujah)  not the response I gave. Instead, we patiently explained the adoption concept to the woman with some help from John, and then a good time was had by all. Pictures were taken, children were doted on, snacks were shared, and, all the while, Grandma smiled and uttered not a word.

Lunch went well thanks to John, who ordered our food for us when he and the driver dropped us off at a restaurant near our hotel. I will probably dream about the fried sweet potato balls and Pearl ate 3 bowls of some kind of noodle soup. One of the servers tried to teach Bean to use chopsticks and Pearl attempted to use her own chopsticks with some success. The owner of the restaurant even made an appearance for the obligatory photo shoot. He then very generously gave the kids watermelon so I'm pretty sure he will be on Pearl's Christmas card list for life.

We decided to skip Pearl's nap today since she stayed up until 10 pm last night after having taken a nap. Big mistake, but I'll get to that momentarily.

Dinner (at our mall, of course) was not as successful as lunch had been, probably because John wasn't there to order and charades only convey so much. The expensive butter cookie (Bean and Pearl) and strawberry (Angry Driver) ice cream that followed were very much enjoyed, though.

Back at the hotel, things went swimmingly until we refused to let Pearl wear her pink tennis shoes to bed. I actually thought that it wouldn't be so bad to let the poor kid wear her beloved sneakers in a hotel crib, but I quickly realized that the screaming was less about the shoes and more about my parenting fail when I eschewed the nap earlier today.

After ten minutes of screaming, crying, rolling around in the crib, and hurling her slippers at me, Pearl fussed herself out and surrendered to sleep.

Bean decided this was a good time to ask again for M&Ms. He got an apple and went to bed shortly thereafter.

Why am I telling you all this? Why would I relate a tale that, frankly, is kind of depressing and portrays my children and our family in an unflattering light?

I'm relating the gory details because I want everyone to know that this is not some fairy tale where my perfect family goes to China, takes in the sights, and seamlessly integrates an exotic "+1" into our WASPy reservation for 3.

This is our new life together and it is not perfect. Angry Driver and I are definitely not perfect parents. Bean and Pearl are most certainly not perfect children. Jinan is not a place where adorable moppets live in some Disneyesque orphanage waiting to sing catchy tunes as they skip off into Happily Ever After with their "forever families".

Naturally, I had hoped for a bit more of a honeymoon phase before we had a day filled with tantrums and petulance, but here we are.

Jinan is a beautiful city with some work to be done when it comes to caring for its most vulnerable residents.

Really, though, that statement could describe just about any city anywhere in the world.

And, no, the four of us aren't quite sitcom ready, but we are a "good enough" family; we will muddle through this one day at a time. Together.

I might wear earplugs all day tomorrow, though. I'm just sayin'...