Day 3 - Part Deux (It's Official)

Sorry, didn't take a lot of pics today. I think we forgot we actually had a camera, or maybe how to use one. The less than 3 hours of sleep a day is starting to get to us, though its amazing how much you get done when you don't waste a lot of time sleeping.

Today is Security Bureau day. On the way, Der tells us, we are now legally the parents of our adopted children. He shows us our official adoption certificates and says we're going to the Security Bureau to get "interviewed".

We're running a bit early, so Der asks if we want to stop by a grocery store? Sure, why not. We pull up to this giant shopping plaza where there's a huge, I mean huge for being an inner city grocery store, on the ground level of this giant building. This store sells everything, mounds of fresh fruits, chinese sausages, and more regular items. The crowds turn most of us off - not used to the density of people seemingly everywhere, trying to navigate a store where you can't read any of the signs, though find familiar brands, etc, because the graphics and colors are the same, but most products, including Coke are not marked bi-lingual - oh, and doing this with our babies in tow. I get a couple things, a couple mini moon cakes, and an ice cream cone for Eddie and scram back to the bus.

Its a little ominous, as we pull up in front of this official government building with armed guards everywhere. He says, don't look at them, no pictures. He obviously has arranged for appointments for our group. We go up to the 2nd floor into a room that kind of looks like a DMV waiting area in the US. We wait our turn. One by one, families are called up to meet with a very official, straight faced (did we mention the Chinese have no sense of humor?) government worker, who confirms we are who we are, takes a picture of the baby, and dismisses us with one glance. A little creepy, but who cares, we're almost done with Chinese government type meetings. Tomorrow is a day off for us. Depending on how much sleep we get tonight, we may venture out, take a taxi to check out the surrounding area - on our own.

So, on the way back from the Security Bureau, Der asks, "So how old the documents say your baby is?" I replied, "14 months", but quickly picked up his cue, and asked, "Why? How old do you think she is? He reached over, felt the top of her head and said, "No, not 14 months. At most, 10 months" and motioned toward her fontinel, which I felt, and noticed it was still open about between the size of a quarter and a 50 cent piece. Hmmm. Interesting. Explains her size. She's fitting quite well in her 9 mos clothes I brought.