Ellie, our first week with you has been more magical than we could have imagined -- though with plenty of challenges. Among the things we will remember:

• The chaos of a roomful of solemn adults transforming into a roomful of adults with crying babies (and some tearful parents too) as you were brought in one by one.

• Perhaps the loudest elevator ride of our lives, from the 2nd floor of the Civil Affairs Bureau to the 1st floor, with four babies who were not at all sure this was a good idea.

• Some calm on the bus ride to the hotel as you peered out the window and looked at the life on the streets.

• Your "airplane pose" -- arms bent back straight from the shoulder, shielding yourself from grabbing on to anything.

• "The Face" -- a truly archetypal expression of disgusted refusal, which you proffered to any bottle we offered in your direction, plus to face wipes, other food you didn't want, and pretty much anything we tried to do that displeased you. By Day 3, we never saw the full glory of "The Face" again.

• Your first toy: a packet of Kleenex. In contrast to all the other toys we tried to ply you with, you decided that this one was safe to hold (and interestingly crinkly), and for the next 24 hours you liked to have it in your hand at all possible times. Thereafter, it gave way to the green letter Q from your bathtime alphabet set. (We tried E first, but the good grip you could get on the Q proved decisive.)

• By Day 2, we had you pegged as a cautious and contemplative child, one who would watch from a distance and hold back. Also a bit solemn, smiling (charmingly) only on rare, special occasions.

• By Day 4, we decided that this impression was completely wrong.

• For the first couple of days, your evident motto was "no change please." Changing from one person to another, putting on a bib, even changing position, were all occasions for crying. And changing a diaper and clothes . . . clearly a true outrage. We feared that we had a budding conservative on our hands, but over the next few days you opened up and began to accept such things as sitting in a high chair, sitting in a stroller, and even (on the 2nd attempt) taking a bath.

• After the first couple of hours in Mama's arms, you decided you were a Daddy's girl. For the next several days, you only seemed secure and happy if Daddy was holding you (and often not then either). Needless to say, this did not sit well with Mama. However, once the two of you discovered the raspberry game, your ice began to thaw.

• We were mystified by your refusal of all bottles, and we were beginning to get worried. You had taken some Cheerios (your first "comfort food") and a bit of rice cereal, but nothing liquid all day. Fortunately, we had organized a 6 pm birthday party for Lian (who was too frazzled to put in more than the briefest of appearances), with a cake and a bottle of wine. As Daddy raised his paper cup of wine to his mouth, you lunged for it, and we discovered your secret: you would only drink from a cup. And you were plenty thirsty. No sippy cups either, which has made the formula parts of feeding quite a mess, even with your full-body bib. Fortunately, you seem happy enough to drink water from a (water) bottle, which works a bit better, though spillage remains heavy.

• Our first outing (afternoon of Day 1, or was it already Day 2?) was to Carrefour, with the whole group, where we bought strollers, baby items, junk food, etc. This was perhaps the first time we saw you enjoy yourself. Hanging in the Snuggly, as we walked through the aisles with music playing, you began to dance, waving your arms, making your ever popular hand curling gestures, and kicking your feet. We realized that the orphanage's characterization that you liked "listening to music" and "outdoor activity" was actually true (even though they used that for every baby in our group). On our second trip to Carrefour, the next day, we bought a rattle that gradually supplanted the Q as favored toy.

• When we went back to the Civil Affairs Bureau the next day, we had our official interview in which we agreed to the adoption. You, apparently, did everything you could to express your disapproval, and one of the caretakers whisked you away and changed your diaper while we finished the interview. Your statement of protest was ignored.

• Our first true sightseeing trip was to the Yellow Crane Tower in Wuhan. You had been quite cranky that morning (after an hour of crying in the night, already an improvement on the two separate hours of crying on the previous night, seemingly impervious to comfort), so we considered not even going. However, you had a very good time (that outdoor activity again) and started giving us smiles. You even got to ring the giant gong (with a little help). Almost by accident, we bought a little jingling dancing girl, who helped you get to sleep a few times in the following days.

• We had fun walking with you in the park across the street from the hotel (though crossing that street may have been the scariest thing we did in China). You liked looking at the pigeons and at little girls and boys running around. People would come up and admire you -- some even wanted to have their photos taken with you.

• Our second sightseeing trip was to the Hubei provincial museum. We had low expectations, but it turned out to be excellent, with a wonderful presentation of the artifacts from the 2400-year old tomb of the Marquis Yi. The highlights were a fantastic set of chimes and a performance on a reproduction of those chimes. You took an appropriate interest in the artifacts, and you showed once again that you like "listening to music" (especially when distracted with Cheerios as necessary).

• We were pleased to find (largely by means of the breakfast buffet) that you are virtually omnivorous, happily eating everything we offered you (so long as it wasn't in a bottle).

• Perhaps our best memories from Wuhan are simply hanging out in the hall of the White Rose Hotel with the other parents and babies. With all of us adjusting to a radically new life, the opportunity to share the experience (and food, sippy cups, medicine, toys, etc.) was comforting. We did a lot of things as a group, including evening "hall parties" where we got to know each other and our kids.

• We were not particularly looking forward to our first 3-person plane trip, but you took it completely in stride, sleeping the whole 90 minutes from Wuhan to Guangzhou.

• By the end of our six days in Wuhan, you had become quite comfortable with us, and started to give us a fair number of those heart-winning smiles. But in Guangzhou, you really opened up, and seemed to delight in everything, with a smile on your face much of the time.

• Perhaps your favorite discovery has been your toes. We find it almost impossible to keep shoes and socks on you, as you keep pulling them off to admire your feet. A pose with legs straight out and a foot in each hand is one of the most common ones. More recently, you have discovered that with sufficient effort, you can get your toes into your mouth.

• Another of your favorite items is your new pair of squeaky shoes, which we bought here. They got their first trial in Lucy's Bar, when you got impatient with waiting for adults to eat. We had taken you walking (holding onto our hands) a few times before, but the shock on your face as you discovered that your steps made squeaks, then the surprised delight as you experimented with stamping and jumping, had us nearly on the floor with laughter. Now you take great pleasure walking (almost running at times) through the halls and squeaking away. You win a lot of smiles that way too. However, if you're going to walk without support, you'll have to learn to step without bending over to admire your feet.

• Rolling on the bed is another of your delights, one that can entertain you for a surprisingly long time.

. . . .

That is as far as I got before leaving China. I know that I had intended to write more, but reading it now -- four weeks later, two days before your first birthday -- it seems like a good record, even though it is a series of snapshots rather than a documentary. The three days in Guangzhou were kind of dreamlike, secluded in the lovely environs of Shamian Island and the White Swan Hotel, delighting in the way that you were warming to us and opening to the world, sharing our joy with the other families in our group and the other adoptive families who filled the White Swan. The two days of travel back to Columbus were long, but you took them well --- though you slept only 2 hours of the 11-hour Tokyo-Chicago leg, and the rest of the time we felt like we were flying with a large python.

Before closing, I must mention at least a bit about the other families and children in our group, since they were a huge part of this great experience.

• Joely and Ted adopted Annie, the most outgoing of the seven babies, always smiling and happy to go to other people. Ted and Joely were back in China for the second time, and the name Annie was chosen by Abby, her older sister (who didn't make the trip).

• Bab and Tom adopted Aria, the youngest of the seven. Aria is very fair and has a remarkably big head. Her most common posture was reclining, her head to one side, with her two middle fingers in her mouth like a baby Texas Longhorn fan. Bab has a wonderful dry sense of humor and is one of our favorite people in the group.

• Susan and Edwin adopted Lian, whose first birthday was the very day you joined us (see earlier story). Lian, like you, started out as a Daddy's Girl, maybe even more extreme, crying when he went off to get his breakfast. But she, too, warmed to both of her parents by the end of the trip.

• Sherrie was also back for her second child, traveling with her mother, Toni. Her husband had stayed behind in New Mexico with the first. We felt like we got to know Kemora the least well of the seven babies. But it was very reassuring to have two returning families, who knew the ropes and could tell us what to expect. Ted, Sherrie, and Toni were also the keenest shoppers, and the sharpest bargainers, in the group.

• Sally was the only single parent adopting in our group. Kimberly was, fortunately or by design, the most self-reliant of the babies, and very sweet natured. Adopting singly is an enormous challenge, but Sally was a trooper (literally, a police officer in New York State), never asking for (though usually accepting) help with her mountain of carry-on bags. And Kimberly is a trooper, too, so we think they'll do fine.

• Dan and Joanne were our favorite couple in the group, funny, down-to-earth, and open. They had two foster kids, so they were always a good source of advice. Their daughter, Grace, was a handful during the first few days (Dan would lap the halls of The White Rose with the stroller to get her back to sleep in the middle of the night) but seemed pretty happy by the end of the trip.

Way too much has happened in the 3 1/2 weeks we have been back for me to write it down: you've met dozens of friends and two grandparents, mastered sitting up, pulling yourself to a stand, and standing on your own, and today you took your first unassisted steps. You've been to the zoo, to the conservatory, and (lots) to the university. You've charmed everyone we know and lots of people we don't know. We're developing some sort of routine, but every day is different.

We're looking forward to your first birthday party tomorrow, at Steve and Ruthie's.

Welcome home.