Boys, boys, boys

There is something I have wanted to write about for several days; in fact, it is what made me start posting again, but I have avoided the topic as it swirls around in my head. I just cut my beginnings on the subject out of the last post and accidentally erased them.....

In April we took our older son to Ethiopia. We are now all home with our daughter and life is busy & chaotic, but good....but a few weeks ago, E, my son said, in the middle of cooking lunch or dinner, and out of nowhere,

"Mom, are all orphans boys?"

I was flabbergasted, said no, of course not, fumbled around, remembered reflective language, and then finally asked,

" What made you think that all orphans were boys?"

"Well, you know, in the orphanage..." he said.

I replied, "you mean at Toukoul?"

And I wandered around the topic some more, saying many people adopt girls, and no one really knows why, and yes, many, many of the children we met at Toukoul were boys, and we moved on.

But I have been a bit stuck on it.

My dear, sweet boy, one of the best big brother's on the planet and a boy with such a big heart, did notice a lot in Ethiopia. He hasn't really wanted to talk about any of it. The teacher had said maybe you can figure out what they don't have, but the list was too large. They didn't have nice clothes, shoes, a room of their own, action figures, families....not one thing to call their own. Where would they put it? In their pocket? We brought super balls, but 27 super balls does not work for 230 children. What are you supposed to do but give them to the office and hope the kids get to play with them someday?

And from our end, how does one decide you have enough children? How does one become content with what you have? I love my two children, they are gifts; I love my work ( which is on semi-hold, just for a bit), I love our life. This can be enough. But I want three. I want to bring a boy home. I find myself daydreaming about it. Maybe our paperwork in Kyrygzstan will suddenly be usefull. Right. Maybe we can go back and bring a boy home from Toukoul. Just one, one who wont be staying.

I cant change every child's life. I cant fix poverty. I cant provide health care, jobs, housing even for those I love right near us. I can open my heart and love my children, and give thanks for how incredibly lucky we are to have them in our lives. So very, very lucky.

I dont think anyone should adopt to "save" someone, ever. I am not "collecting." I do think every child deserves a home. I think many homes should be within a child's culture, but not at the expense of all. The right to have something, no matter how simple, to call theirs.

And, I was really struck by the sad boy who, sometimes, was begining to help at the gate. He was not dressed in white for Easter and was 7 years old. He was no longer going to get adopted and he knew it. He was sad. He was kind to Eli, but so very jealous. His name was so very impossible to remember. He was so kind, he was so sad. How can a boy that young be so sad?

And yet, I was struck, for the older kids, by what they would miss if they left beautiful Ethiopia at this point. They have a very large group of peers, and are a part of it, a culture to be proud of, that is proud of itself, a knowledge of their place, however different from some imagined norm. To leave a country where the majority is black, a place rich with history, to no longer be an expert in so many things, from the most common game, jump rope to the simple act of speaking.....Ethiopia is a wondrous place, in my not so humble opinion, and there is a loss in leaving.

Late night ramblings of a tired, adoptive mom. Now, I must sleep.


Mom? Are all orphans boys?