OK, was the woman at the store yesterday being rude because of race or not?
This question hasn't come up often for me, as my children rock, and we are just leaving the cute baby age where no one says ANYTHING, except, isn't the baby beautiful, AND I couldn't be whiter if I tried. So, why would I think of race first? In fact, on a plane to Oklahoma with baby man, 5 plus years ago, some sweet passenger said, he looks just like you. I screamed in my head, JUST LIKE ME IF I WERE GUATEMALAN, right!
But, almost 6 is going through a phase of contrariness and surprise hyperactivity (we call it spazzy) perhaps as an attempt to get attention after the arrival of his dear baby sister, maybe due to too much apple juice. So, here we were at the check out counter of the store he didnt want to go to and he was helping put groceries on the conveyor belt and he started tossing the food up there, a bit wildly and the check out clerk came down on him like a load of bricks. Was it because he was brown? HOW DO YOU KNOW?
Of course, I start mentally checking us out. How do we appear? We were all in our dog clothes from walking the dog and I looked at him and he had some extra smile from some miscellaneous food or beverage and is badly in need of a haircut, even perhaps a meeting with a hair-brush, and there I am in my Target Tie Dye, the baby carrier, with Miss Thing, who is BLACK and my dog clothes, so not our white table cloth best, but....if he were white, he would just have that summertime unkempt look, so Martha's Vinyard, CA style...we were just walking the dog, right?
I have read as a family of color you need to watch what you wear more. I do believe it is true.
She back pedaled, and as he was being spazzy, I didn't intervene. (Was that a MISTAKE?) We talked about it in the car and I said it had made me really mad that she told him to behave, as he was my child, but I also said he needed to think about behaving in public some. (After the conveyor belt incident, he went to tease the baby, probably in an attempt to be cure, and bit her foot...the baby cried. PERFECT timing, my kind, generous, excellent son.) I, at the time, decided that the natural consequence of the first situation was that he have to listen to her opinions on the matter, but I worry that I may need to protect him more. The natural consequence of the small nibble was to decamp and get OUT of the store.
Until I did the double take about what we looked like, I didnt even THINK of RACE. Why? Because I am white, why would race be important? But, there was something in the quickness of her snap. OK, maybe she is a snappy person at the end of her shift, but, he is just 5....and gorgeous (not that I am biased or anything), and my kid. So what if he is a bit sloppy after a dog walk, right?
Why is it always at the grocery store? Wall-Mart, Safeway, filling in your brand here....
The bummer is that there is no way to tell, was it because of race or not, but to be brown in this world (with a black sister) and have people treat you decently is not always easy. We are beginning to learn that together, but ultimately, it will be his job.
I don't want him unprepared. I don't know if I can prepare him.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
She crawls, she is on the move
Okay, old news now, but miss B crawls. She is an expert.
On the 21st of July she moved two inches forward in the morning and 2 inches in the afternoon, and was delighted and a bit freaked out. She had been going backwards for a while, but on Sunday July 25, two months after she came home, she started crawling. She is amazing. She has immediately started sitting on her heals and trying to think about being upright. WOW. Balance is a trip for her, so today alone she fell three times and cried. Oh well. That is what the cranial work is for, right?
The Cranial Massage is going great. Her head is way more symmetrical, and she has relaxed a ton. Her muscles are much less tense, I'd say a bit more than 50% of the way there and her nervous system much more integrated. She is very, very active, but she finally likes the Ergo carrier. I have used the Bjorn, but it it an old style and hurts my back.
Young Master E is sick. He got a high fever last Tuesday night and had to miss fishy camp for the rest of the week. An icky virus that wasnt strep, which is a bacterial infection. Didnt eat anything for a week. Struggled to get him to swallow some liquids, but luckily he stayed hydrated enough. A diet of ginger ale, TV and I-Pad makes a fever boy okay, I guess. He always runs a high fever, so with Advil it goes down to 101, and without it hits 103 and above pretty much right away. Sore throat, two doctor visits, and now, he STILL has a small fever. He is better, but it isnt quite done. Darn it. The doctor at the after hours clinic this weekend said if he still had a fever on Monday, he should get a test for mono. Bummer.
The plus is, MDH was home. He hung with E and I hung with missy almost all weekend. She and I slept in E's bed of all places. She is really calming down and starting to prefer me. We went to a Party for Carolyn visiting from France and B was really happy to see people and readily went to them with no obvious distress. Happy to see her auntie Beth and godfather Ed, laughed outright at Ted and loved up Kristen and was happy with Carolyn and Chris's friend Judy.
But....today, she was clingy and wouldn't sleep for more than 30 minutes at a stretch. I guess I should keep her a bit closer, but she needs to move with the crawling thing. FLOOR TIME. I must get on the floor a bunch, hang out and be with her. I did today, and I also carried her when she got upset. She LOVES the new carrier and looks up, sees me, and cracks up. We went on a nice walk and she fell asleep. floor time, carry time, floor time, sleep.
A nice part about E being sick is she and I have hung out and connected, meeting just a bit more. E is an amazing brother and loves to play with her. It is hard to keep them apart. I hope we all stay healthy. Bummer is I sort of miss him, even though he is around. Just we are not as in sync.
Such an amazing experience, to have the two of them in our lives. We are so incredibly lucky they came home to us. I try to remember that when I am cranky, tired of doing the mounds of dishes, tired of playing BATMAN or BEN 10, and I dont want to clean up the cereal that I let her play with and now has hardened on the high chair. I didnt let E do that kind of thing and he hates getting messy. it almost killed me today to let her do it and I made her take a shower afterward. She loved it.
We did two activities from the OUT OF SYNC CHILD HAS FUN, and incredible book my sister lent to me, which has great ideas for things to do with all kids. Wrapped E up like a mummy, twice and did some shaving cream craziness and E "shaved" with his father. He didnt want us to post the picture, so I wont, but boy he was cute. Tomorrow, he is going to become a burrito and a caterpillar that turns into a butterfly.
E missed Andrea. So do I.
We were going to grandma's tomorrow, but I have to wait and see what the doctor says and if he has a fever still. Bummer.
I am so glad no one else got the virus as it was icky.
Found some amazing sponsorship programs today. One for Guatemala and one for Ethiopia. Here is what I found:
http://coeef.org/
http://www.commonhope.org/index.htm
With the economic downturn many people are having to not sponsor their children. Help them stay in school.
On the 21st of July she moved two inches forward in the morning and 2 inches in the afternoon, and was delighted and a bit freaked out. She had been going backwards for a while, but on Sunday July 25, two months after she came home, she started crawling. She is amazing. She has immediately started sitting on her heals and trying to think about being upright. WOW. Balance is a trip for her, so today alone she fell three times and cried. Oh well. That is what the cranial work is for, right?
The Cranial Massage is going great. Her head is way more symmetrical, and she has relaxed a ton. Her muscles are much less tense, I'd say a bit more than 50% of the way there and her nervous system much more integrated. She is very, very active, but she finally likes the Ergo carrier. I have used the Bjorn, but it it an old style and hurts my back.
Young Master E is sick. He got a high fever last Tuesday night and had to miss fishy camp for the rest of the week. An icky virus that wasnt strep, which is a bacterial infection. Didnt eat anything for a week. Struggled to get him to swallow some liquids, but luckily he stayed hydrated enough. A diet of ginger ale, TV and I-Pad makes a fever boy okay, I guess. He always runs a high fever, so with Advil it goes down to 101, and without it hits 103 and above pretty much right away. Sore throat, two doctor visits, and now, he STILL has a small fever. He is better, but it isnt quite done. Darn it. The doctor at the after hours clinic this weekend said if he still had a fever on Monday, he should get a test for mono. Bummer.
The plus is, MDH was home. He hung with E and I hung with missy almost all weekend. She and I slept in E's bed of all places. She is really calming down and starting to prefer me. We went to a Party for Carolyn visiting from France and B was really happy to see people and readily went to them with no obvious distress. Happy to see her auntie Beth and godfather Ed, laughed outright at Ted and loved up Kristen and was happy with Carolyn and Chris's friend Judy.
But....today, she was clingy and wouldn't sleep for more than 30 minutes at a stretch. I guess I should keep her a bit closer, but she needs to move with the crawling thing. FLOOR TIME. I must get on the floor a bunch, hang out and be with her. I did today, and I also carried her when she got upset. She LOVES the new carrier and looks up, sees me, and cracks up. We went on a nice walk and she fell asleep. floor time, carry time, floor time, sleep.
A nice part about E being sick is she and I have hung out and connected, meeting just a bit more. E is an amazing brother and loves to play with her. It is hard to keep them apart. I hope we all stay healthy. Bummer is I sort of miss him, even though he is around. Just we are not as in sync.
Such an amazing experience, to have the two of them in our lives. We are so incredibly lucky they came home to us. I try to remember that when I am cranky, tired of doing the mounds of dishes, tired of playing BATMAN or BEN 10, and I dont want to clean up the cereal that I let her play with and now has hardened on the high chair. I didnt let E do that kind of thing and he hates getting messy. it almost killed me today to let her do it and I made her take a shower afterward. She loved it.
We did two activities from the OUT OF SYNC CHILD HAS FUN, and incredible book my sister lent to me, which has great ideas for things to do with all kids. Wrapped E up like a mummy, twice and did some shaving cream craziness and E "shaved" with his father. He didnt want us to post the picture, so I wont, but boy he was cute. Tomorrow, he is going to become a burrito and a caterpillar that turns into a butterfly.
E missed Andrea. So do I.
We were going to grandma's tomorrow, but I have to wait and see what the doctor says and if he has a fever still. Bummer.
I am so glad no one else got the virus as it was icky.
Found some amazing sponsorship programs today. One for Guatemala and one for Ethiopia. Here is what I found:
http://coeef.org/
http://www.commonhope.org/index.htm
With the economic downturn many people are having to not sponsor their children. Help them stay in school.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Pictures, Pictures, Pictures....
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
8 days a week
Rumsey is snoring. In our new house, the floor must be cold, cause Rumsey has decided he needs to sleep in the family bed. Great. Between one large standard poodle, and almost 6 year old, my dear husband, there is so little room for me or the baby. I guess we could use another bed. Someday, E will sleep in his new bunk bed all night. And guilt about not bringing the baby in for the whole night is an entirely different post.
Today is Zeno day. The day Zeno was born. He died sometime before the 26 of July and was born on the morning of the 28. 41 weeks he was with us. Rumsey was a puppy. A happy puppy at the time; we knew his life was going to change, but not the way it did. He tried so hard to take care of us, such a big job for a young dog. He still tries, which wears him out. He is so very good to us. He isnt very friendly to lots of people, but he cares so much for us, he just doesnt have room.
It's funny to miss Zeno this year with Lulu home, our house just unpacked some more, and crammed into shape for MDH's family to arrive. I have to remember that people's hearts are large, they just crack open to let more love in if you let them; loving E and B doesnt mean we dont love Zeno, our boy who didnt come home. Sometimes it hurts, even 8 years later. At least it doesn't hurt every single day, all day long. How does one remember, every day is a gift?
this is what 8 years is like.
(Now, they are all snoring. Okay, Rumsey stopped, but MDH, E and B. Enough. Maybe I should go sleep in the new bunk bed.)
Today is Zeno day. The day Zeno was born. He died sometime before the 26 of July and was born on the morning of the 28. 41 weeks he was with us. Rumsey was a puppy. A happy puppy at the time; we knew his life was going to change, but not the way it did. He tried so hard to take care of us, such a big job for a young dog. He still tries, which wears him out. He is so very good to us. He isnt very friendly to lots of people, but he cares so much for us, he just doesnt have room.
It's funny to miss Zeno this year with Lulu home, our house just unpacked some more, and crammed into shape for MDH's family to arrive. I have to remember that people's hearts are large, they just crack open to let more love in if you let them; loving E and B doesnt mean we dont love Zeno, our boy who didnt come home. Sometimes it hurts, even 8 years later. At least it doesn't hurt every single day, all day long. How does one remember, every day is a gift?
this is what 8 years is like.
(Now, they are all snoring. Okay, Rumsey stopped, but MDH, E and B. Enough. Maybe I should go sleep in the new bunk bed.)
Sunday, July 11, 2010
random thoughts & pictures from the past....
It is late. I played a sweet little show in SF at a bookstore. They have gotten grants to underwrite their music series and it is wonderful to play for a darling audience while surrounded by books. I played between the jazz record section and the travel section. Feels like a nice place to be.
And then we had some friends over from Ethiopia and they brought wonderful Ethiopian food. the boys played in the pool, and we ate and enjoyed our new house. What a treat. B loved everyone. I was late, cause of the gig, but it worked out.
I cant find the cord to download pictures. Great. Having a baby makes it impossible to finish any task, or so it seems to me. But she is so worth it.
I am going to post some random pictures from our Ethiopia trip and a few of B, since I cant find the cord. I also went back and posted some pictures to go with my old posts, but I feel as if I have so little time, and back to that, I feel as if I can never finish a task.
This one is a picture of B and her friend, warming in the sun for their 20 minutes of morning sun a day. Important for babies with brown skin. I guess it is now recommended for all children. B got mad at one point when her friend didnt smile and notice her.
MDH got printer ink today. YEAH! I deposited half the checks last week. The garage is suddenly a mess. I want so badly to empty it out, but both DH and I cant imagine getting that done. E has circus camp this week and i hope it is a blast.
here are the pics
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
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?
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?
Monday, June 28, 2010
The smell of Ethiopia
Today, we went to the US Ethiopian Football match in San Jose. (http://www.esfna.net/)
Yes, they meet every year, in a different city and play football (soccer) and have a festival. Yes, we were the only white people there, but we had B and E, and that makes us white on the outside and brown and black in our hearts. Yes, we couldn't figure out where we were supposed to stop, park or go inside, but once that was worked out, it was fun.
As we were finally parked and walking in the heat towards the side entrance that was the actual entrance, we passed by the food vendors. The smells of Ethiopia, Ingera, Berberé and stewed meats, cooking and filling the air, several trucks passed by the busy Alma street between 10th and 7th, and the smell of diesel fuel completed the perfume, and it was just like Addis. B, the dear girl, stopped fussing the moment she smelled the food and started smiling and talking away. (She has some lovely sounds, very advanced for a baby, we often hear ones that sound like Eli. Last night, Mitch and I swore she said Daddy.....)
But her immediate interest. That made it perfect right away. She was so happy to smell Ethiopia. It makes me smile, wistfully.
It was hot, and there were so few people there on day two, early in the matches, in the heat of the day, that there were just a few people clustered in the shade, watching the games. We ambled over, me, with the B in the Bjorn, Eli, looking fine in his Ethiopian Alphabet yellow T-shirt, Andrea, and my dear sister Caroline. We plopped ourselves down and started watching the game. Everyone smiled at Lulu-B and luckily, because of the world cup and Caroline's tireless attentions as the world's best Aunt, and a bit of thanks to my nephews, suddenly, Caro knows some of the rules of soccer and she carefully explained the game to Eli as I tried to entertain the fussy, teething B. As usual, E and B were the youngest children there.
As B only really wanted people to stop everything and smile at her, I walked around with her a bit. People are very nice and kind to speak with us and are often very kind. They are very polite and talk to her, which she loves, loves, loves. It is a strange thing to be the mother to a child of another culture, another race and one becomes very aware of the occasional cross look, and wants to stay within certain norms, but she is my daughter and I want her to know her people. It is up to us, her parents to be uncomfortable, or get the occasional cross look, and yet still reach out and say hello to new people, to try to find bridges to her people. Ethiopians make it an easy adventure; I find that so many have such big hearts and are very compassionate and willing to spend some time speaking with us. And she smiles.
She had her picture taken by one of the organizers of the event.
Both of the teams E picked won, we got a little bit of Ethiopian food and wandered home and jumped in the pool. E wanted to stay and watch another match. He was having fun. And the food was really just started to get ready. It promised to be a nice evening.
B was so excited by it all that she skipped her afternoon nap and had it at 6 pm, woke up and had some prunes and rice cereal, played, had a bottle and passed out. She then sang for another 25 minutes. She really does make some interesting sounds!
We will return this Friday for Ethiopia day. I hope it is amazing and she likes and survives the crowds. I think it should be fun. I hope it becomes a tradition.
Yes, they meet every year, in a different city and play football (soccer) and have a festival. Yes, we were the only white people there, but we had B and E, and that makes us white on the outside and brown and black in our hearts. Yes, we couldn't figure out where we were supposed to stop, park or go inside, but once that was worked out, it was fun.
As we were finally parked and walking in the heat towards the side entrance that was the actual entrance, we passed by the food vendors. The smells of Ethiopia, Ingera, Berberé and stewed meats, cooking and filling the air, several trucks passed by the busy Alma street between 10th and 7th, and the smell of diesel fuel completed the perfume, and it was just like Addis. B, the dear girl, stopped fussing the moment she smelled the food and started smiling and talking away. (She has some lovely sounds, very advanced for a baby, we often hear ones that sound like Eli. Last night, Mitch and I swore she said Daddy.....)
But her immediate interest. That made it perfect right away. She was so happy to smell Ethiopia. It makes me smile, wistfully.
It was hot, and there were so few people there on day two, early in the matches, in the heat of the day, that there were just a few people clustered in the shade, watching the games. We ambled over, me, with the B in the Bjorn, Eli, looking fine in his Ethiopian Alphabet yellow T-shirt, Andrea, and my dear sister Caroline. We plopped ourselves down and started watching the game. Everyone smiled at Lulu-B and luckily, because of the world cup and Caroline's tireless attentions as the world's best Aunt, and a bit of thanks to my nephews, suddenly, Caro knows some of the rules of soccer and she carefully explained the game to Eli as I tried to entertain the fussy, teething B. As usual, E and B were the youngest children there.
As B only really wanted people to stop everything and smile at her, I walked around with her a bit. People are very nice and kind to speak with us and are often very kind. They are very polite and talk to her, which she loves, loves, loves. It is a strange thing to be the mother to a child of another culture, another race and one becomes very aware of the occasional cross look, and wants to stay within certain norms, but she is my daughter and I want her to know her people. It is up to us, her parents to be uncomfortable, or get the occasional cross look, and yet still reach out and say hello to new people, to try to find bridges to her people. Ethiopians make it an easy adventure; I find that so many have such big hearts and are very compassionate and willing to spend some time speaking with us. And she smiles.
She had her picture taken by one of the organizers of the event.
Both of the teams E picked won, we got a little bit of Ethiopian food and wandered home and jumped in the pool. E wanted to stay and watch another match. He was having fun. And the food was really just started to get ready. It promised to be a nice evening.
B was so excited by it all that she skipped her afternoon nap and had it at 6 pm, woke up and had some prunes and rice cereal, played, had a bottle and passed out. She then sang for another 25 minutes. She really does make some interesting sounds!
We will return this Friday for Ethiopia day. I hope it is amazing and she likes and survives the crowds. I think it should be fun. I hope it becomes a tradition.
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