Love is Aquatic

The Problem with Jeremy Lin

2012-02-17T10:30:00.000-08:00

We haven’t been watching as much basketball as we typically do. Or at least I haven’t been watching as much. It’s mostly a lack of interest on my part now that Brandon Roy is no longer playing for the Blazers coupled with the fact that we’re trying to keep our son from watching too much television although I do have to say, he appears to enjoy basketball as much as Ben. He even says, “Go Blazers!” but I’m sure you can figure out where he got that from.

So, I don’t really know, from watching, what all the fuss is over Jeremy Lin’s playing. Oh, I hear he’s scored more points in his first something than anyone since 1976 (including Kobe Bryant and Michael Jordan, haha suckers) but that doesn’t really mean a lot to me. What interests me the most is the fact that he’s Asian American. Now, I know Americans have short memories about stuff but it’s not like he’s the first Asian to ever play the sport. There was this really tall guy named Yao Ming, who has since retired but come on people. Maybe it’s the fact that Lin is actually American that thrills people? Nevertheless, I do recognize and appreciate the fact that it means a great deal for Asian basketball fans to see themselves reflected on the court. It’s not something that typically happens in the NBA.

The other interesting thing is the fact that Lin went to Harvard. According to my husband, Harvard isn’t necessarily a school known for producing hot basketball stars. Nerds? Yes. Basketball stars? Not so much. So that means that not only is Lin a great basketball player but he’s also a super smart one. He got a degree in Economics. I can’t imagine that’s an easy feat at Harvard. But maybe it is. Maybe Economics is like getting your degree in Professional Golf Management at NMSU.

Anyway…one thing that has come from all of this are the problematic *Linsanity memes. You can read about it here from Racialicious. One of the things that is most concerning is that apparently the only Asian countries that exist are Japan and China. Nevermind the fact that Lin is of Taiwanese decent, and there is a whole conversation about Taiwanese verses Chinese and ethnicity versus nationality, etc. But are Americans really that ignorant that they don’t understand there are a whole host of other countries on the other side of the world besides China and Japan? STOP CONFLATING THE TWO. Americans already have an image of being xenophobic and misinformed, do you really need to reinforce it? LOOK AT A MAP. See all those other countries that are to the right of India? Those are other Asian countries.

The other thing that bugs me (yes, I know there really aren’t just two) is the use of the “yellow” mamba. I know you think you’re being all cute and tongue-in-cheek because Kobe is the Black Mamba (which is the actual name for a very deadly snake) and some pasty dude who plays for the Bulls is the White Mamba but trust me, no matter how complimentary you think you’re being, Asians don’t like being called yellow. Blazers’ fans called Joel Przybilla the “Vanilla Gorilla” which use to bug the ever living shit out of me. If he was black you wouldn’t be calling him “Gorilla” would you? Oh, I’m sure some dumb racist would but come on. We don’t really need an entire history lesson about using “ape” and “monkey” to denigrate people of African descent do we?

Okay…the very last thing (told you there weren’t just two) that really struck me is this post by Deanna Fei. It was actually a very lovely (despite the take on violence) commentary on what the popularity of Lin does for young Asian children. She discussed the fact that Asian men are generally emasculated in the US. They are seen as effeminate and weak. Jeremy Lin flips that stereotype (I would also assert that Manny Pacquiao does this even more). He is a strong, both physically and mentally, role model for young Asian men. I love that. I love that he exists for those young, Asian men. I also would contend that if martial arts were more popular in this country there would be a whole host of other strong, Asian role models available but that's a whole other complex issue of why certain sports rise to the top in the US but, others (futbol? hello?) that are ridiculously popular in other countries, don't.

What her piece got me thinking about is how the inverse is true for my son. In the United States young, black males are hyper-masculinized. They are seen as stronger, more athletic, virile, etc. Thus, they are seen as threats. So, while Fei was concerned about the emasculation of her son, and happy that Lin flips that script, her op-ed got me thinking about the opposite of that and how I can combat that. What role models exist that refute those stereotypes? I’m not talking about Urkel either, please with that. I’m talking about strong but smart and caring Black role models? I know of several just off the top of my head but what say you? Dear readers, any suggestions? Do any others of you who are raising Black boys also think about strategies to combat this?

*I cannot tell you how much I despise that phrase. No, seriously.

Mr. Littles Turns Two

2012-02-16T21:29:00.000-08:00

Nana and Pop Pop (Ben's parents) were in town for Babes big party day. It was so nice to have them, they were such a great support and I have to say that Babes has been talking non-stop about Pop Pop since they left. He loves his Nana too, but Pop Pop takes the cake!

I high-fived him today for climbing the stairs all by himself (As I stood directly behind him, I'm no dummy) and he said, "Pop Pop?"

The other day we were in a restaurant and a lady with light blonde hair walked by and he asked, "Nana?" It's hard to explain to a two year old the idea of distance.

Here are some photos from the big day and the big visit. As you can tell the harmonica was a HUGE hit. And we've been hearing it ever since. This kid has rhythm.

I'm on a roll/Entry for a contest because I don't have enough photos of Mr. Littles around this place

2012-02-16T21:25:00.001-08:00

Semi-Feral Mama has a contest on her blog to win a Picture It On Canvas.

But don't bother entering because I'm totally going to win.

Liebster Blog Award

2012-02-16T20:55:00.000-08:00

I was so graciously nominated for a Liebster Blog Award by this the adoptive mommy diaries lovely lady.

The Liebster Blog Award is for blogs that have less than 200 followers so that others can help spread the word about the blogs that they enjoy. I love this idea, it's so sweet for other bloggers to support each other and help folks with similar interests find one another. Wonderful.

The rules for this simple award are:

1. Show your appreciation to the blogger who nominated you by linking back to their blog.

2. Nominate five other blogs (200 followers or less) by posting a comment on their blogs.

3. Post the award on your blog.

4. Check out what the other up-and-coming blogs have to offer.

So, here are my nominees:

the adoptive mommy diaries

Semi-Feral Mama

Our Own Rooney

Couple Raises Child

Under the Acacia Tree

As you can tell, I really like adoption blogs. There is a sense of community I find on these pages when I've only really met two of the women in real life (and actually liked both of them!).

Hopefully none of them mind me sharing.

Mindful Monday...Dr. King addition

2012-01-16T11:00:00.000-08:00

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy."
Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
Strength to Love, 1963

23 months.

2012-01-06T21:09:00.000-08:00

Our boy is almost 2.

He is 23 months.

It seems so strange to me that we have a 2 year old but it's pretty loud and clear. Stress on the LOUD.

This boy is a whirling dervish. He is a running, jumping, throwing, shrieking, constantly in motion 2 year old. His vocabulary grows daily and we're really impressed with his clear pronunciation.

He says "Hi!" to everyone we see. Repeatedly. We're trying to explain to him that once is enough and that, sometimes, people don't want to say "Hi" back but he's 2, he doesn't always get what we're saying and mostly disregards it anyway.

We are smack in the beginning of toddlerhood and I find myself wondering what happened to that sweet, round baby he use to be. How did he get replaced with an obstinate, stubborn, little boy?

I'm told that this phase doesn't last. We have friends that have 3 and 4 and 5 year olds. They tell me that, eventually, they outgrow this phase. It's a little hard to remember that when a bowl of applesauce ("hot sauce") is being dumped on Carl's head or a plate of peas is flying across the dining room.

We do still get snuggles and kisses and he still likes to sit on our laps and read books. I eat those moments up because I know that a day will come when all of that will disgust him. I wish I could press pause sometimes. I'm sure every mother feels that way at some point.

Christmas time was here again...

2012-01-04T20:58:00.000-08:00

We spent Christmas with my family in California. I have to say that having a child is so much easier when you have family available to offset the demands that an almost two year old can have on you. Both of our families live in other states and I find myself getting jealous lately of my friends who have family that live in town. We made a conscious decision to live in Portland, not because we wanted to get away from family but because we didn't want to live in Las Cruces, NM anymore. As we've gotten older and, of course, with hindsight, we realize that there were wonderful things about being closer to our families as well as being in New Mexico. We still love Portland and know we are lucky to live in this great town, but our itching to move elsewhere is growing and we find ourselves discussing a move that will take us away from Oregon and closer to family.

Here are a few photos that sum up the great time we had over the holiday...

Opening presents at home before our trip:

After landing in Oakland, we met my family for a delicious Chinese lunch. Then we took Little Babes to Children's Fairyland. It's a 60 year old amusement park based on fairytales. It was appropriately run down and mildly creepy which Ben and I appreciated. Mr. Littles completely enjoyed himself and didn't notice the creepiness at all.

Christmas Eve and Christmas at my Auntie and Uncle's home, nicknamed Hotel Carino because everyone has stayed there and the door is always open. I don't think I've ever known someone to be turned away by my amazing Auntie and Uncle and no one walks in without hearing, "Are you hungry? Have you eaten?" which is Tagalog for "I love you."

And my favorite photo of the trip...

Little Babes was hanging out with my brother and my cousin came up to the window to say hello. There is just something about this photo that is so inviting and reminds me of why I love my family even when they drive me crazy.

Who boycotts greeting cards?

2011-12-09T09:41:00.000-08:00

There’s been a strange battle in the adoption community against UNICEF. This holiday season there is even a boycott being staged for people to not buy UNICEF holiday cards as a way to show how angry adoptive parents are at UNICEF’s position on inter country adoption which you can read in full here.

Now, I’ve read the statement. It basically states that intercountry adoption should be the absolute last resort for children. It encourages family permanency, recognizing that the first choice for children should be to stay with their family of origin or at least in their country of origin instead of being removed and sent to another country. It clearly supports the Hague Convention on Intercountry Adoption. The statement points out that over the last 30 years the amount of adoptions from typically poorer “sending” countries to typically wealthier “receiving” countries has grown and with that growth has come corruption and fraud and basically adoption has turned from being a last resort into an adoption industry.

I do not disagree with a single point that UNICEF is making. So the fact that an adoptive parent from the US is writing articles calling for a boycott of UNICEF’s holiday cards based on their position on intercountry adoption really aggravates me. The author, Andrea Poe, even goes so far as to call the position that UNICEF is taking “radical” and “against orphans.” Really? Radical? The fact that UNICEF is clearly calling for support of these children in their own countries of origin is radical? I wonder how many people are taking the time to read the full statement. How many adoptive parents might actually agree with the radical statement if they did take the time to read it?

We all want what is best for our children. For some of those children it means that their families needed to place them outside of their homes. For some of those children it means that they are best served by being adopted outside of their birth countries. But for all of these children staying in their family of origin should be the preferred plan, it just isn’t always possible.

I love my son. And I am so lucky that he was placed in our home. But I think of his first family, so far away from him. And I know that his birth father would have been overjoyed if someone had said to him, “Here, you don’t need to relinquish him. We’ll come up with a plan to make it possible for you to buy formula and we’ll come up with a way for him to stay at a care center during the day while you work so you can have him with you at home when you’re not working. We’ll find a way to preserve your family so you and your other 2 children don’t have to experience another tremendous loss.” I believe that is what UNICEF is advocating for and I find nothing radical or boycott worthy about it. And I also think it’s pretty disgusting that any adoptive parent would not be doing the same work that UNICEF is doing, inching towards a day when families have more options and where preservation replaces the big business of adoption.

First hot cocoa.

2011-11-25T20:35:00.000-08:00

Wordless Wednesday

2011-11-23T10:50:00.001-08:00

Mindful Monday

2011-11-21T09:02:00.000-08:00

“I want there to be a place in the world where people can engage in one another’s differences in a way that is redemptive, full of hope and possibility. Not this 'In order to love you, I must make you something else.' That’s what domination is all about, that in order to be close to you, I must possess you, remake and recast you.”

― bell hooks, Reel To Real: Race, Sex, and Class at the Movies

NewBlackMan: Kevin Powell: Joe Paterno, Herman Cain, Men, Sex, and Power

2011-11-13T09:47:00.000-08:00

NewBlackMan: Kevin Powell: Joe Paterno, Herman Cain, Men, Sex, and Power

Wow. Just wow. Thank you, Kevin Powell, for being an ally.

the dapperest

2011-11-10T20:36:00.001-08:00

Immediately after I said, "You're gonna fall and break your face!"

Yes, sometimes I am my mother.

compassion fatigue.

2011-11-10T20:33:00.001-08:00

I have it, big time. And then I just feel apathetic towards everything. Or grumpy.

I know you know what I mean.

Mind.Blown.

2011-11-03T20:21:00.001-07:00

Semi-Feral Mama posted this link and it's probably the best opinion I've read on international adoption. I Found myself agreeing with Cornell on every point. It was a relief to have someone put into such eloquent words what I had been grappling with for over a year and a half. But it was this paragraph in particular that really floored me:

"The way I think of it now is that my own action was what the literary theorist Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak has called an 'enabling violation.' I enabled my daughter’s life by adopting her, but in another sense it was a violation for my daughter, who was uprooted from her home, her language and her country of birth. I may have violated the people of Paraguay by participating in an adoption process that the vast majority of Paraguayans deeply disapproved of and ultimately sought to end. I have of course tried to make sure that my daughter always knew the story, not only of her adoption, but of what I could gather of her birth mother’s decision. But I will never feel at ease until my daughter and I visit her birth mother and hear it directly from her."

Also, a list of events that Dr. John Raible is speaking at. Someday I really hope to catch him.

Halloweenies!

2011-11-02T09:59:00.000-07:00

Who knew that all I had to do to get Ben to shave his beard was get him to dress up for Halloween? I don't know what this says about us but, besides my glasses and Ben's shorts (hemmed on the fly!), we owned all those clothes.

Sadness.

2011-11-01T09:00:00.001-07:00

I've written before that I wasn't raised as a Filipina because my mom, the Filipina, wasn't super proud of her heritage for various reasons still unbeknownst to me. But just because I wasn't raised Filipina didn't mean that I wasn't treated differently because of they way other kids saw me and my sister (who is also Chinese). So I clearly remember being taunted with the pull-your-eyes-down-Ching-Chong thing that kids like to do when they aren't told by their parents that it is hurtful and racist. I don't remember a lot about my childhood but that one sticks out like a beacon.

Which is why this post by an adoptive mother is so very disappointing.

And sad.

And I wonder, in 15 years, when her daughter is old enough to realize that her mother posted that photo on her blog and others commented that it was "hilarious" and her daughter has more of an awareness of what it means to grow up Chinese in the US of A, in a white adoptive family, what will her daughter think of her mother then? Will she be sad too?

And I think, instead of reinforcing the negative stereotypes that our children of color will be bombarded with their entire lives, why aren't we arming them with the tools to feel empowered and to battle those stereotypes instead? Why aren't we arming our white children with tools of solidarity and brother/sisterhood so that they know teasing based on ethnicity is not tolerated?

Old friends and a trip to the coast...

2011-10-22T13:40:00.000-07:00

I have several friends that I have been lucky enough to have in my life for many many years. They live far away and I only see them every few years or so but still feel a strong bond to them. Mostly I think it's from having weathered the agony of middle and high school.

Last weekend one of my oldest and dearest traveled from Georgia to Oregon to meet Mr. Littles and have a vacation. We went to Hood River, and spent 2 days in Seaside. It was glorious. We had perfect fall weather with a lovely drive through the Gorge to Hood River. Days like that remind me of why I live in Oregon and how good we have it here.

I had never spent time in Seaside. To be quite honest, I think I was stuck up about it. I thought it was just a trashy and rundown beach town. So wrong! Loved Seaside! The baby had a fantastic time running in the sand, playing with my friend's 13 year old daughter and eating junk food. I can't wait to do it again.

Pumpkin Patchin

2011-10-11T06:58:00.001-07:00

Now that you know, what's your excuse?

2011-10-09T13:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know how I didn't know before how horrible the cocoa industry is. Maybe I heard but tuned it out because I love the by-product of the cocoa bean so much. Maybe I heard a little something about it but didn't pay attention because I was too busy to look into it further. But now that I know this:

"A report from the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture about cocoa farms in the Ivory Coast and other African countries estimated there were 284,000 children working on cocoa farms in hazardous conditions. Many of them have been taken from their families, or sold as servants. U.S. chocolate manufacturers have claimed they are not responsible for the conditions on cocoa plantations since they don't own them. This includes Hershey, Mars, Nestle, and the US division of Cadbury . . . who collectively represent pretty much every snack-size candy bar that will be available in stores this Halloween."*

...how can I even think of buying this mass produced chocolate that means tragedy for so many children?

And now that you know, how can you?

Here's a link to a list of places that source their chocolate/treats humanely and fairly.

*quote taken from this fantastic blog.

The best part of my day...

2011-09-30T13:59:00.001-07:00

The best part of my day is always day care pick up. When the weather is nice my pick up time usually coincides with Little Babes’ outside time. So, if I’m lucky, I can sneak in and peak through the fence and watch him at play. I love to watch him when he doesn’t know I’m looking.

Yesterday we had an experience that topped me being able to spy on my son. As we were walking out the door, a woman and her daughter were walking out with us. Little Babes is a dwaddler when he’s walking on his own. The woman and her daughter had gotten into their car, which was parked behind us, while I was still getting the baby into his carseat. I noticed the woman waving at TK and him just watching her.

She got out of her car and came up to me and asked, “Was he born here?”

I told her, “No, he’s Ethiopian.”

She said, “Oh yes! That is why he is so beautiful!” She is also Ethiopian and her daughter, who is 5, has been going to Little Babes’ day care since she was born. She asked me, “Why have I not seen you before?” and we just started chit chatting from there.

I’ve noticed that when I have met Ethiopians while I’m with the baby they are much more forward and open about their questions regarding TK’s background versus Americans who hem and haw around the subject and hint at what they really want to ask. It can be both refreshing and anxiety inducing.

This was not any different. She asked about his family but also told me about a girl she was sponsoring back home who was like a daughter to her who passed away from malaria. We chatted a bit about how sad it is that these illnesses claim the lives of so many Ethiopians when drugs exist to save them if they were easier to access.

Her daughter came out of the car while we were talking and the woman introduced her and spoke to her in Tigrinya (language of the people who live in Northern Ethiopia, near the Eritrean border).

Before they left she told me, “We should get them together to play!”

Yes yes yes. Let’s get them together to play.

Melkam Addis Amet! Ethiopian New Year, September 11th

2011-09-16T21:26:00.000-07:00

Baby by the Bay - The Carino Hospitality

2011-09-16T21:22:00.000-07:00

Baby by the Bay - The City part 2

2011-09-16T21:18:00.000-07:00

Baby by the Bay - The City

2011-09-15T20:45:00.000-07:00

Baby by the Bay - Napa and Bouchon

2011-09-15T20:40:00.001-07:00

Sunday Snapshots

2011-08-28T20:17:00.000-07:00

Part of doing so much during the summer is not having enough time or energy to write an actual post but I can only muster enough oompf to post some photos.

These are from our trip to the zoo. I'm not a big zoo fan for a variety of reasons but I did want to go to a show there so we ended up doing a mini tour which is really all the baby had stamina for.

These next photos are from our little pool and sprinkler party today. We had a few friends over to soak up the sun and eat some snacks.

Friday Photos

2011-08-26T20:55:00.001-07:00

We've been busily trying to finish our Summer Fun List. Lots of sun here lately, it actually feels like summer these days and we are trying to enjoy it before our long, grey fall/winter sets in.

We've met friends at an outdoor movie and concert.

We went to a friend's two year birthday party and bounced in a bounce house.

We did the Providence Bridge Pedal (13+ miles and 6 bridges).

We went berry picking.

And we've spent every day outside, soaking up some sun.

Vacation blues...

2011-08-26T11:54:00.000-07:00

You know you have the vacation blues when you are spending time on a Friday cruising through blogs instead of making the phone calls you're suppose to be making. Vacation, can't come soon enough.

Anyway.

I was visiting a blog that I hadn't been to in quite some time and came across this post that I thought would be interesting. I think that the author could have gone a little bit deeper but maybe that wasn't the goal. It's a good read, regardless. I added my comment to the discussion, of course.

Mindful Monday

2011-08-22T16:03:00.000-07:00

"When someone with the authority of a teacher, say, describes the world, and you are not in it, there is a moment of psychic disequilibrium, as if you looked into a mirror and saw nothing. Yet you know you exist and others like you, that this is a game with mirrors. It takes some strength of soul - and not just individual strength, but collective understanding - to resist this void, this nonbeing, into which are thrust, and to stand up, demanding to be seen and heard."
-Adrienne Rich

Time outs versus time ins - What the hell do I know about discipline?

2011-08-16T11:41:00.001-07:00

We were routinely spanked growing up. Both Ben and I were spanked by our parents and we turned out just fine. Neither one of us is violent, we don't hit other people (*ahem - sushi bar incidents not included). We didn't grow up to be serial killers or abusers.

However.

Early on, we had the discussion about discipline and I was of the firm belief that we would never, ever hit or spank our child. I was raised on the more abusive end of the discipline spectrum where verbal insults and a heavy hand were employed on a weekly basis. I know that I have a tendency to fly off the handle and go overboard in my emotions. I don't want to start with physical punishment because I am afraid of the temper that I have. I know this about myself so I know that physical punishment is not an option for me as a parent.

Of course now that I have a child, can look at his adorable face, I can't imagine ever even wanting to spank him. I can really only recall in the past 10 months one or two times that he has seriously pushed me near my limit. Not to the limit or over the limit but damn, was that limit within my eyesight. I ended up just putting my shrieking child in his crib and walking away, letting him shriek, until I was calm enough to be a loving, nurturing mama again.

Recently, Little Babes has been swiping at me and the dogs and occasionally at Ben. He does this when he's annoyed or frustrated or we have done something he does not like (like take away the remote control). Generally we say, "Don't hit. Mama doesn't hit and dada doesn't hit so you don't hit." We show him "Nice and soft." We show him on the dogs, "Pat soft." (Here I must say that spanking when a child hits has always boggled my mind. "You hit so and so, now I will spank you to show you that hitting is wrong." What kind of f-ed up logic is that?)

I know we're entering the dreaded hitting/biting phase of parenting and I am so not welcoming it or ready for it. We had our first Time In yesterday and as soon as he cried and said, "Mama!" I picked him up. Such a pushover.

I'm not a fan of Time Outs for our son because I don't think that removing him from all activity and the family is a good idea. For a little person who has already had so much taken away from him, I just don't think a Time Out sends the right message to him. "You're bad so we don't want to see you or hear you for one full minute." That just doesn't make sense to me at all.

So, blog readers (all 3 of you), any thoughts on Time Ins versus Time Outs? Anything that you've used to address hitting?

The Starving Kids in Africa...

2011-08-04T08:31:00.000-07:00

I happened to be at the mall yesterday during lunch. Well, that's not entirely true, I didn't "happen" to be there, I went with a specific purpose in mind. I was in "the Girl Store" as my brother-in-law called it the other day. They sell bath products but since they don't pay me to advertise I'll leave out the name. Anyway, I was in a hurry, looking for the thing that I had gone there to get, not simply browsing. I saw an older, white woman with her arms full of things and she must have walked up to her shopping companion, another older, white woman because woman #2 said, "What are you spending money on now? I'm going to tell all those starving kids in Africa!"

What?

Excuse me?

Did you just use the famine, the very real and heartbreaking famine in East Africa to guilt trip your friend about buying stuff?

Did you just use the death of thousands of children to shame your friend about spending money?

Along the lines of the post I wrote about removing the exaggeration of "starving" out of my everyday vocabulary, the idea that anyone would use the deaths of thousands of men,women and children in order to shame or poke fun at another person is mind-boggling to me.

There are many upsetting things about the famine in Somalia and Ethiopia.
The fact that there is little to no coverage about it in US media..
The fact that whent here is a story on Yahoo the comments that people post are so horrifying, so degrading...
The fact that every photo I see of a dying child makes me think of my own little babes who was once in that very same state...
The fact that despite the aid being sent to the famine afflicted areas very little headway is being made...
The fact that I have overwhelming guilt about my place of privilege which I know does absolutely nothing about any of this at all...

Maybe I got so upset about that woman's comment because it touched too close to home. What was I doing in the stupid "Girl Store" when there are women having to choose which dying child to leave on the side of the road as they make their way to the refugee camp in Kenya? What right to I have to even be wasting money like that when there are families the world over that need the 10 bucks I might as well have set on fire?

I know the guilt isn't going to do anyone any good. So for now I ask myself what good CAN I do? Where can I send my money? How can I help?

I think that's a good place to start.

Wordless Wednesday - Utah edition

2011-08-03T21:56:00.001-07:00

Tuesday Linkage

2011-08-02T15:42:00.001-07:00

Oh John Raible, you always nail it on the head. I can't wait until little babes is old enough to have conversations about your posts.
On Gotcha Day:
"Incidentally, don’t even get me started on 'Gotcha Day.' I can’t think of a more hurtful, insulting symbol of the pain of separation and loss that some adoptive parents have selfishly and insensitively turned into a celebration of their wish fulfillment through adoption. To me, “gotcha” is what you hear when your adversary suddenly surprises you with a mean-spirited trick or trap. And this expression is how adoptive parents choose to celebrate their success at becoming parents? But remember, language matters—and we can now analyze the real power behind the terms. “Gotcha Day” exists to satisfy parents’ need for approval and validation."

It is not okay that I have to HUNT for a story about the famine in East Africa. Hundreds of men, women and children are starving to death and I can't find news about it with out searching yet somehow The Bachelorette makes the front page of Yahoo News.

Because saying "I'm sorry" more than makes up for the comment, one of many from the GOP I might add.

Once again a nice way that the media skews their stories to make the youngest people of color look like thugs. They got busted this time but how many other times do they get away with it?

Sunday Snapshots

2011-07-24T13:31:00.001-07:00

Mindful Monday

2011-07-18T16:31:00.000-07:00

"A happy family is but an earlier heaven."
-George Bernard Shaw

Baby's first camping trip that wasn't...

2011-07-17T09:51:00.000-07:00

We decided to try to take the baby camping for his first time. I don't know why we did this because we really like being married to one another and don't necessarily go looking for added stress in our lives but last year the New Mexigonians (there's a bunch of New Mexicans who moved up here and a couple of Oregonians who have been absorbed into the group via marriage or friendship) had a great time and we thought it was a great idea to introduce the baby to the festivities.

The trip had been planned for over a month with a whole big group going. The closer it got to the weekend, several people started to bail on the trip and it ended up just being our little family coming for the first night and only 5 other people coming for the second. The destination was Hideaway Lake, a nice, small spot in the Mt. Hood National Forest. We'd been there before for Ben's birthday one year and it was a horrible experience. It rained the whole time, the tent got wet, a couple of people got completely soaked and it was just an all around miserable time. This year was going to be different.

But it wasn't.

First of all, we forgot so much stuff. As we were driving into Estacada, we realized we hadn't packed the chairs (sorry, I'm a wimpy camper and I need some chairs). We hadn't packed complete ingredients for meals. We didn't bring Little Babes any toys (he ended up throwing things, eating dirt and rocks, banging on the pots and pans, dragging the rope around and tormenting Petey). We had left the tarps in the other car.

Second of all, we couldn't even find Hideaway Lake. We drove around for 2.5 hours and 20 miles in the woods, looking for signs that weren't there and Forest Rt. signs that didn't exist. We did see the damage left from mud slides which was a tad disconcerting. After the drive (Little Babes was phenomenal the whole time. I was crankier than my 18 month old), we decided to go back down to the highway and go back to the other campgrounds and look for a spot. We ended up at the spot we were at last year, Fish Creek. It was a good site, the camp host said it was "the best," and we set up camp.

Again, Mr. Smalls was great. Yes, he wanted to get into EVERYTHING. I have since realized that traveling with a toddler is just that, traveling. It's not a vacation. A vacation will be when he is old enough to spend the weekend/week with Nana and Pop Pop or the Aunties in the Bay Area and Ababa and Emama can go to a different place to spend the weekend. But it wasn't horrible, it could have been worse.

However, when he was tired. OH MY. It was comical. He was rolling around in the tent, singing jibberish and saying, "Hi." He managed to fall asleep around 9:15-30ish. Ben and I barely made it up for much longer than that. When we woke up at 4:30am, it was raining and the baby was still asleep. We tossed and turned for a couple more hours and woke up to the rain really coming down.

Our tent was wet, there were leaks coming in and the baby was up and wanted to move around outside of the tent. We hadn't hung a tarp above us, we'd left a bunch of stuff outside on the table. We ended up packing everything up wet, in the rain and heading home. We paid for 2 nights and a bundle of firewood we never got. Plus we threw away our tent because it was filled with at least a gallon of water.

Next time, I think we'll sleep in a tent in the yard.

Safety First!

2011-07-09T20:39:00.001-07:00

First bike ride and he was screaming and shrieking with joy the whole time. At one point I looked over and he was clapping. Sweet babes.

Mischief Maker

2011-07-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

It's official, we have a toddler. Our round little babe has morphed into a slimmer, craftier little boy. It didn't happen overnight but it did happen fast. I look at photos of him from last October and November and I wonder who is this little boy and what happened to my baby who was able to sit still and lacked the hand/eye coordination to pull the jar of chokeable cough drops off the shelf.

He talks all the time now. Mostly a lot of babbling but he can mimic us really well. Our current favorites are: pansa (New Mexican all the way!), Petey, up (which he uses for up or down but whatever), uh oh (right before he throws something on the floor).

He climbs all over the place. Anything that can be climbed, will be climbed. (As I type this he is precariously standing on the arm of the couch, looking out the window with the shade cord in his mouth. I'm such a good mama.) He likes going to the park but still prefers to stare at people than actually playing with toys. He's gotten a little pickier when it comes to food. He's off most meats except for fish and hot dogs. He still eats any and every fruit and, of course, cheese.

We're still working on the attachment with Emama piece of things. A slow work in progress with minor set-backs (at least in my mind they are). He still prefers Ababa over Emama but I'm trying not to let it hurt my feelings which I know isn't his fault anyway.

Here are a couple of photos of my little curious boy. He has figured out how to open the cabinet where we keep the good stuff.

A few months ago, he was swimming in these pajamas. Sniff.

Summer Fun List

2011-07-09T07:43:00.000-07:00

Here is our first official Summer Fun List. Lots of other bloggers and friends make these lists and, as a lady who loves lists, I had to make one too. Summer starts late here in the Pacific NW but when it starts, it comes on with a vengeance and ferocity. Mostly I like how Northwesterners manage to pack a lot of summer fun into 2 short months. What a resourceful bunch.

"Benner, Bigger, Better"

2011-06-23T19:41:00.001-07:00

Happiest of birthdays to my husband. (I borrowed the title from my brother-in-law, Gabe, currently serving his mission in Brasil. That was from an email he sent to Ben yesterday.)

Hectic times in our household. Babes got sent home from day care and had to be out for another 24 hours for the pink eye that wasn't. Ben is in the midst of a massive culinary project that ends with a catered party (co-catered with our friend, Brian) on Saturday. Lots of pork including a whole pig, homemade chicharrones, kim chee, and pork pate. It seems like his birthday just snuck up on us with very little fan fare. Guess that happens more as the years tick by. I did manage to make a cake with strawberries from our yard and pea pesto linguine, peas also from the yard.* The garden is producing faster than we can get to it!

*Both recipes from thesmittenkitchen.com If you enjoy cooking or just looking at recipes, I highly recommend that site.

The Post Where I Write About How A White Person Told Me I'm Not Asian...

2011-06-17T09:28:00.000-07:00

You know, it took me a long time to get here. To the place where I was really interested in being a Filipina, where I proudly identified as Asian/Pacific Islander.

I grew up with a mother who wasn't really proud of her heritage. We never really discussed it but it seemed to me that being Filipina, in her mind, was equated with being poor, dirty, classless. I don't know if this belief system developed after moving to the US when she was 18, realizing that speaking English with an accent and having to access public services was a way that "othered" her in the minds of the dominant culture or if it was a belief she always held. I know that she was well off even by US standards of wealth, I know she was spoiled and use to getting her way when she was growing up in the Philippines. I am betting that it was the move to the US that really made her ashamed of her heritage and roots. But, of course, I'm just guessing at this point. I know from many of the things I've ready that immigrants often feel pushed into two different ways of coping with a new country: to completely assimilate, meaning leaving behind their birth cultures/languages/rituals or they can isolate and only surround themselves with other immigrants from their homelands. I've also read that the more an immigrant is able to effectively navigate between both cultures, the easier time they seem to have adjusting, mental health-wise.

So I was raised by my heritage-hating mother and my racist-as-all-get-out stepfather. We lived in a very diverse area of Virgina Beach. It's a big Navy town so there are many cultures represented there. I ate Americanized Filipino food but all my mother's relatives lived in other states so I didn't have that meaningful interaction that can really help young people develop their identities. I didn't meet my amazing Auntie Lita and Uncle Bob and all my crazy (and I mean that in the most beloved of ways) cousins until I was 10 years old. So I had no frame of reference or guidance about what it meant to be Filipina, what the culture was all about. I rarely heard Tagalog spoken in my home and I usually just giggled about it with my sister. We made fun of my mom's accent mercilessly. We were assholes.

But now, here I am...A Honky-Pina, trying to continue to grow in my knowledge of what that means and how I can make sure that my son, my American-Ethio-Pino son, knows about his mama's culture and, most importantly, his own. (His dada identifies as New Mexican but he is white and I know that my son will be schooled in the ways of the white world his entire life, lessons that won't always be easy ones, so I'm not particularly concerned about that. The New Mexican indoctrination has already begun, however.)

So when a white person whispers, "It's the *Asians* in their *Mercedes* who are really bad drivers" THIS Asian gets her hackles raised.

I said, "Why are you *whispering*?"

White co-worker, "Because it's politically incorrect."
(I hate that term so much. SO MUCH. Again, politically correct is the term people use when they want to be jerks and are about to say something completely offensive or off-putting. You're either respectful or a racist/classist/sexist/homophobic jerk. There's nothing correct or political about it.)

I say, "We're ASIAN." (My Honky-Pina co-worker was standing next to me. What are the chances that there are 2 of us in Portland, Oregon who happen to share an office? Someone, do a survey, please.)

White co-worker, "No you're not."

We both say, "Yes. We are."

White co-worker, "Oh Filipino. That's not Asian." (I think she said "That doesn't count" but I can't be sure.)

Me, "Yes. It is. And I'm a very good driver." (I'm not, I'm a HORRIBLE driver but fuck her.)

I walked out of the break room at that point. My co-worker came into our office and we just shook our heads. This white co-worker has said other things, nothing this blatant, but ignorant nonetheless. She also sent out a pretty offensive email mocking Asian names (I will note here that she didn't send it to any of the Asians in the office, I just happened to be shown it by another co-worker).

What could I do? I had already given a culture competency presentation the week before. Ms. White Co-Worker was SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO ME during it. What more could I do? The reason I was asked to give the presentation in the first place was that my manager thought it would be a good response to some of the things (the email being one of them that I brought to her attention) that had been happening in the office.

If I wanted to pursue it I'm sure I could. This health system is really gearing up for a big cultural competency intiative, which I am pleased to say that I am a part of, so I know they are taking things like this seriously (unlike the other health system where I work at where they could give a crap about their managers displaying racist jokes). But you know what?

I'm tired.

I just want to sit in the sun and play with my baby and husband and for a few days not think about how many horrible things are rattling around in the minds of people in this world and how they lack the filters on their mouths that prevent them from blurting them out.

Clearly nothing I say is going to change her mind. So I said nothing. I'm picking my battles and this one just isn't worth the fight.

But you can bet your ass I'm not going to be chumming it up with her any time soon.

Sunny Day

2011-06-05T17:37:00.000-07:00

We've been lucky to get a break in our otherwise dreary spring weather with a couple of sunny days sprinkled here and there. If you've never experienced Pacific NW weather then it will most likely be hard to describe what happens to Portlanders when the sun starts to shine, even if for just a couple of days. White legs everywhere, bikes, pedestrians, children run amok. Sunny, sweet chaos.

We pulled out the kiddie pool, which has actually never had a kid in it, bought an obnoxious plastic sprinkler thing and had a great time. The Little Babes loves water, loves the sun and loves to play with his mama and dada.

Even Carl got into the action. If by "action" you mean laying around in the shade and being cute.

This is the look I anticipate getting quite often in about 10 years, if not sooner.

Mindful Monday

2011-05-30T15:46:00.001-07:00

"As years passed away I have formed the habit of looking back upon that former self as upon another person, the remembrance of whose emotions has been a solace in adversity and added zest to the enjoyment of prosperity."
-Simon Newcomb

The post where I hyjack a comment I made...

2011-05-27T21:05:00.001-07:00

My new friend, LW, and her husband just returned from their trip to Ethiopia to meet their sweet daughter and go to court. They had to leave her there but will return in 8-12 weeks for their embassy appointment and to bring her back to Portland.

I'm not a crybaby but (coupled with a high emotional state and low physical state) I was bawling on the couch. Fun times, these post-parent Friday nights.

I'm not sure I adequately summed up certain parts of our trip to my Little Babes' homeland but this is the comment I left LW tonight:

"Where do I begin? I am literally crying as I read this post and I am so not a crybaby. But it reminded me so much of my experience too. I think that only people who have never witnessed a developing country ask questions phrased, 'Did you have a good time?' but when you’ve witnessed abject poverty and beauty the question is more like, 'How was the trip? Tell me about it.' all the time knowing you really can’t. When I came back from Ethiopia (and Haiti) there just wasn’t room or space for me to talk about it. Anything I wanted to say seemed inadequate, like I didn’t have the right words to explain the feeling that comes from the smell of a coffee ceremony or seeing a baboon on the road or hearing TK laugh for the first time with us. Words seemed to diminish thoughts that are larger than life inside of me.

I’m not a religious person. At all. But when Ben and I were able to take our sweet boy for a moment of solitude I honestly thought that is what reverence must feel like. This is what devoutly religious people feel when they have the sense that there is a greatness beyond their place in the world."

I still feel that way when I'm putting Little Babes to sleep. In the quiet of his room, when it's just the two of us, I'm in wonder of this small person for whom I've been trusted to care. There is an awe there that is more than just "My baby is great!" awe.

It is a feeling that there is a larger purpose to my life. This mother, with an atheist's heart, senses something more important than herself in those simple, serene moments.

Attachment

2011-05-23T20:55:00.001-07:00

So...there's the word that scares most parents, but especially the adoptive kind. I've been dealing with some jealousy that TK prefers Ben over me. He pushes me away, cries when Ben leaves (more like sobbing really), and basically wants nothing to do with me. He has preferred Ben for months but it's really ramped up lately.

I don't know what to do.

I've read a couple of books but it's hard to put any exercises into practice when I see him for such a short time. I've also been battling the day care sickness Little Babes has brought home for the last month so my energy level is low which doesn't help.

People give me well-meaning advice but it's hard to take it seriously when a) it's not from another adoptive parent and b) it's not from a parent who works full-time. I feel like those are both two very important particulars to my situation. Mostly people say "It's a phase."

But what if it's not? He's been in Portland for 8 months now, I thought we'd be a little further along than this but maybe I was being optimistic?

Here's my Little Babes on Mother's Day. A bittersweet day as all holidays tend to be.

After Mother's Day brunch. Running with a stick. I know, I know...bad mama. What can I say? He loves sticks.

221 Days

2011-04-28T08:36:00.000-07:00

The baby was in care in Ethiopia for 220 days. Today marks the 221st day that he has been with us. He has officially been with us longer than he was in care.

He was only with his first family for 11 days.

11 days.
221 days.

Doesn't seem fair at all.

In 221 days we have learned that he has a great sense of humor, loves to eat, is very easy going (unless you try to take away an inappropriate toy like the remote control or scissors), that he is a fast learner, that he loves to be outside, that when he is at the park he prefers to watch others at play over actually playing himself.

We have learned a lot about this little baby boy who is now more of a toddler than a baby.

We have learned a lot about ourselves too. I learned that some days all it takes is him to smile at me and I realize that life ain't that bad. I learned that Ben has surpassed my expectations as an ababa. I learned that you can actually survive with very little sleep.

And I've learned lots of big, important lessons as well.
That no matter what I do or Ben does or Little Babes does people will always stare at us, sometimes disapprovingly.
I learned that it's more important to find out why that is than to ignore it.
I learned that international adoption isn't all it's cracked up to be no matter what anyone says.

I learned that no matter how many days have gone by it will never stop being unbelievably heartbreaking that Little Babes only got 11 days with his first family who will only learn all the things about him that we know through pieces of paper.

And, most importantly, I learned that I still have an incredible amount to learn.

Friday Links

2011-04-22T11:08:00.001-07:00

One of the most chilling articles I’ve read on the rise of the evangelical adoption movement. This article clearly illustrates the wrong reasons people adopt, the importance of reform in the adoption movement and the economic imbalances between “sending” countries and “receiving” countries. Sad all around.

Not a fan of Kobe Bryant. At.All. I didn’t appreciate his non-apology or the fact that he’s fighting the $100,000 fine that was levied against him for calling a ref a “fucking f@ggot.” Here’s a great explanation of why.

Heartbreaking experience of LosAngelista’s son being called the N-word. She handled it so graciously.

Mindful Monday

2011-04-18T18:26:00.001-07:00

“In violence, we forget who we are."
-Mary McCarthy

Saturday Snapshots

2011-04-16T21:15:00.001-07:00

Not Funny.

2011-04-13T07:45:00.001-07:00

I work in 2 different health care systems, on Mondays I work at one (in a hospital) and then the rest of the week I work at the other (in a clinic). The one I work at on Mondays definitely has it's issues. The department has been dysfunctional since before I started 3 years ago, management isn't really interested in addressing the needs of the staff and I don't expect this to ever change. My work situation isn't ideal. I'd love to have one full-time job, preferably at the clinic that I work at during most of the week. I love my clinic. It's not without it's problems, no job is, but the environment is much more relaxed and both my managers really value the work I do and the staff.

On Monday I was at the hospital. It was the end of my day and I went into the break room (in all honesty because there as a pink box in there and I wanted something sweet). On the table in the break room a piece of paper caught my eye. It had 4 dogs on it (pre-baby I was pretty much obsessed with dogs) so that's initially why I picked it up. It was a photocopy of 4 dogs and underneath was this caption:

"This morning I went to sign my dogs up for welfare. At first the lady said, 'Dogs are not eligible to draw welfare.' So I explained to her that my dogs are mixed in color, unemployed, can't speak English and have no freaking clue who their Daddy's [sic] are. They expect me to feed them, provide them with housing and medical care. So she looked in her policy book to see what it takes to qualify. My dogs get their first checks on Friday."

I blinked.

I had seen this before and it had upset me. But the fact that it was sitting on the break room table in my department office really jarred me. I walked out into the office where 3 others were (one of them a manager for the home health liaisons with whom we share an office) and held it up and asked if they knew who had put it there. They replied with the name of my manager.

MY MANAGER. The person who makes decisions about our department, who has the ability to hire and fire, who does our reviews, who is the face of our department within this hospital.

I was literally shaking when I went to the phone and called her. Her main office is in another part of the hospital. I asked her if she was the one who put the "joke" on the table and she said she had. I asked her if she knew how incredibly offensive it was and she said (dripping with condescension), "I'm sorry." I again asked, "Do you understand why this is racist, classist and offensive?" Honestly at this point I think I was yelling. She replied (again dripping with condescension), "Well, I guess I can see how it could be construed that way."

"Construed that way."

Meaning it's the person who is taking offense who has the problem.
Meaning I am the one who is getting it wrong.

She then told me to just throw it away. I hung up on her.

I marched down to HR. Thankfully they were still there as it was the end of the day. I spoke with a consultant. She said she would need to speak with someone else and she would get back to me.

Our HR department (as with most HR departments) has been notoriously bad at advocating for the staff. I'm of the belief that HR is there to protect the management and that's all. They want you to think they are there for the employees but it's been my experience that they are not. That said, the person I spoke with was not the same HR person that "supported" our department in the past so I was optimistic that things would turn out better.

When I stormed out of the office on my way to HR, I did make a big stink. By that time other people had come into the office. Several people had seen the paper and not one of them had said anything about it. NOT ONE. I understand why a person of color would not feel comfortable or safe speaking out like this. Given the history of abuse in our department it really isn't safe for basically anyone to speak out because they WILL become a target, which I fully expect will happen to me. But I was disappointed that I work with so many social workers and no one else called the manager out on her bullshit. Let me say again, I understand this, but it's disappointing nonetheless.

When I was making my way home I called one of my co-workers who hadn't seen the "joke" and was explaining it to her. This co-worker in particular has had a long history of being targeted in the department. She has spoken out on numerous occasions and it has always backfired on her. She was blown away by what had happened. She was proud of me for speaking out. She was glad that I had said something.

Apparently after I left the office to go to HR, the manager came into the office, red faced, looking for the paper and was told by the admin assistant that I had taken it with me. Then she fired off a 3 sentence email:
"I am sorry that I passed on a cartoon that was insensitive, and offensive. I never intended it to be hurtful to anyone. Please accept my apology."

If you're familiar with apologies after someone has done or said something offensive, you'll know that one by heart. It almost always includes the word "intend" or "intention" and it never illustrates that the perpetrator of the offense actually understands why what they did or said was so egregious.

Needless to say this whole thing has been on my mind for the last few days. I'm incredibly saddened that this happened. I knew that management was awful but I didn't know that it was this bad. I didn't know that racism and degradation was considered okay. I didn't know that other managers would think it was acceptable.

I'm a new social worker. I graduated with my MSW in 2008 and I know how green I am. My beloved licensure supervisor called me naive at one point and I don't dispute that I am. It's only been in the last 10 years that I've really started to examine my privilege. I generally pass as white, most people wouldn't recognize me as a person of color although I identify as Filipina, so I've worked hard at examining what it means to be considered white, to have class privilege. In the last 2 years, since we decided to become a transracial family, I've really looked at myself and my world and continue to try to be the best ally possible. It is a learning process, it will go on until the day I die. It's a constant journey, the hardest one I will ever go on, but one that I cannot turn away from. Ever.

What kind of person would I be if I read that "joke" and said nothing?

How could I look at my family, both my family of origin and the family Ben and I have together, if I didn't say anything?

How could I live with myself?

It makes my last "Mindful Monday" post so much clearer. Saying nothing would make me complicit in the marginalization of my son, my family, my friends and all the people I serve as a social worker.

I don't know what's going to happen now. I know what I'd like to have happen. In a perfect world this manager would either be demoted or transferred out of our department. How could anyone trust her after that? How can she be responsible for a department, the department that provides access to free medication, transportation, housing, advocacy for other resources?

But I have a feeling that nothing is going to happen. I have a feeling that this will get swept under the rug like so many other things in our department have been. I have a scary feeling that I will not get as many shifts as I have been getting, that somehow they will edge me out of the department. If that happens I'm prepared to contact as many people in the organization as possible. I'll send a memo (as suggested by Resistance) with the "joke" as an attachment. I'll send it to every manager that I can find, every higher-up I can think of. I'll send it to every local paper, explaining that this is what a major hospital in Portland thinks is okay, that this is how this hospital views it's patients.

But for right now, I'll wait and see.

Mindful Monday

2011-04-11T14:19:00.000-07:00

"We can't ignore 'the little stuff,' because that's It—that's the stuff, that's the fertile soil in which everything else takes root and from whence everything else springs, that's the way that the fundamental idea of inequality is conveyed over and over and over again.

Asking me to 'let it go' is thus asking me to participate in my own marginalization and/or the marginalization of others, and I can't do that. I won't. I'm all in."
-Shakesville

Little Babes

2011-04-03T20:19:00.001-07:00

...is 14 months old.

...loves blueberries, raspberries and bananas (ba-dadas, he calls them.)

...can sign: water, more, book, ball, hat, bath, milk, nite-nite, eat, toothbrush, fan.

...can say: mama, dada, ababa, book, hot, hat.

...can climb stairs, run, throw, flip pages, stand on his tip toes, tell us he's ready for a bath and bed, can ride his bike and push his cart.

...blows kisses for "good-bye"

...runs to us for hugs.

...likes to snuggle.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-03-30T09:28:00.001-07:00

1 Year Ago or Why I don't use the word "starving" anymore.

2011-03-22T20:01:00.000-07:00

One year ago today I got this photo of Mr. Littles.

One year ago the social worker at my agency called me in the middle of the afternoon and said she had some information for us, did I want her to send me the referral? We got 5 photos and a very lean medical and personal file. Very lean. Holt's not so big on the getting of information.

In this photo Mr. Littles is 11 days old. And very very little. Very. He was, quite literally, starving.

My sweet, chubby Little Babes.

I've spent time around other starving babies. When I was in Haiti I met the most malnourished little slip of a baby. My heart still hurts for her.

But this time, it's different.
This time it is my dearest babe.
And that's why I quit using the word "starving" to describe a state of hunger.
While I am prone to hyperbole and exaggeration, it's an epidemic that deserves reverence.

Mindful Monday

2011-03-07T11:57:00.001-08:00

Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.
— Albert Einstein

Comfort.

2011-03-05T16:41:00.001-08:00

This is one of the first photos we got of Little Babes. It was taken in the Care Center and the one thing almost everyone commented on was how much they liked the hyena shirt. Ben, in particular, loved the hyena shirt. If you know me well you may know that I have a thing about stains. I'm kinda obsessed with NOT having stains or spills or what-have-yous on cloth items. So I wasn't in love with it.

A few months after we were back in Portland I was at my favorite consignment store, Bella Stella. What did I find there? A shirt with the exact same hyena print. The.exact.same.

What are the chances? What are the chances that a baby in a hyena onesie in Ethiopia would end up in Portland, our baby? And that the same onesie would be staring me in the face? Coincidence. Probably. But a strange one regardless.

Anywho.

Why am I thinking of this? This month it will be 6 months that the babe has been in Portland. 6 months is the magical time frame I came up with when I thought of when we would feel like a family, when I could honestly evaluate how "things were going."

We've settled into a routine. Some weeks we get it down better than others. Some weeks we're cranky and tired and things don't work right. Some weeks everything goes perfectly and we are satisfied with ourselves. But every week we fall more in love with Little Babes. Every week we miss our old life less and less. Every week things are put into better perspective.

Tomorrow Mr. Littles is having a procedure done that requires him to be anesthetized. I know everything will be fine. He's in very capable hands.

But.

I worry.

Tonight I needed to have a little comfort. So I looked at this picture of this little baby in his hyena shirt. If he had to be somewhere other than with his first family maybe here was perfect.

Sunday snapshots

2011-02-26T20:02:00.001-08:00

Loves his quadcycle.

Raspberries! Squash!

Sitting in a plastic container. Always fun.

Snow Day!

2011-02-26T19:59:00.001-08:00

He wasn't that impressed.

Actually right after taking these photos he started crying.

Mindful Monday

2011-02-20T17:58:00.001-08:00

“Until lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunter."
African proverb, country unknown

Sunday snapshots

2011-02-20T10:15:00.001-08:00

Birthday babe.

2011-02-11T10:24:00.000-08:00

Mr. Littles turned one on January 31st.

I had originally not wanted to have a party for him because, well, he's one. He won't remember it at all except for photos and presents that he got.

But then I started thinking...it is his first birthday, a major milestone in the many milestones he has yet to have. And my desire for him to have the best damn childhood ever outweighed the stress and cost of throwing him a party.

We threw the party at Matt Dishman Community Center. For a small cost you can rent a room, they set up tables and place settings for 20 kids. Included was the gym where they put out a bunch (and I mean a bunch) of cars and scooters and short basketball hoops and balls. It was awesome. We had 17 children and their parents show up. There would have been no way to fit all of those people in our tiny house without me having some sort of medical emergency. Kids were able to run around like, well, kids. It was perfect.

The best thing about the party was the fact that my sister, Janet, my brother, Robert, and my cousin, Nancy, came up from California to celebrate. I couldn't have done it without them, they were a huge help. Ben was ababa extraordinaire, calm and cool as always (balances out nicely with my OCD and craziness). He made a huge cake: vanilla with chocolate frosting, decorated with a robot.

We were overwhelmed with the generosity of all of our friends who took the time to come celebrate with us. I'd say that it won't happen again next year but I have a feeling that come the beginning of January I'll be looking for a way to top this year's festivities.

Sand and Sea.

2011-02-11T10:12:00.000-08:00

We were lucky enough to be able to take Mr. Littles to Hawaii for a week in January. That was the reason I completely missed a Martin Luther King, Jr. day post, we were just too busy getting ready.

The flight there was 5 hours and Mr. did very well. He had a couple of short naps, played with us, ate some crappy airline food and basically continued to amaze us with how easy-going and good natured he is.

Ben's sister and brother (and his family) live on the North Shore on Oahu and his parents were there for a few weeks from Utah. It was great to be able to introduce the baby to his family, especially his 3 cousins. We went swimming every day, got to soak up some sun, listen to the waves, eat sand (baby only) and basically just spend 7 days in a semi-relaxed state. Ben nailed it when he said that going on a trip with a baby isn't a vacation, it's a visit. While we weren't able to lounge around on the beach for hours in the sun like we've done on past Hawaii vacations, we were able to bring our babe to one of our favorite places in this world. Not many people are that lucky.

He did awesome with the time change while we were in Hawaii. He napped for a few hours in the morning and did a short nap in the afternoons, post-swim. The trip home was also uneventful (save for an entire outfit that had to be tossed after a particularly gruesome blow out diaper). There was a couple on the plane who were lucky enough to not have anyone sit in their 3-seat row so they offered to switch with us so babe could have his own seat. People can be really giving sometimes. The lady who sat behind Mr. said an hour into the flight, "Oh, I didn't even know you had a baby, he's so quiet." There was more of a difficulty in the adjustment home. We landed really, really late, of course our luggage was the last off the plane. Babe was pretty miserable and exhausted. Poor guy only got 6 hours of sleep before being whisked off to day care the next morning. His adjustment back to our time zone was a minor bump but then he was back to a great sleep schedule.

I will continue to say it every day. Ben and I are so unbelievably lucky.

Mindful Monday

2011-02-07T21:23:00.001-08:00

"The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don't have any."
Alice Walker

today.

2011-01-31T20:57:00.001-08:00

Today is TK's first birthday. I am thinking of his first parents today. How one year ago his mother and father were watching him come into this world, not knowing that he would not be staying with them. How, for that moment, they were so very happy.

I look at my sweet boy, with such a huge, glowing personality and I am so very sad that they are not able to witness it. How unbelievably lucky Ben and I are to share our lives with this amazing little person.

Happy birthday, Mr. Littles.

Belated Mindful Monday for the Mindfull-est of Mondays

2011-01-22T11:46:00.000-08:00

I am disappointed in myself for missing a post on the day we in America celebrate the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his legacy. Lots of things were buzzing through my head that day but mostly I was too busy preparing for a super big thing which I'll post about next week.

"In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be." - Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Tuesday Linkage

2011-01-11T14:13:00.000-08:00

There’s lots of interesting stuff being written out there. I, personally, have been consumed by anything related to the shooting in Tucson. It is appalling to me on so many levels: the fact that Loughner was able to buy the semiautomatic Glock that he used to kill 6 and injure 19; the fact that a certain half-assed governor has still not apologized for her crosshair map which, while it certainly did not cause Loughner to take up arms and murder, it contributed to the vitriol nature of political discourse; the fact that 45% of all mental health recipients in Pima County, AZ got cut from services in 2010.

It is just impossible for me to not look at the murders through a political lens. Sorry Jon Stewart.

From Truth Dig:
“The accused gunman, 22-year-old Jared Lee Loughner, appears to be deranged. But this fact does not automatically absolve the politicians, partisan activists and professional loudmouths who spew apocalyptic anti-government rhetoric full of violent imagery. Certainly only someone ‘unbalanced’ would spray a crowd with deadly gunfire. Only someone on the fringe—of society, of sanity—might conceivably hear a slogan such as ‘Don’t retreat, instead—reload!’ and think it not a stirring political metaphor but a direct order.”

Because I firmly believe that allies have the duty to continually examine the ways they are privileged, a post from Declassified Adoptee on privilege.

Adoption language can be tricky for an adoptive mama who tries so hard to be respectful of baby boy's biological family, particularly his enat. Thought provoking post from Adoption Critique.

And from an adoptive mama that I happen to actually know on Staring. I have been there. How do you go about communicating to another "conspicuous family" that you are in the same conspicuous boat? Creepy staring is the only thing I've come up with too.

Mindful Monday

2011-01-10T14:48:00.000-08:00

"We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle-field, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearth-stone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."
-Abraham Lincoln, inaugural address

(one of my all-time favorite quotes)

Melkam Ganna!

2011-01-07T15:10:00.000-08:00

Today is January 7, Ethiopian Christmas.

We are planning on taking TK to Horn of Africa to celebrate with other Ethiopian adoptive families. Look for a longer post of our first Christmas on December 25th and our second Christmas we are celebrating tonight. Hopefully I will be able to spend some time this weekend updating the blog. Time really does get away from you when you are consumed by work and family!

For more information on Ganna please go here.

Merry Christmas, Baby!

2010-12-28T07:37:00.000-08:00

We didn't go overboard on gifts for TK this year since he's so young and we knew he would be just as happy opening an empty box as he would be with any gifts. Although I do have to say that two of his presents he did like a lot, his cart and his squeaky teether. If any of you know Sophie the Giraffe you may be happy to know she has a friend shaped like a mushroom that is also a big hit with the teething set.

He has been pushing his cart all over the place. We just have to work on learning how to turn around. We also recently caught him using it like a skateboard. I was so proud.

He loved opening presents with his ababa! He actually got pretty good at it except for when he tried to eat the paper.

The rest of the photos are from our Christmas evening which was spent at The Harper's with some other friends coming over to celebrate. Poor little guy was such a trooper! He did not get much of an afternoon nap, more like an afternoon "rest" but he was so good the whole night. He stayed up till past 8 but was just peacefully resting on my lap until we headed home. We are so lucky to have such a mellow guy!

You can see in this one how tired he is...

Christmastime is here again...

2010-12-25T21:16:00.001-08:00

And we've been busy. Here are a few photos from the month of December to tide you over...

Bonds. We have no idea what this means but we both really like this shirt.

Chubby skeleton.

Wearing a shirt that was once Ben's shirt.

Tuesday Linkage

2010-12-21T10:36:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to start a link day because, for the most part, other people generally write what I'm feeling and thinking a lot better than I can.

Post from Resistance on speaking out versus not speaking out when racial injustice occurs and how people of color are sometimes forced to suppress acts of violence they've experienced because that’s the only way to survive day-to-day life.

Written by Dale who works for an NGO in Cambodia called Riverkids, “Still, I have some empathy for people who charge in to rescue children. It’s seductively easy. Children cling to you and you can get such an emotional fix off rescuing them. They are far easier to help than angry independent adults. They are ‘clean slates’, and you can project your own ideas onto them. You have all this wealth and power comparatively, and everyone is so nice to you because you’re the kind lady or man who rescues children from horrible people.”

Los Angelista writes, “It is not a joyful feeling to feel like I need to tell my nine year-old that as he gets older the ladies that say he's adorable are going to morph into women who clutch their purses a little tighter when he approaches.”

Abagond on what America and the rules would look like if we were in a Monopoly game.

Mindful Monday

2010-12-20T20:26:00.000-08:00

"It's a historic day. It's something that we've all expected. We know that when you're on the right side of justice and history, you don't ever go backwards."
- Lt. Dan Choi on the repealing of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Thank you to the Democratic and 8 Republican congresspeople for doing what is right.

I've been remiss...

2010-12-19T20:10:00.000-08:00

Oops...guess that's what happens when life catches up to you. Add the holidays and my need to stress myself out by making a ton of crafts and you get one busy mama.

TK has been going to day care for 2 weeks now. It's tough that we only see him for a few hours a night but he seems to be having a good time there and I know the ladies love him. How could you not? He continues to be a mellow, easy-going little guy and Ben and I continue to think we are pretty damn lucky.

A few new things:

-TK has been shaking his head when we shake our heads at him. He thinks this is pretty funny.
-He loves to bounce. He bounces himself by himself if ababa isn't available to bounce him.
-He loves old school R&B and hip hop. Clearly, we were made for each other.
-Walking is just around the corner! He's taken a few tentative steps without his hand on something but is still pretty cautious about letting go. We're hoping he'll be walking when we go to Hawaii next month. Can you imagine him toddling around on the beach?

Thanksgiving was great, nice and mellow but we realized that packing up for 2 adults, 1 baby and 2 dogs can be a bit much for just 3 days away in Lincoln City. He did fine in the car but we're glad we didn't attempt the 10+ hour drive to the Bay area, despite wishing I was with my family for the holiday.

We went to our friend's tree trimming party and he had a great time kicking off the holiday season. I'm determined to make this the best gosh darn Yuletide EVER for his first. I know he won't remember and we will only have photos to remind us but I want to do everything I can to make his childhood a fantastic one. Ben and I decorated the tree while he was napping and when he came out in ababa's arms he looked at the tree all lit up and said, "Ooooo." I think that means he loved it.

Watching ababa cook Thanksgiving dinner:

Thunder thighs!

At the beach!

Petey had too much holiday cheer.

Love my ababa

Sharing with E.

Yay! Holidays!

Posy Quarterman Photography

2010-12-19T20:06:00.000-08:00

My friend Posy gave me the gift of a photo session when I had my baby party/shower back in August. We were lucky enough to catch a break in the rain during the fall. I've been behind in my blogging basically due to well...the kid in these photos and the upcoming holiday season. I love these photos. I love my family.

World AIDS Day

2010-12-01T18:55:00.000-08:00

Today is World AIDS Day 2010, a day the has, unfortunately, existed for over 20 years. There are millions of men, women, children and babies affected by HIV and AIDs, particularly in many African nations.

I would simply ask that you take a moment to educate yourself about these diseases if you know very little about them. Read There Is No Me Without You by Melissa Faye Green, a true story of an amazing woman who started an orphanage out of her home in Ethiopia after her daughter died of AIDS. The parts about the greed and apathy from the pharmaceutical companies will enrage you.

AIDS and HIV are preventable and treatable. Someone you know may be living with either disease or may have been affected by it. It's time to end the stigma and that will only happen through education.

Sunday Snapshots

2010-11-21T13:08:00.001-08:00

Good Hair

2010-11-18T19:43:00.000-08:00

Oh yes. We got the comment.

TK and I were in a store, a big box store I'm ashamed to admit. An African-American sales associate came up to us and said how adorable TK was. Then she said, "He has good hair."

Oh.

Well...TK's hair is downy soft and very curly. He has gorgeous ringlets that I love to put my cheek on. The kid's adorable. I think everything about him is adorable, his hair included. But if his hair had been a different texture, if it had been tighter or coarser, I would still think it was adorable. Because I'm his emama. And that's what we do.

Hair is a BIG DEAL. Ben and I didn't have any experience caring for hair with TK's texture. We didn't want to be unprepared so, many months ago, we took an African-American hair and skin care class put on by Adoption Mosaic at Jayah Rose Salon. It was specifically geared towards a bunch of white folks who were/are adopting transracially.

We didn't know what kind of texture our baby's hair would have when we met him so we wanted to be educated to ensure that our child wouldn't be embarrassed (when he's old enough to be embarrassed) or that we wouldn't be "the couple that didn't care enough about their transracially adopted kid that they f-ed up his hair". We didn't want his hair or skin to be damaged by something we did.

We now have a routine that we use every week that works for us and him. He's a baby, he doesn't notice that his hair looks and smells good, but others have and we certainly do. We will continue to use this routine or tweak it if we need to until his hair changes texture, which I'm told might happen after a haircut or two.

But...there is this whole history wrapped up in African-American hair. It has existed long before we adopted our baby and it is informed by a great many things including racism and self-loathing and fetishism by white folks. There are about a million posts that I could write to address any of those things but I won't because I don't really have first-hand knowledge and there are Black folkswho have lived experiences and have said it much more eloquently than I could ever hope for.

What I have experienced is the fetishism by white folks. Because I've already seen it in the short time we've been home with TK. Some people (white) that I know assume they have some sort of ownership over my kid's hair because they know me. These are people who would never even think of touching my hair so why they think they can touch my baby's hair is unfathomable to me. And it makes me cringe. Wait. Let me rephrase. It makes me want to poke their eyes out, slap their hands, and tell them don't ever touch my kid's head again.

Because most white people have little to no experience with Black folks' hair (even white hairdressers), it becomes this otherworldly, exotic, fascination. And it's always under the guise of appreciation. "Here, let me pet your hair like you're an animal because I believe I have the privilege to do so and I will tell you it's because it's so pretty." OR "Is that your real hair? Can I touch it?"

All I can hope for is that I am able to instill in my kid a comfort with whatever his hair turns out to be. If he wants to loc it or braid it, I want to be able to assist him in that endeavor. I want him to know that I won't let people exoticize him. Until he is old enough to ask people to not touch his head, I have to do that for him. My baby is not someone to be "othered" - he's a baby. And you may think I don't know what you're doing, or I'll give you a pass because we're acquaintances or even friends, but I won't.

Here's a video from Sesame Street that I really love about a little girl who loves her hair. We show it to TK all the time and he gets really excited when it comes on.

Oh Sesame Street, you always get it right.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-11-17T19:37:00.001-08:00

On my mind while watching the Blazers vs. Raptors game...

2010-11-06T19:35:00.000-07:00

1. Will the baby keep sleeping well?
Aside from yesterday, TK has slept 10-11 hours a night, waking up only once for a short time AND napping. I feel like this is quite an accomplishment and I wonder does this mean he is feeling more comfortable? He definitely knows how to express his frustrations and when he is happy or needs something. The sleep thing is awesome and it's one more new normal (as nana says) that we like.

2. Dinner Swap.
I've been thinking about finding another family to do a dinner swap with. I read about it on my favorite transracial adoption blog (johnson-mccormick.com). Basically when you are making a complete meal (Ben and I do most of our cooking on Sunday) you make double the amount, the other family does the same and then you swap. You've really only cooked once for 2 meals. We're just busier these days. Any interested parties willing to deal with my crazy food preferences?

3. Nissan Leaf
We're turning into that family that is in a certain demographic that shops at CostCo, does dinner swaps, stays in on the weekends and drives dorky cars like the Nissan Leaf. Oh man.

4. It would be embarrassing to lose to the Raptors.

Weekend with the nana and the pop pop...

2010-11-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

Last weekend Ben's parents (nana and pop pop) and his younger brother, Luke, and Luke's wife, Kylie, came to Portland to meet TK. He was very excited!

Mr. Smiles was in love with nana. He even let pop pop and Luke hold him a little.

These photos are just one day when he was in overalls and looking ridiculously adorable.

Almost Wordless Wednesday

2010-11-03T18:05:00.001-07:00

Would you get a load of Mr. Stands-and-Claps!

So...what's his story?

2010-10-27T11:08:00.000-07:00

So far we haven't been asked too many questions about TK's story. You know, the big story. The Why-was-he-put-up-for-adoption-story. And as far as stories that are based in heartache and sadness go, his is pretty straightforward.

But all adoption stories are rooted in sadness. Every time we hear "He is such a lucky boy!" it makes us cringe. If you know anything about adoption you would know TK is not lucky. Ben and I are the lucky and privileged ones.

We are lucky that we were chosen completely at randomto parent this boy, this son.

We are privileged to be able to go through the adoption process, which, as a big business, prices families out of adoption.

TK is many things. But lucky isn't one of them.

And the one thing he has, that will always be his and no one else's, is his story, the words from his father. It just isn't ours to tell.

So friends and family who read this blog ( if you read this blog ), please don't get your feelings hurt when we don't tell you or maybe even say it's none of your beez-wax. Nothing personal ( unless you get pushy ).

Here's a link to The blog of an adoptive mother who says it much more eloquently than me.

My fascinating life: The One With All The Privacy

Oh baby.

2010-10-26T20:34:00.000-07:00

Last night/this morning was my turn to get up with the baby. Usually I am very lucky and he gives his emama a little extra dozing time.

Oh little manfriend.

Last night/this morning he woke up at 9pm, 1:15am, 3:30am, and was up for good at 5:30am. Honestly I am so grateful for Ben. Single parents, you are amazing and I am very humbled.

Once Ben got up, I went to bed. Not only did Ben get the kid to sleep at 8:30am, but he slept for 3 hours. Unheardof! He never has ever napped that long before.

We had a good, happy day hanging out at the house. Ben and TK took Carl out for a walk ( Carl has been acting up a little. I think he's wondering when the interloper is leaving.)

TK got all dudded up in his Trailblazers outfit and ababa made some good Game 1 food!

Oh baby, thanks for a great day.

Please go easy on us tonight.

Mindful Monday

2010-10-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

"Caminante, no hay puentes, se hace puentes al andar.
(Voyager, there are no bridges, one builds them as one walks.) "
— Gloria E. Anzaldúa

The goods...

2010-10-24T15:20:00.000-07:00

Baby boy has been home a full month. That seems really fast. As the time draws nearer for Ben and I to return to work and TK to go to day care I'm starting to get a little jittery. By no means do I want to be a stay at home mom, that just isn't for me. But I also don't want to miss all the stuff I'm going to miss when we're apart. And I don't want Ben to miss it either. Can't I have my job and my time with my baby too? Sheesh.

He seems to be adjusting well and I think the attachment is right on track. He is IN LOVE with Ben, has cried when a couple of our male friends have come over to the house. I think because he is use to having so many ladies raise him that I'm just another set of boobs. Hopefully that will change soon.

Since he's been home he has:
learned to clap
learned to fake cough
has stood, unaided, for a few seconds
shown us that he has a huge appetite and will eat anything we put in front of him (still not fond of avocados)

We took TK on his first trip to the beach. He loved the beach, loved playing with the sand. He did not love the car ride home, which is only about an hour and 1/2. He was miserable the whole time, which means we were miserable the whole time. I was hoping to drive to the Bay area to spend Thanksgiving with my family and introduce them to the boy. Looks like that trip is on hold.

Love Sesame Street...

2010-10-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

They get it right on so many things from singing about interracial families to having an HIV+ character. I just love that show and I hope that, someday, TK will too.

Here's a link to my new favorite song, "I Love My Hair!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1A-BHkoWV0g&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Mindful Monday

2010-10-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

"Violence is black children going to school for 12 years and receiving 6 years' worth of education."
-Julian Bond

Tagged!

2010-10-15T19:49:00.000-07:00

I was tagged by a fellow Ethiopian adoptive parent, Kerry (semiferalmama.wordpress.com), who Ben and I met during our Parents In Process class at Holt. Many of you can probably guess that I love to talk about myself. So while some of you may dread getting one of these chain-type things I really like them. Narcissist, that's me.

1. What is your biggest pet peeve?
Just one? Oh man...
People who tip less than 20% or are basically awful to wait on. I was a server/bartender for way too long to tolerate that nonsense. Want to get on my bad side? Be a dick to your server. And it's always, ALWAYS, 20% minimum.

2. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?
South Point, Hawaii.
Because it's beautiful, I feel close to nature when I'm there and Hawaii is a very diverse state which would be a fantastic place to raise my kid.
Although I do really love living in Portland too.

3. Have you ever been searched by the cops?
Nope. Been pulled over several times but never searched. I'm a really bad driver.

4. What is the one thing on your mind right now?
How in the hell do I get my son to nap during the day.
I also have much grander worries related to being a mother but this one is current.

5. Favorite song right now?
Shutterbug by Big Boi. I love it so much, it always lifts my mood.

6. What talent do you wish you had?
Too too many.
But I'll just go with I wish I spoke several languages besides English.

7. Favorite drink?
Sweet tea from Chik-Fil-A. There are no Chik-Fil-As in Oregon so I try to hit one when I'm out of town.
I am a big tea snob and also enjoy hot teas greatly. My current favorite is a Jade Earl Grey which is a green tea with bergamot.
I'm allergic to alcohol so if that's the answer you were looking for sorry to disappoint.

8. In one word, how would you describe yourself?
Abrasive.
I'm pretty rough around the edges, sometimes things come out wrong or not how I meant them at all. This can lead to a lot of hurt feelings. If you know my mother you know the apple did not fall far from the tree in this respect.

I'm not going to tag anyone because I don't think I know anyone who would actually do this that blogs.

Mindful Monday

2010-10-11T17:24:00.000-07:00

In honor of National Coming Out Day:

"Everybody's scared, but if you don't let your fears stop you, that's bravery!"
— Leslie Feinberg from Stone Butch Blues

Mom Club

2010-10-10T19:25:00.000-07:00

TK does not like to take afternoon naps.

He goes down fine in the morning, usually a couple of hours after waking up. But in the afternoon, unless he is in the car (pointless burning of fossil fuels) or in the stroller (we need a rain cover!), he will not fall asleep. This means that around noonish he starts to turn into a very unhappy baby. Our usually mild-mannered, good-natured babe will whine and cry and will not fall asleep.

Today Ben took Carl to the dog wash which was long over due. That dog stunk. While he was gone TK stared whining and crying. For 20 minutes. That might not seem long to you but, oh, the frustration! I changed his diaper. I fed him. Still the boy was miserable. So I decided to go for a stroll. Luckily there was a break in the rain at just the right time. Since Petey was left behind I took her with us and attached her leash to the stroller.

For those of you who do not know Petey, she is a handful. She is now 13 years old but she's little so age has not slowed her one bit. She is nippy and jumpy and huffs and puffs when she's on the leash. She charges other dogs, darts in and out in front of you. She is basically a nightmare dog that we have grown to love.

We were on the sidewalk when Petey did her "business". Now remember she was attached to the stroller. I bent over to pick up her business, taking my hand OFF the stroller. You see where this is going? I looked up and Petey was happily pulling the stroller down the sidewalk. She wasn't running necessarily but she's little and fast and I had to trot to catch up to them all the while picturing them careening into traffic. I grabbed the stroller handle and was mortified because 2 women were jogging towards us. They laughed and said, "Don't worry, we would have caught him. We have kids too!"

Guess I'm officially in the Mom Club. Never thought I'd get here.

One Day...

2010-10-08T20:10:00.000-07:00

You will not want to snuggle with me and Ababa on the couch and let us tickle you till you belly laugh so loudly you make us belly laugh. You will not let us sing to you while we tickle you, wrapped in your blanket, wearing nothing but a diaper. You will not let us kiss your smooth shoulders at all.

One day.

But today you do.

The Seat Not Taken...

2010-10-07T16:27:00.000-07:00

From my favorite transracial parenting blog, Never A Dull Moment, came a posting of a New York Times piece that really struck home. Right now everyone who comes into contact with TK mentions how adorable he is, how cute his smile is. But he will grow up. He will grow up to be a black man, a black man who (statistics say) will have experiences just like Wideman's. Hopefully, because Ben and I cannot change the world, we will be able to give him the tools to deal with these experiences.
---------------------------------------------------------------

THE NEW YORK TIMES
October 6, 2010
The Seat Not Taken

By JOHN EDGAR WIDEMAN

AT least twice a week I ride Amtrak’s high-speed Acela train from my home in New York City to my teaching job in Providence, R.I. The route passes through a region of the country populated by, statistics tell us, a significant segment of its most educated, affluent, sophisticated and enlightened citizens.
Over the last four years, excluding summers, I have conducted a casual sociological experiment in which I am both participant and observer. It’s a survey I began not because I had some specific point to prove by gathering data to support it, but because I couldn’t avoid becoming aware of an obvious, disquieting truth.
Almost invariably, after I have hustled aboard early and occupied one half of a vacant double seat in the usually crowded quiet car, the empty place next to me will remain empty for the entire trip.
I’m a man of color, one of the few on the train and often the only one in the quiet car, and I’ve concluded that color explains a lot about my experience. Unless the car is nearly full, color will determine, even if it doesn’t exactly clarify, why 9 times out of 10 people will shun a free seat if it means sitting beside me.
Giving them and myself the benefit of the doubt, I can rule out excessive body odor or bad breath; a hateful, intimidating scowl; hip-hop clothing; or a hideous deformity as possible objections to my person. Considering also the cost of an Acela ticket, the fact that I display no visible indications of religious preference and, finally, the numerous external signs of middle-class membership I share with the majority of the passengers, color appears to be a sufficient reason for the behavior I have recorded.
Of course, I’m not registering a complaint about the privilege, conferred upon me by color, to enjoy the luxury of an extra seat to myself. I relish the opportunity to spread out, savor the privacy and quiet and work or gaze at the scenic New England woods and coast. It’s a particularly appealing perk if I compare the train to air travel or any other mode of transportation, besides walking or bicycling, for negotiating the mercilessly congested Northeast Corridor. Still, in the year 2010, with an African-descended, brown president in the White House and a nation confidently asserting its passage into a postracial era, it strikes me as odd to ride beside a vacant seat, just about every time I embark on a three-hour journey each way, from home to work and back.
I admit I look forward to the moment when other passengers, searching for a good seat, or any seat at all on the busiest days, stop anxiously prowling the quiet-car aisle, the moment when they have all settled elsewhere, including the ones who willfully blinded themselves to the open seat beside me or were
unconvinced of its availability when they passed by. I savor that precise moment when the train sighs and begins to glide away from Penn or Providence Station, and I’m able to say to myself, with relative assurance, that the vacant place beside me is free, free at last, or at least free until the next station. I can relax, prop open my briefcase or rest papers, snacks or my arm in the unoccupied seat.
But the very pleasing moment of anticipation casts a shadow, because I can’t accept the bounty of an extra seat without remembering why it’s empty, without wondering if its emptiness isn’t something quite sad. And quite dangerous, also, if left unexamined. Posters in the train, the station, the subway warn: if you see something, say something.
John Edgar Wideman is a professor of Africana studies and literary arts at Brown and the author, most recently, of “Briefs.”

Since we've been home...

2010-10-05T12:04:00.000-07:00

Since we've been home we have been learning a lot about our little man friend.

He loves to bounce and smash stuff.

He loves to pull Ababa's beard and the plugs in his ears (which doesn't hurt Ben by the way).

He likes to make goofy poses.

He loves to eat anything we give him (currently his favorites are apples, pears, bananas, sweet potatoes).

He laughs a lot.

He cries when he is not doing something that he wants to do, which is mostly pull himself up to standing and walk along the sofas in the living room. Constant monitoring with this one.

He tries to be friends with Carl and Petey but since he likes to pull hair they are not his biggest fans.

He loves to sit outside in our laps or in the sunshine.

He can stare you down like you wouldn't believe.

He likes to go to birthday parties.

He likes to say "ba-ba" which we are hoping to turn into "Ababa".

He does not like to nap. At all. Ever.

He loves to be fashionable (okay, that's more my love than his, but isn't he adorable?).

He can sleep for up to 11 hours in the night time.

He does not like to have his diaper changed.

He is beginning to love us as much as we love him.

Mindful Monday

2010-10-04T21:37:00.000-07:00

"It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons."
~Johann Schiller

Ethiopia, Day Six

2010-09-26T00:41:00.000-07:00

Today was a big day.

We woke up with a smiley, happy baby between us. Had another night of fitful sleep because I'm just not use to having a tiny being in bed with Ben and me. It's an adjustment like so many other things will be once we are back in Portland. 13 years is a long time to just be me and Ben. Hope our little baby likes our life as much as we do.

Today is the farewell ceremony. It is the day that the adoptive families go to their respective Care Centers and the children are dressed in their traditional Ethiopian outfits, reserved for special occasions, and the children, nannies and staff at the Care Centers get to say good-bye to them. There is cake and singing and it is a BIG DEAL.

We got to the Care Center and there were many little chairs set up. The other, older children (not older than 2 1/2) in our Care Center get to come down and watch the ceremony. There is a cake and popcorn (traditionally served during a coffee ceremony) set up on a little table in the front of the play area. TK is asleep when the nanny takes him from us to change him into his outfit. Sister Martha says a few words. While they are sad that the children are leaving Ethiopia, their home, they are happy about this mission that God has sent us to fulfill. Ben and I are not religious but it is a very touching talk that she gives and we do take seriously this "mission" on which we are about to embark.

The little children are brought into the room and they sit down on the plastic chairs. It hits me that these children are waiting. Waiting for a match with adoptive parents, waiting to be taken far away from their homeland and I am so saddened about all of it. Saddened that all of these children most likely have at least one birth parent who so greatly misses them and who was devastated at the loss of their most sweetest, dearest gift. Saddened that it will be a very long time, if ever, till they are reunited with a child that will probably no longer speak their language or know them at all. Like I said, adoption is not for the weak of heart. In a perfect world there would be reproductive rights for everyone, so that people may have the education and ability to choose when and if to have children. In a perfect world there would be systems in place to support families in their efforts to stay together, no matter how remote the home, no matter how expensive the cost. In a perfect world, adoption would have been impossible for Ben and me. In a perfect world.

But...here we are.

The nannies and staff sing us a farewell song in Amharic. There is a group prayer led by one of the adoptive fathers. Then each family and their child goes up and slices the cake. Once that and group photos are over, the cake (so amazing by the way) and soda are passed out to the families and all the children and staff. Incidentally, each child was given a cup of orange soda called Mirinda. I whispered in TK's ear not to get use to it.

There is a nanny that was especially enamored with TK. Her name is Sidamo and when she comes to pass us our cake she has tears in her eyes and has to go to another room. I am so glad that TK was loved by her.

The strange thing about the farewell ceremony is that afterwards we were scheduled to go shopping as a group. We are not allowed to take our children out into the city with us as a sign of respect to Ethiopians who might, understandably, get upset that groups of their children are being removed by foreigners. So if we wanted to go shopping we left our children in the care of the nannies. It seemed a little confusing and I can see how it would be upsetting for the older children to have a farewell ceremony only to then be back in the care center. Mixed message indeed.

We were taken to a little shop first, then to a touristy-type strip of stores. At the strip of stores we were surrounded by people trying to sell us a wide variety of things: banana gum (delicious!), maps (we bought one of Ethiopia), and a boy who kept trying to get me to let him shine my shoes (passed on that). We did end up buying a few things from the stores on the strip. I was a little disappointed that some of my travel group attempted to barter with the shop workers. Seriously? Things are already ridiculously cheap plus the exchange rate US dollars to Birr is completely skewed in our favor and you're going to try to barter? The arrogance of Americans never ceases to amaze and disgust.

We were taken next to a coffee shop. Smelled heavenly, I may not like the taste but, man, that smell. Ben was hoping to buy unroasted beans but they weren't available for purchase. Because we live in Portland, where I'm told the coffee is phenomenal (and I don't mean Starbucks because, gross) we have Ethiopian coffee readily available at every corner coffee shop. Ben decided to pass on buying any bags that we would have to lug home. At the coffee shop we were set upon by many women holding babies asking for money. Ben and I gave to all of them because it didn't seem fair to just give to one. In my mind any of those babes could have been TK, any of those hungry mouths could have been his that needed filling. I am not a religious person by any stretch of that word but one phrase that always comes to my mind whenever I think of charity or giving to those who were not as lucky as I was to be born into my circumstances is "There but for the grace of god go I." I also always think of this phrase when some religious right-winged jerk politician starts spouting off about cutting social services or complaining about foreign aid to places like Haiti. But that's a different post for another time.

Our next stop, and the one I was most looking forward to, was to the leper hospital. I think that's a generic descriptor for the complex we were taken to. It actually is a hospital, research facility and residential area for many people. It's full title is ALERT: All Africa Leprosy, Tuberculosis and Rehabilitation Training Centre. The craft area was a small room where women were spinning yarn and crocheting and doing lace work and embroidery. I am a HUGE fan of fabric arts and know the time and effort it takes to produce something so beautiful. I couldn't wait to see the finished products which were fabulous. I bought an embroidered tablecloth and napkin set and a crocheted green shawl. While we were waiting for others to finish their shopping we hung out by the van where 5 children came up to us and asked for candy or chocolate. I had a bar of chocolate that I broke up into pieces and handed out (wonder if they were disappointed that it was bittersweet). There was one little girl who was hilarious. She might have been 4 or 5. She had a piece of an enset (false banana) leaf that she was using to whip the older kids with and chase after them. She was trying to be so tough and they just laughed at her. Adorable. (A note about the crafts at the hospital: some other adoptive parents have complained that the prices were too expensive at the hospital and they were angry to have been taken there first in the past instead of the way we were taken last. If you've read my other blog posts you know that I think those parents are jerks who need to shut up already and stop making the rest of us look like a-holes. We have money or else we wouldn't be on the receiving end of adoption. The one good thing we can do is stimulate the Ethiopian economy.)

When we got back to the care center TK was all smiles for us and we went back to the hotel to spend our last night there. Tomorrow we would be on our long journey to Portland.

Ethiopia, Day Five

2010-09-25T09:14:00.000-07:00

Today was the day that we were really here for. The visa appointment. This is the day that international adoptive parents wait for after their court day. This is the day that the US Embassy decides that they will grant your child a visa to enter the country. Ben and I got dressed up in the nicest clothes we brought so that we could pile into a van and head to the Embassy.

We got to the Embassy and went through the necessary check points and security. Once we were in the waiting room that is exactly what we did, wait. There were other families from Christian World Adoption also waiting for their visas as well. If you don't know, this agency is one of the adoption agencies that was exposed for nefarious activities in Ethiopia, including lying, manipulation and fraud. You can see the CBS story here. Additionally, there were many Ethiopians waiting for visas too. I was fairly uncomfortable waiting in the room because I know that many Ethiopians do not agree with so many of their children being taken to live abroad. As I've said before, I understand this. Holt understands this too because other than the visa appointment we are not allowed to take our children out into the city. If we want to go to the supermarket or any place else after we have taken custody we have to leave the children at the Care Center. I guess I was the only one who felt uncomfortable because when I brought this up later, no one seemed to have noticed the stares were were getting. One Ethiopian woman did come up to Ben and me and praise us for what we were doing, telling TK that he was blessed. I think she got it wrong though because Ben and I are definitely getting the best end of this process.

Ben and I got called after waiting for a couple of hours. It was a very anticlimactic process. We were at the window for 5 minutes, got asked a few questions by the Embassy worker and then given the original documents from the court and TK's birth certificate. One thing about this process that really upsets me is that once we have officially adopted TK in the United States, he loses his Ethiopian citizenship, making him a US citizen only. Also, Kedir is erased from his birth certificate as if he was never his father which is awful, simply awful. Let me say right now that I HATE this about international adoption. It is completely unfair to change his life this way. TK is an ETHIOPIAN. Yes, he is being raised in the US by US citizens but he is Ethiopian by birth, and he is his father's child. ALWAYS. Ben and I love him already, we do. But we honor his heritage, we treasure his culture and we cannot stand that the government does this to these children.

We left the Embassy by a little after noon. We spent the rest of the day with TK, in the hotel room and in the hotel dining area. Again, it made us long for home where we could leave and see the city with him if we wanted to or have something to do while he was sleeping.

Ethiopia, Day Four

2010-09-25T08:57:00.000-07:00

We left Awassa after a very hearty breakfast. Did I already mention the food in Ethiopia does not disappoint? I feel sorry for those parents too scared to try anything because they are missing out. Our trip back to Addis Ababa was uneventful. I think we were all still pretty emotional from the birth family meeting. I know Ben and I were getting anxious about taking custody of TK that night. The drive back only took a few hours and once we got to the hotel we rested a bit and walked to the supermarket to buy TK's formula and cereal.

We took custody of the kids at 5:00. It was very anticlimactic, just went into their rooms and got them. TK seemed to recognize us despite not seeing us the day before. He's such a happy baby though, all smiles pretty much all the time. We would have liked to have been able to ask the nannies questions about the kids but when we asked Sister Martha she seemed surprised we had questions. We met with the pediatrician for 5 minutes and were promised his vaccination records and told that he is a very easy baby which we kind of already surmised.

Once we got to the hotel, which is right next to the Care Center we just played for a while. TK fell asleep during dinner. I think he would do better with 2 shorter naps than the one 3 hour nap he's been getting. We got his schedule from the main Holt office on our first day here, it had a list of his activities as well as the foods he is eating. I think they print out a generic one for all the families because I have a hard time believing that a 7 month old is eating fried chicken and drinking tea. Although I guess you can puree anything if you have the right equipment. We are pretty anxious to get him home and on a different schedule and make his food for him. If you know anything about Ben you know he loves to cook. If you've been lucky enough to have him cook for you, you know he is phenomenal. I can't wait to see him make food for his son!

I cannot tell you how much I love his smile:

One thing that we didn't realize about taking custody is that we're taking custody in a hotel. I know, I know, you would think we would have realized that but when you're in a hotel and your baby falls asleep at 7:00pm and you only have 2 channels on the TV in a language that you don't understand, you really long for the comforts of home.

It was a difficult night for me. TK slept between us and he is a bed hog! He moves a lot during the night and was sideways at one point. I kept waking up because I was worried that a) I wouldn't hear him if he woke up (pretty silly since he was RIGHT next to me) and b) that he wasn't breathing. Yes, I KNOW. Totally irrational. But I bet there is more than one parent who has done this. Also, I'm prone to worrying and grandiose worries at that. Add that to being a new mother and you have a person who could probably fit some sort of diagnosis in the DSM-IV.

Ethiopia, Day Three

2010-09-24T22:20:00.000-07:00

Today was the day our travel group headed to Durame, a city south of Addis Ababa, to meet birth families. We were all understandably nervous and anxious about the trip. It was going to take us 5-6 hours to get there and Ben and I were very much looking forward to seeing the Ethiopian countryside.

The drive didn't disappoint. Ethiopia is gorgeous! Throughout the drive it reminded us of both Oregon and New Mexico at various times. Parts of the country are lush and green while other parts were flat, dry and filled with cacti. So diverse. We got stopped along the way by a family of baboons who had been crossing the road in front of one of the other vans. They were gorgeous!

Although most Ethiopians are Orthodox Christians, we were told that many Muslims live in the southern part of the country. During our drive we saw many mosques, humble but beautifully built. Mesfin, Holt's photographer, was in our van during the drive and told us that in Ethiopia Christians and Muslims live side by side and get along. A concept some people in the United States would do well to learn.

Photo of a mosque, you can just make out the top:

We got to stop in Shisendo and visit the site of the clinic that is being expanded by Holt. There is currently a small clinic there as well as a family preservation team. Holt is expanding the clinic into a much larger hospital to serve the people of Shisendo and the outlying area. This is a wonderful thing that our agency is doing. Although we have had our problems with Holt and have not been happy with them for a variety of reasons (mostly communication) Ben and I are very happy that they undertake other projects, particularly their family preservation project. They have successfully served 300 families so far, which means that there are 300 less children that are available for adoption - the best thing ever! I hope that they can serve more families and reduce the number of orphans available in Ethiopia.

Part of the clinic that is already built:

We headed to Durame. We had lunch in the hotel that families had been staying at for previous trips. The food was delicious but we were really all a little too nervous and anxious for our upcoming meetings. After lunch we headed to the Care Center to meet with the birth families.

We were the last of three groups to be called by the translator/social worker into the room to meet TK's father. Needless to say the waiting was excruciating. As soon as the first family came back to the waiting area with the birth grandmother I started to get teary-eyed.

Adoption is not for the weak of heart. It's love borne out of heartbreak, a completely selfish act that has encouraged the commodifying of children of color. Ben and I recognize the privilege we have which allows us to be adoptive parents and excludes other families. It disgusts us yet we have knowingly taken part in it because we truly believe that this is the only way for us to have built our family. We are not and will never be interested in having biological children for reasons that we feel very strongly about. Although we have taken part in this process I can say I understand why adult adoptees crusade for adoption reform, open adoptions and sometimes even the end to adoption at all. I know why people will be very angry with Ben and me for our decision to take part in this industry, and it IS an industry make no mistake. Knowing what I know now after going through this process, I would never do it again. I can honestly say that if Ben and I decide to add a second child to our family it would most likely be through a foster care adoption.

Meeting Kedir, TK's father, was an amazing experience and Ben and I will treasure it always. We won't share any of our time with him as that conversation is for our son only. I will say Kedir loved him, continues to love him and our greatest accomplishment will be to honor him and keep our promise to care for and love his son with all our hearts.

After the meeting, we got to tour the Care Center in Durame and meet the nannies who first took care of TK when he came to them. I showed them photos on my phone that I had of him from the day before and all of them kissed the phone, one nanny started to cry, they were all so very happy to see how he had grown and to meet Ben and me. It was a testimony to how well these children are loved and cared for and how much the nannies, despite missing them and wishing circumstances were different, want them to have loving homes. Again, Ben and I hope that we can live up to their hope and expectations to love TK as much as they have loved him.

We traveled about a half an hour to Awassa (also Hawassa, because of the alphabetic translation often means words are spelled multiple ways). Awassa is on Lake Awassa, famous for their hippos which you can travel by boat to see. We took a walk to the lake during sunset and many people were out for the view. After our walk, we went back to the hotel for dinner. It had been a long and emotionally exhausting day for us, we fell asleep fairly early.

A word about the accommodations: Apparently some of the adoptive parents complained about the hotel in Durame which is where past travel groups have stayed the night. They have said it didn't have running water or electricity. To those parents I say, "GET OVER YOURSELVES!" Most of the rest of the world lives like this and get along just fine. This is how your child would have probably lived for the entirety of their lives and you can't bring yourselves to spend one night like that? What's wrong with you? Yes, the hotel in Awassa was nice, very nice actually, but Awassa gets many tourists because of it's lake with hippos. Durame probably gets many less visitors and because of your whining Holt has removed a great source of income away from the town. Get over your privilege. Now. It will not serve your relationship with your child in the long run and you look like a complete ass.

Mental images to keep:
Baboons!
Gibons!
Kedir's face which is just like his son's
Kedir so happy to see photos of his growing boy - I have never and will never see such joy again
The nanny crying at the Care Center where TK was first brought upon seeing his recent photos

Ethiopia, Day Two

2010-09-24T22:15:00.000-07:00

Ben and I decided to go exploring on our own before breakfast. There is a supermarket up the road from the hotel and I was really craving bananas and fruit in general. Once we were outside the hotel gates we met Danny, a boy who lives across the road in a yellow and grey tin shed. We had heard of Danny from other adoptive parents, that he is very charming, which he was, but also asks all the parents for money. Danny is a very sweet boy, 12 years old, who speaks excellent English and "escorted" us to the market. Our original destination was closed so we ended up at a mom and pop type store. Danny carried our bag for us and attempted to teach us Amharic words and phrases. He spoke of Howard University and Washington DC. He asked us what music we liked and in between telling us he liked Akon and Shakira he asked if we knew John Denver. Then Danny busted out with a verse of "Take Me Home, Country Roads" which was amazing. Ben and I are of the "Hate the game, don't hate the player" mentality when it comes to giving money to people. If Danny is scamming us we assume it's because he is helping to support his family. He saw an opportunity in the families that come to the hotel across from his home and was very smart to take it, who are we to judge?

After breakfast we were off to a museum. Originally we had planned on going to the National Museum. But it seems that Lucy is actually in the United States. Ironic. We ended up going to the Ethnographic Museum at was once the palace of Haile Selassie. It had great information on Ethiopia, particularly on the people living in southern Ethiopia which is where TK is from.

We did get to eat at Lucy's Cafe for lunch and a traditional coffee ceremony. For the uninformed, Ethiopia is the birthplace of coffee and Ethiopians take it very seriously. (Side note: the food has been excellent here! Ben and I love to eat and Ethiopia does not disappoint.)

After lunch we got to spend a few hours with TK at the care center. This boy has been a dream come true for the few hours we've gotten to spend with him. He's content to sit in our laps and check out the action around him. He loves to chew and bang things. He gurgles and babbles and is just a very happy boy. The nannies were a little late with our children's dinner and TK ended up falling asleep in my arms. Yes, my heart melted. The only time we've heard him cry was when he was tired but it was only a few seconds and he was back to his agreeable self. Did I mention we're in love with this kid?

Mental photos to keep:
Wedding procession on the street near the National Museum (cars covered in flowers)
Graduates of University of Addis Ababa taking their photos in front of the Ethnographic Museum